#just hours of coughing as loud as possible without muffling it at all

[txicgf]

i miss when i got a full uninterrupted sleep daily

[snezandsickheadcanons]

a university professor standing at their podium, ready to give out an important exam. they are usually so composed, but something seems a little off about them today, they seem a little disheveled and unfocused. a little tired, maybe, from staying up late to grade assignments? they are reading out the last of the exam instructions when they have to stop, eyes fluttering for a moment before turning away to sneeze. several students bless them, which they accept with a polite smile.

the professor goes to sit at their desk as the test begins. silence overtakes the room. the students begin their diligent task, keeping themselves in the upmost concentration.

but every minute or so there's the noise of a cough or sniffle. it quickly starts to become grating, distracting them from answering the difficult questions. still, it's a common occurrence, and many of the students used to their classmates interrupting them in such a way. but it's annoying nonetheless, so several of them turn to try and give a silent glare to the one causing the disruption.

however, they realize the noises aren't coming from any of their classmates at all. in the front of the room, their professor is sitting with a tissue/handkerchief pressed to their nose, sniffling and wiping as quietly as they can. blowing their nose would be far too loud, so they are left unable to find relief and are thus trapped with their tissue/handkerchief as their only refuge.

what's more, every so often their eyes flutter and they snap forward, stifling a sneeze in an attempt not to make another sound. but each time they wince, the irritation surely only building as they can't properly release.

the exam continues, and the coughs, sniffles, and stifles only worsen in frequency and volume. eventually, they are no longer able to do the latter silently, with each stifle ending with a squeak. they hitch and hitch clearly in the depths of an untimely cold or allergy attack.

eventually, the professor seems to realize they can't control themself from being a distraction to their students, so they calmly stand up and exit the lecture hall.

though they shut the door behind them, as they are just right outside the sound of them letting lose a full unstifled sneezing fit still reaches the students. though muffled, they can still hear their professor giving a congested groan and blowing their nose as they finish sneezing (for the moment).

normally, the professor seems so calm and mature, never showing a hint of displeasure or frustration. but now they seem truly and utterly miserable, while still trying to make sure their students remain in the best learning environment possible.

they clear their throat and return to the room, closing the door without a sound, and return to their desk. however, there is still a half hour left of the exam time, and it looks like the tickle in their nose hasn't let up, so it probably won't be long until they have to excuse themself again

[virgo-dream]

dreamling / explicit / victorian soldiers au / 5 + 1 / completed

Five times Sergeant Robert Gadling woke up to Captain Morpheus Apeiron. One time Morpheus woke up to Hob. A very unlucky battalion finds itself in the command of one Captain Morpheus Apeiron. He doesn't seem particularly worried with their survival, but mostly with ending the war as soon as possible. Sergeant Robert Gadling seems to be the only thing keeping all these young and inexperienced soldiers alive. After one particularly heated fight between them, Hob ends up discovering there is much more to his Captain than meets the eye, but is he seeing Morpheus as he truly is, or through the prism of his own desire? read part one / part two / part three (4.9k+ words) here or on AO3 this fic is part of the 1st dreamling nation fic exchange. find other entries here.

a huge thank you to @littledreamling and @kydrogendragon for the incredible beta work on this chapter. this would not have been coherent without their help.

vi. 

It feels sharp, at first. Like a knife wound, but somehow worse. As it tears through the flesh of his left arm, a burning sensation hits his nerves, travelling from the wound to his whole body, sending pricking needles down his spine. He feels his back hit the ground, and the sensation of having the air punched out of his lungs immediately after. The ground is moist, freshly rained on. There's mud on his jacket.  The world around him seems to slow down; sounds are muffled, and the sunlight becomes overbearing to his eyes, now stinging as much as the…

What is it again? 

–––––

"Duck!"

–––––

"Dearest. Darling. Dove. Dream."

–––––

He can hear footsteps around him. Someone's foot lands right next to his ear, and something cold and sticky lands on his cheek. He doesn’t have it in him to wipe it away, but he still has enough brain power left to realise it’s mud sprinkled on his face. It feels cold, impossibly cold, while his abdomen burns hotter than the sun. His eyes try to focus on his surroundings; he can see pant legs covered in blood and mud, shuffling around him like cards in a deck, every move the ending of a game, the beginning of a new one. It’s hard to keep up with the mess of legs and arms and grunting sounds around him. The sky's the only fixed point in the mess surrounding him; heavy grey clouds crowd the space visible to him. 

Someone covers the sky. He blinks, confused. Someone blinks back.

They scream. 

–––––

"...when this is over. Do you have somewhere to go back to?"

Hob looked down at Morpheus, a puzzled look on his usually cheerful face. Morpheus had been resting with his head on Hob's chest for a while now. He couldn't tell just how long at that point. Could have been a few minutes, maybe a couple of hours. They'd woken up before dawn, as they'd now made a habit of, just so they could spend the early hours of the morning holding each other, pretending they were anywhere but in the middle of a war. 

"What do you mean?"

"Family… a wife? Children?"

"Family, yes. No wife. No children either."

Morpheus stretched his neck to press a kiss under Hob's jaw, a hand reaching to the back of his lover's head to direct his face to meet Morpheus', so they could lock their lips together.

–––––

"–duck! Now!"

–––––

Ringing, loud and shrieking. The awful taste of iron takes over his palate, tinting pearlescent teeth red. Coughing hurts and his nose feels stuffed.

"–stay with me, please stay with me!"

He knows that voice. Knows those eyes, in all of their loving worry. He knows the arms that hold onto him, that picked him up. Knows the sound of bullets ripping out the barrel of the bayonets, so close to him and yet so, so far. He can tell he’s being carried away from the battlefield, but his eyes can only see the one holding him, fiercely running away from the enemy. 

He's scared. They both are.

–––––

Morpheus knew fear intimately. Whether an overwhelming sensation or a slowly filling reservoir, fear was a constant in his life. He was perpetually alert, terrified of turning the wrong corner in the long corridors of his family's manor and walking in on something he shouldn't, being caught with someone, being heard or seen or just… being. Fear was an uncaring mother, a distant father. It was bickering siblings and the cold winter air when all the doors had been closed and no matter how many times he knocked and screamed, no one would open it for him. Fear was a high fever that lasted for a week, curling up in his bed on an empty stomach and hearing his mother's muffled voice outside his bedroom complaining that she couldn't possibly go to the duchess’ soiree with a sick child at home, what would they think of her? 

Fear had made a home inside his ribs, squeezing his lungs and his heart out of their space, making him too small to even breathe. Now, fear had to share its home with a bullet. 

They seemed to get along well.

–––––

"I can't lose you now. I can't lose you. Don't leave me–"

Morpheus feels a hand pressing against the wound on his abdomen, covering it with fabric he believes comes from someone else's jacket. The squeezing feels strong enough to break his ribs, and the pain is so strong it's somehow numbing. He cries out, but the effort only makes the blood rush its way up his throat, coming out in hard, painful coughs. Morpheus' eyes roll back, as if looking inward is less terrifying than facing the damage around him. Another squeeze, this time not as strong, but just as overwhelming.

"Dream. I need you– need you to stay with me, okay? Just until the doctors come to help you. Stay with me. Stay with me, Dream!"

Staying is a difficult concept. He isn’t sure what is being asked of him and before he can focus on Hob's voice or on his presence, he’s already being placed on a gurney and carried away, the safety of Hob's protection torn from him in the blink of an eye. A blur of hands move over his body, pressing and pulling and pinning and squeezing and tearing through him. The pain is nauseating. He feels the prick of a needle in the crook of his arm, followed by the sudden embrace of the god he is named after.

–––––

"You know what your problem is, my lord?"

Morpheus had his arms crossed over his chest, brows knitted close as he watched Corey pace around the little balcony outside his bedroom. It was late, much later than he should ever be allowed to have visitors over at the manor, and Corey's quickly rising voice made him wish he'd never allowed him to step into his bedroom in the first place.

"Corey, enough." Nonchalance wasn't his strong suit, and the fear of being found out made his attempt at authority fall flat, earning him a mocking smile from the boy now standing just a few inches away from him.

"You just let them walk all over you. And then, you want to walk all over me." Corey spoke with the confidence of never having been told what to do, and the arrogance of never having to own up to his actions. "I'm not like you, Morpheus."

Standing up for himself was hard, but having his pride assassinated for no reason was not something Morpheus was going to allow. Hefelt his cheeks warming up, along with the tightness in his chest, and a stinging feeling in his eyes. "You know very well where I stand with my family. If you had any regard for me or our friendship, you would not ask me to put my life at risk in the way you do." 

"Come on! Be a man for once in your life!" Corey's arm curled around Morpheus' waist, closing the little distance still between them. Morpheus was caught by surprise, and perhaps his stomach knew to react before any other part of him, because he felt nauseous at the thought of what was about to happen. As if he knew, in that moment, that Corey would inadvertently sign his death sentence. "Even a woman would have more of a spine than you do."

"Let go of me!"

"Make me."

"Morpheus."

Time stood still as his father's voice cut through the air, striking him harder than his fist could. It was terrifying. Morpheus could feel as his heartbeat picked up its pace, to come to a sudden, suffocating stop. Every blink of his eyes seemed to take longer and longer, and now he was no longer present, but a spectator to the violence of a child unloved, punished for seeking it out in strangers.

–––––

Time moves slowly.

Hob feels as if he can see the passage of time with every drip of sweat running down the nurse's forehead. He watches as soldiers are brought in on gurneys or carried by other officers, battered and bloodied, and listens to the pained screams of men losing limbs to ensure they won’t lose their lives. With every hour that goes by, time seems to stretch its legs and sit down for a nap. No matter how much Hob taps his foot or bites at his nails or curses at the wind, nothing seems to make it go faster. Nothing.

It's infuriating how scared he is. Hob saw the bullet coming from a mile away, somehow. It seemed far away and up close at the same time, like his perception of events had been divided in two; the one who acted and the one who watched. He looked in the eyes of the enemy, with his gun pointed at Morpheus and for some reason he didn't move, he didn't lift his own gun to shoot. All he was able to do was yell "duck" and Morpheus, instead of doing as he was told, turned to look at him. Morpheus' eyes were locked on Hob's the moment the bullet cut through his abdomen, lodged somewhere between his ribs, punching the air out of Morpheus' lungs, light blue eyes rolling to the back of his skull as his body fell to the ground. 

Hob stood still. Time stood still as well, like a disapproving father, with its arms crossed and brows furrowed, saying, in all its wisdom, a resounding I told you so.

Now, all that was left was to wait. Hob isn’t sure he can do it.

At that moment, a nurse comes towards him, with what seems to be a crumpled dirty envelope held in one of her hands.

"Are you Sergeant Robert Gadling?"

"That would be me, yes." Hob stands quickly, adrenaline shooting through his spine the moment his name is called. The nurse doesn’t seem upset or like the carrier of bad news. She also doesn’t seem too giddy. "So, how's the captain?"

"Captain Apeiron is out of surgery and is expected to recover." 

The relief is clear in the young nurse's voice, and Hob is able to let out the breath he'd been holding for what feels like an eternity at that point. He knows that he and she have different reasons for being relieved; for her, letting someone with the surname Apeiron die would be akin to killing royalty, with all the consequences tied to it. For him, losing Morpheus would be like a sort of living death. A life with no meaning. Now, he at least has hope. "That is wonderful news! I don't even know how to thank you–"

"Perhaps you could take this out of my hands, Sergeant Gadling." She hands over the crumpled envelope to Hob. It clearly had been opened a couple of times already, and by the way she spoke, he can tell that she is aware of its contents. "I would not want to have Captain Apeiron's personal correspondence in my possession. I believe it would be better to hand it over to you."

Hob takes the envelope, offering the nurse a gentle, knowing smile. It feels like they share a secret now, like they are partners in a crime Hob is not sure he is willing to commit. There is very little that he wouldn't do for Morpheus. "Ah, yes. Of course. I'll make sure to give it back to him as soon as he wakes." 

"You'll be able to see him soon. I'm sure he'll be delighted by your visit." She gives him a small smile, knowing in its own way. As she begins to walk away, Hob stops her, grabbing her arm gently.  

"I'm sorry I did not ask sooner, what is your name?" It would only be right to know the name of his accomplice. 

"Walker, sir. Rose Walker."

"Thank you, nurse Walker."

Hob is alone once again, now with the dirty, crumpled envelope in hands and curiosity enough to kill a thousand cats nine times over. He knows himself well enough to know that, sooner or later, he would read whatever it was that Morpheus felt was important enough to carry to battle with him. 

He opens the envelope carefully, eyes scanning through the impeccable handwriting of someone he realises Morpheus has never mentioned before. Hob doesn’t know much about his lover's family, save for the fact that they apparently don’t like him very much. As Hob reads the letter, the missing pieces of Morpheus' puzzle seem to fall into place.

Dearest Brother, 

I write with unimaginable pain in my heart. Our younger brother, Perses, has fled from home, leaving mother and father absolutely distraught. Our siblings have not taken to this news well either. Aite might be suffering the most, for mother seems to be taking out all of her frustrations with our brother’s sudden disappearance on her. Eros seems to be most unaffected, even though I know deep in my heart that they’d wished to be the one leaving and not Perses. Eris is known for thriving in the most dire of environments, so I truly don’t worry much for her at present. Pepromeno remains as removed from our family matters as usual. He is perhaps the only one of us who has retained some sanity, even if at times I must question if he even had any to begin with.

Morpheus, I wish not to burden you with this news, but only to warn you of what awaits when you return to us. Perses spoke at length of his grievances with the way mother and father treated you and I fear this might have made our parents resent you even more. Father has given away most of your belongings. I managed to save some of your books, and the box with your letters to Lucienne and Corey. Mother wishes to make your bedroom into a closet for her winter coats.

I’m sure the war is not treating you kindly. I hope you have found some solace in being away from home, at the very least. I was glad to hear of this Sergeant Gadling in your last letter. If he is anything as you describe, I am sure you are in better company there than you would be here with us. You were never the most open when it came to matters of the heart, so I am honoured you decided to confide in me.

Whatever you decide to do after the war, know that I support you, Morpheus, and that I will do whatever is in my power to not let them harm you any longer.

I miss you with all my heart, dear brother. 

Your sister, 

Teleute Apeiron

–––––

Morpheus wakes up the next morning to the sound of birds chirping outside his window. The light filtering through the thin white curtains was bright enough to have him blinking a few times, and despite the rather comfortable pillow underneath his head, he still felt stiff as a board. The natural instinct was to sit up, to take in his surroundings; this was definitely not his tent. When he did try to sit up, the pain on his abdomen seemingly cut through his nerves, and he regretted the decision with a pained grunt, letting his head that had barely been lifted hit the pillow again.

He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to take in a slow breath. The pain was also mixed with a general soreness and a bitter taste in his mouth that he can’t quite place. He knows he'd been sleeping, but there is not an ounce of rest in his body. He manages to turn his head to face away from the window, and when he opens his eyes again, Morpheus is greeted by the image of Hob sleeping on a chair next to his bed. Maybe he has died and this is heaven. Maybe, just maybe, Morpheus will be rewarded with his happy ending in the afterlife. Away from all the pain and pressure of being a member of his own family, away from fear and needing to hide. 

His lips curl into a little smile as he watches Hob's chest rising and falling slowly. He  wants to reach out to touch, to close the distance between them. His attempt to do so causes another sharp pull of pain to run through his nerves, earning him another laboured grunt, this time loud enough to wake Hob from his slumber.

"Hm?" Hob startles, taking in a quick and sharp breath as his eyes shoot open. It takes him a moment to focus on Morpheus and it’s endearing to watch as his wary expression softens into a smile. "Dream, you're awake–"

Hob stands quickly, then kneels next to the bed to be at eye level with Morpheus. It makes his chest fill with joy, watching Hob come closer. Morpheus can’t help but smile, even if he feels like his body is falling apart from the neck down. Hob rests a hand on Morpheus cheek, thumb caressing the thin skin underneath his eye gently. Morpheus thinks there might be tears in Hob's eyes. "Dearest, darling, dove… You're okay?" There’s a parcel of fear in Hob's voice, as if he too can’t believe that they are both there, alive and (somewhat) well. Morpheus can hear the shakiness in Hob's voice, feel it on the palm resting on his cheek. It hurts to smile, but no pain is too great if it’s in service of the one he loves. 

"..m.. I'm okay." Morpheus' voice is hoarse, and his throat feels impossibly dry. It nearly sends him coughing just from speaking. He is glad that Hob is quick to reach for a glass of water left on the small table by the bed, bringing the cup to his lips carefully. The feeling of water running down his throat feels like healing, a soothing sensation he can’t get enough of. Maybe that's the reason why he isn’t crying; he doesn’t have enough fluids in him to do so.

“It’s been… a whole day, I think. You got shot in the abdomen, I was able to get you off of the battlefield in time to get us here…” Hob remains close, his hand returning to Morpheus' cheek as soon as he is done with the water. When he speaks again, it’s clear that the dam is about to break; he can’t possibly hold in the relief he's feeling anymore. "...I thought I'd lost you. Morpheus, I– Dream, I thought I'd lost you–" 

"I am not. Going anywhere." Morpheus can feel his own breath getting shaky; just the small strain that nearly crying puts on his abdomen is enough to put him in even more pain. It doesn’t matter. Hob is there with him. He'd survived. Morpheus might have been sent to war so his parents could get rid of him, but he is not going down so easily. Not when he’d found Hob. "...not without you."

Hob's smile feels like the sun. It feels warm and healing, like the entire universe is contained within it, like all the goodness in the world can be found in the crinkling in the corner of his eyes. Morpheus wants to reach out and touch, to bring Hob closer, to kiss him. Suddenly, he feels overwhelmed with emotion, and it makes him cry out, pain both physical and emotional crashing his system. He feels like a child, scared and confused, but no child could experience the feelings taking hold of him. Even with his skin torn and burned, his blood spilled and drained, he feels safer in that hospital bed than he’d ever felt in his own bedroom. And Hob is here with him, smiling and touching him gently as he is born again. No longer Morpheus. Dream.

"–Dream, please, you cannot exert yourself while you're like this. You need to rest, okay?" Hob's eyes darted to the door, checking to see if there was anyone else nearby. Morpheus concludes they are alone, for Hob leans in and presses a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. "Regain your strength so that we can leave here together. We'll never have to step on a battlefield ever again. I’m not risking losing you, not again.”

"What are you suggesting?" Hob must have gone mad while Morpheus was unconscious. He scans Hob’s expression for an ounce of doubt, but can’t find anything but the confidence of a man with renewed faith. It's inspiring, like they can do anything.

"I met a nurse that I think would be willing to help me fake your death."

"Excuse me?" Yes, Hob has gone mad. There was no other explanation.

"Dream, rest. Rest and we'll think of the details later."

Perhaps Dream has gone mad too, for all he does is make an attempt at nodding. As he allows sleep to take him once again, he feels Hob’s lips press a kiss to his forehead.

vii. epilogue

The streets of London are unusually busy this evening. The influx of clients coming in through the doors of the White Horse seems like a blessing after so long without a steady clientele. The morning paper has the news printed in large, bold letters on the first page: THE WAR IS OVER. Soldiers are coming home after nearly three years serving the crown in the battlefield, and it calls for celebration. Nearly every room at the Inn is booked, and the tables are filled with people, eating, drinking and singing their hearts out. Even with the gloomy weather, the city has never looked more colourful and alive.

Upstairs, in one of the bedrooms, Dream takes an afternoon nap. He’s cocooned under a couple of blankets, holding onto his pillow like his life depends on it. Ever since running away from the war, Dream allows himself the luxury of sleeping soundly, whenever he isn’t plagued by nightmares of the battlefield. 

Hob sits on the bed with the covers up to his lap, reading a book, one hand on Dream’s pillow, tangled in his wild, dark curls. He takes a glimpse at the clock on the wall, and leans down to shower Dream’s face with kisses. “It’s time to wake up, dove…” 

“mmh… not. now.” Dream scrunches up his nose, brows furrowing as he tries to pull the covers over his head. Hob is quicker, letting go of his book to pull Dream onto his lap. 

“Yes, now. You’ve slept through the afternoon. Your sister might get here any time now.” 

Dream’s eyes shoot open, and he is quick to sit up, his wild hair falling over his eyes. Hob can’t help but feel an overwhelming endearment at seeing Dream in such a vulnerable, yet comfortable state. Knowing that it's for his eyes only, and if it is up to him, it will remain that way for the rest of their lives.

“I nearly forgot— thank you, my love.” He presses a quick kiss to Hob’s lips, climbing out of bed and heading to look through his suitcase. Even though they have a wardrobe in their rented room, neither of them have ever unpacked their suitcases, in case they need to leave unexpectedly. Tonight, they’ll be leaving the Inn for good. “Are you ready to go?” 

“I’ve been ready for hours now. Couldn’t help it, I’m very excited.” Hob climbs out of bed too, walking towards Dream and taking him by the hand. “Your clothes are folded and waiting for you in the bathroom. Would you like me to run your bath?” 

Dream smiles, leaning in to kiss Hob properly. “I would like that very much, my love.” 

He’s still surprised by the little things Hob does for him. Even though they’ve been living at the Inn for nearly six months now, and his wound is considerably better, Hob hasn’t allowed him to carry anything heavy, or to do any heavier work at the Inn to help pay for the room. While Hob stocked the cellar and did most of the maintenance, Dream taught the innkeeper's daughters to read and helped his wife with the cooking, and even would work as a translator when foreigners came around. The innkeeper has begged them to stay, saying the White Horse couldn’t possibly cope with the loss of its best guests, but even though life at the Inn has treated them kindly, it is too dangerous to stay in London if they want to start over. Legally, Morpheus Apeiron is dead. Teleute will give him forged documents, and they’ll finally be able to move on. 

Dream takes a quick bath, and Hob still stays close by in case he needs help. Some days he can get around fine,  if only a little slower than usual. Other times, he needs to use a cane or even stay in bed. Dream doesn’t mind it. His life is better now than it has ever been before. After he gets ready, Hob carries their suitcases downstairs, setting them down by their usual table. They don’t need to wait for too long.

The air seems to shift inside the Inn when a woman of otherworldly beauty walks in through the door. She wears a dark grey dress, her curly, raven hair styled in the latest fashion. Her skin is as dark as the night sky, and seems to gleam in the light like stars. Her smile is like moonlight, and people can’t help but look at her, even if for a second. It would be wrong to not look at the moon when stepping outside on a clear night. It would be a greater offence to not look at the moon when she graces them with her presence.

Hob is about to make a comment, but the look on Dream’s face tells him everything he needed to know. Of course that can only be Teleute Apeiron. He’s not sure there’s a single person in that family that isn’t extremely good looking. 

“Might I join you, gentlemen?” Her voice is sweet like honey, a nice complement to the full baritone of Dream’s register. Hob stands and reaches for her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. Dream remains seated.  Even though he wants to stand and hug his sister, it's best to not call too much attention to them. 

“It would be our pleasure, my Lady.” Hob pulls the chair for her, waiting for Teleute to sit down before taking the seat across from her. Dream sits in between them at the round table, and he can barely contain his happiness. The two people he loves most in the world are right there with him. 

“How have you been, dear sister? You look well.” He can’t hide the emotion in his voice, even though he tries his best to not let it show in his face. Teleute reaches to take Dream’s hand in hers, squeezing it gently. 

“I am well, dearest Daniel. You look well too. I’m glad to see Harry has been treating you well.” 

Hob and Dream look at each other for a moment. Not the names they would prefer, but they know they can still keep their real names in private. That's not a hindrance. It’s their ticket to freedom.

“Ah, yes. He’s great company, I must admit.” 

“I see. I’m sure he thinks the same of you, don’t you, Mr. Gadlen?” 

“I’ll be honest, I have my complaints.” 

–––––

Hob sits on a train booth with Dream, holding him close as Dream sleeps with his head resting on Hob’s shoulder. Teleute has found them a small farm up north, and bought it with the money of a ruby brooch she’d found among Dream’s belongings after he’d left for war. He watches as the night sky seems to clear outside the window and the landscape changes around them, the endless hills of the English countryside looking like a sea of green against the dark velvet of the sky, glittering with stars that seem to guide the way home. Hob has spent a large part of his life in London, but he can’t be more glad to be leaving. Can’t be more glad to have found Dream, to have learned what love truly is. 

“…Hob?” 

Dream’s voice breaks him out of a sort of trance. He looks to the side to find a pair of blue eyes looking up at him with a gentle, honeyed look to them, doused with both sleep and unmistakable fondness. Hob has done that, taken away the rigid, alert look from Dream’s eyes, taken away the fear and replaced it with love. 

“Yes, duck?” 

“…I love you.” 

It still strikes Hob dumb to hear Dream say it, even more when it's completely unprompted. “I love you too, Dream. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life.” 

Dream’s hand reaches for the back of Hob’s neck, guiding him down for a sleepy kiss. “…then get some sleep, for me? We’ll be home soon. Don’t want you falling asleep on me the moment we get there.” 

“Sorry, old habit. I… can’t help but feel like I have to keep watch.” 

Dream knows better than to argue. “I’ll keep watch then. I’ve slept enough today, you did a lot of work at the Inn.” 

Hob also knows better than to argue, and he can't help but feel his cheeks warm up a little at the thought of Dream keeping watch, of Dream taking care of him. “Promise me something then?” 

“Anything, my love.” 

“That from this day on, when I wake up, there will be only your eyes to greet mine.” 

Dream leans in to press another kiss to Hob’s lips.

“I promise.” 

[imaginativeamateur]

HEY!!!! I read your kakashi x reader in which kakshi takes care of tired reader and it was *chef’s kiss* so i was thinking if you could a kakashi x reader in which the reader gets poisoned during a mission. They get a small scratch so it does not work quickly. So when they get home, they start to feel a bit dizzy and then start coughing up blood LOTS of blood ( if you don’t mind). So kakashi gets worried and takes them to the hospital. When they get there tsunade tells them it is a rare type of poison so they will need a day or two to make the antidote. So the reader is in pain and coughing up blood. Kakashi tries their best to comfort them. Sorry it is long. Feel free to ignore it. Sorry for bad english. THANK YOU ✨

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] Unbearable

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x gn!Reader

Note: Firstly, I'm glad that you like that piece, anon:D and your idea is fantastic!!! Okay, this one is a bit longer than what I usually write for, probably around 2,000 words. It's a mix of angst and fluff, the ending is fluffy though. And I didn't know what to name this one either:D Without further ado, please enjoy!

You pushed the door open, exclaiming happily when you finally got to sniff the familiar scent of his signature dishes, “I’m home, Kakashi!”

“How was your mission, love?” Wiping his palms on a handkerchief, he lifted his eyes from the pan to quickly examine if you had any injuries.

“Absolutely successful! We captured and brought the rebels back for investigation. My captain will be reporting it to the Hokage so I’m off for now!” You made your way next to him in the kitchen, pulling off your gloves in the process, “What are you making?”

Kakashi went off talking about the dishes he was preparing for your dinner but your mind turned fuzzy in the middle of his sentence. You lost your balance and tumbled backward as your sight blurred, not able to see anything clearly. With his quick reflex, the Copy Ninja caught you by your forearm and guided you to the floor, constantly asking if you were okay. Kakashi’s visible eye widened, brows furrowing as his hands roamed to search for any injuries that his eyes did not catch. You had no fatal wounds except for several scratches here and there, and he could sense your depleted chakra level. Lifting your body up in his arms, he whispered as he carried you to your shared bedroom, “You probably overused your chakra again. You should be back to normal tomorrow after a good rest.”

You sprawled tiredly in your bed, having no appetite for a meal and Kakashi respected it, he knew when it came to reviving a Ninja’s chakra, nothing would be able to beat some decent sleep. He let you stay by yourself for a few hours and went to finish his reports, returning to check on you once in a while. When he was finally done with work, Kakashi quietly slipped under the blanket on his side of the bed, carefully scooted closer to your warmth, hugged you close, and peacefully closed his eyes. In the middle of the night, you were woken up by the burning sensation that coursed through your entire body and a terrible headache, having just enough time to flip onto your side in case you would vomit right then and there. And you suddenly coughed, your throat was torn when the crimson liquid spattered onto the white tiles, bled your shirt, and dripped down from your chin. Being a light sleeper, the silver-haired immediately shot up from his pillow, switched the lights on, and scrambled down to the ground. You were trembling for the time being, and within a split second, Kakashi scooped your motionless body in his arms, rushing for the hospital.

He knew for sure that you were poisoned given the symptoms that were starting to surface. The hospital workers were greatly intimidated by the threatening aura that he sent, still hugging you tight as he brought you to the operation room himself. You continued to cough in his arms, and he did not mind his turtleneck being covered entirely by your blood. Tsunade arrived with a hurried disposition, and Sakura followed close behind her lead. Kakashi immediately reported your condition to the Fifth Hokage, grimacing when he saw blood pooling on the hospital bed as the Medic’s chakra slowly entered your body. He fought to retain himself—to not sprint to your side and cradle you tight, to not bring his hand up and wipe the blood staining the corner of your lips. It was all too much to him to see you panting in agony—

“Sakura,” the blonde Medic commanded, “set up for poison extraction. Get three more people.”

The pink-haired left the room after her teacher’s assignment, fleeting on her feet when she saw your tightly shut eyes and Kakashi’s scary expression as though he was going to burn the place down. Tsunade turned to the Copy Ninja, who was leaning against the wall with a visible eye that settled a tone darker, and called, “Kakashi, I need you to hold Y/N down when I extract the poison.”

He shuddered, unsure if he would still be able to maintain the last bit of composure left. The silver-haired found it impossible to remain himself when came to your safety, but he padded to your side, shaking hands reaching out to the pale face of yours. The Godaime assured him that everything would be okay and the man took a deep breath, moving his palms to rest on both of your shoulders as the rest of the team arrived, getting to work the second they passed the door. Kakashi held onto your upper body and arms, pinning you down onto the bed when the blonde started to focus chakra on her hands. “It’ll hurt, make sure Y/N stays still,” she said before the glowing green entered your body.

Kakashi could feel his sweats running cold against his temple, his uncovered eye fixed on Tsunade's hands, periodically glancing back at your face to make sure that you were fine. His grip on your wrists was tight but not bruising, fearing that it would add to the pain that you were already enduring from the poison. The Copy Ninja had his other forearm across your shoulder blades, pressing your torso in place as the Medic worked diligently. It hurt and you yelped, shrieking from the pure pain every time her chakra seeped inside. Kakashi was restless, biting on his own lips to halt himself from releasing his grasp and hug you tight. Your eyes turned dull when Tsunade finally got the last bit of poison out of your system, heavily placing your head back onto the damp pillow as the silver-haired wiped the sweats on your forehead. When all of you thought it was over, things took a different turn—for worse.

Pain suddenly shot through your body, and you started to cough more vigorously than earlier, blood covered the white sheets of the hospital bed. The whole room turned their attention back on your figure, your eyelashes fluttered, wincing when you felt the tiniest bits of your muscles being squeezed and ripped apart. Kakashi stepped back when he looked at his hands smeared by your blood, and grimaced, “… Didn’t you get the poison out already?”

The Medic furrowed her brows, examining the extract she got in a test tube, “It’s my first time seeing this type.”

Kakashi went feral, “How long?”

The sounds of your coughs filled the quiet atmosphere of the operation room. Every ticking of the clock seemed too audibly loud each passing second the blonde observed the Copy Ninja’s face. She eventually sighed and turned to the exit, “I’m not sure. It will take a while for us to create the antidote.”

“You can’t leave Y/N suffering like this, Lady Tsunade,” he breathed out laboriously, “I can’t.”

Kakashi’s words left his lips like a desperate plea as he stared at the ground. Tsunade shut her eyes to summon enough vigor to walk out of the room. Sakura hesitantly left shortly after, silently closing the door after sending her former sensei a sympathetic look. With shaking legs that were almost unable to hold him up, the silver-haired made his way to a chair beside your bed, tracing his thumb across your lips to wipe the bloodstain away. As a Shinobi, he was too accustomed to seeing open wounds and deep gashes—too familiar with his body covered in blood after a mission, especially when he got injured. But seeing you in this state made him crumble in dejection and turmoil.

“Kakashi,” your inaudible whisper pulled him out of his deep thoughts, “what if I…”

Before you were able to finish your sentence, Kakashi hushed you with a sign as he pulled the blanket up to your chest, “Don’t say anything, love. I’m not going to let you…” And he trailed off, finding it hardly possible to continue what he was saying. You were still in pain, forehead scrunched up to restrain the groans from eliciting, tight fists hidden under the cover because you did not want him to be more distressed than he already was. Kakashi slouched his back, head dropping into his palms, cursing under his breath, “I should’ve come with you, should’ve been more careful, should’ve gotten you to the hospital sooner. I-I’m sorry, Y/N… Please, please just be okay.”

His words fell apart, slipping past his lips muffled and croaked. It had been a long while since he last felt the wet droplets tittering on the edge of his lash line—range and misery boiled in his veins as he swore to himself this would be the last time he would see you like this for as long as he was alive. He did not dare to look at you, not when he had to helplessly witness his dearest person suffering. Your breathing decelerated, the sweats beading your hairline and neck had long evaporated, and you fell asleep between his soft whispers, exhausted and drained.

Every hour passed with dread for everyone. Each time Tsunade came back to check on you set up a thin wall of hope but it all shattered shortly when she shook her head and withdrew out of the room. You were coughing less, but that did not ease the Copy Ninja because you were shriveling impossibly lifeless. You could not swallow whatever food they supplied, only able to intake water and intravenous fluid. It was after lunch when Tsunade knocked on the door—two days since you were brought to the hospital, one day since you went unconscious—and Kakashi went to slide it open for her. No longer displayed a hopeful expression, he could not bear the disappointment and emptiness from the Medic’s shake of her head. But this time, Tsunade came with good news.

“We found the antidote.”

A single sentence from the blonde levitated the somber atmosphere that was clouding Kakashi’s mind. A contented smile found its way across his lips—though covered by the mask, Tsunade could clearly see his pupil dilating and the furrow between his brows starting to slowly vanish. With a quick move, she injected the solution into your arm with Kakashi watching closely, not letting any details went unnoticed.

“The fever should be gone after lunch, I’m not quite sure when Y/N will wake up though. That depends on an individual’s ability to recover.” She stated, “You two take care.”

The silver-haired thanked the Godaime and shut the door after she had left for several seconds. Then, he went back for a quick shower—the last thing he wanted was you worrying for his enervated appearance after two days without rest—not forgetting to plant a kiss on your forehead before leaving. When he returned, Kakashi brought a basket of fresh fruits with him, carefully peeling oranges and placing them on a plate for you in advance. He even went as far as bringing your pillow because you would be staying for another few days, and he wanted to make you feel comfortable. After checking over everything, he leaned his head back and closed his eye, stealing a quick nap with your hand in his—so he would know when you wake up.

The moment your eyes fluttered open, you quickly scanned the room, and your gaze settled on the very Hatake sleeping peacefully, then to his fingers intertwining yours. You let out a soft breath, “Thank you, Kakashi.”

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

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @thenightfallingstar @iam-gaaras-loveintrest @animepickle7

[shemarmooresfedora]

All Clear

Summary: Today is the day you were finally cleared for physical exercise after giving birth to twin babies.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: This is a stand-alone smut one-shot in my long ‘Rebuilding Family’ fic. You do not need to have read it to understand this nor must you read this to continue the plot of RF.

MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)

Content/Warnings: penetrative sex, soft!dom!spencer, breeding kink, swearing (this is my first smut so please let me know if there’s something else i missed)

Word Count: 1.1k

You awoke to birds chirping outside and the sunlight rays beaming into the bedroom through the sheer curtains.

Spencer’s arm was draped over your waist and he was snoring softly into the back of your neck. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, catching up on all of your notifications before you saw the date.

You smirked mischievously to yourself and set your phone back down. You proceeded to push your ass into Spencer and wiggle ever so slightly.

Spencer’s arm tightened around your waist instinctively as his snoring abruptly stopped. You could feel the slight strain growing in his flannel pajama pants.

“What do you think you are doing, my sweet girl?” Spencer whispered in your ear in his gravelly morning voice.

You rolled over in bed to face him, “I’m cleared for strenuous physical activity today including sex.”

“And?” Spencer grinned.

You whined, he was going to make you say it.

“I need you, love,” you began to kiss his neck.

Spencer groaned, it was like music to your ears.

“How much time do we have, sweetheart?” he asked.

“10 minutes before we have to get Jo up for school, less than that if one of the twins starts crying.”

Spencer flipped you over so you were on your back with him on top of you. He made quick work of pulling off the t-shirt of his that you were wearing to bed, beginning to suck your left breast while kneading your right.

“Spence, baby, you know I love when you worship my body but I need you now,” you squirmed underneath him.

“Mmh,” Spencer hummed in acknowledgement, “I love it when my girl is so needy,” he pulled away from your chest and hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties, tugging them off.

His clothes quickly followed, being added to the pile of stripped clothes on the floor.

“You ready?” he kissed you again, “I’ll go slow. You just tell me if you have any pain or discomfort and we’ll stop.”

“Yes, I’m ready,” you nodded.

You locked your lips on to Spencer’s again as he entered you so you could catch his breathy groan in your mouth. Once he was fully in, he looked to you before moving.

“Please, Spence,” you bucked your hips up at him to convey your neediness.

With that, Spencer took off at a brutal pace in the best way possible. You moaned loudly but it was cut short as Spencer’s hand covered your mouth.

“As much as I love to hear you, sweet girl, I would rather not wake our kids,” he spoke, “You tap me if you need to stop.”

Spencer buried his face into your neck to muffle his own guttural groans.

Spencer raised one of your legs so it was above his shoulder as he continued to pound into you.

He grabbed your hand and placed it on your lower belly with his right on top.

“You feel that, baby? You feel how deep I am inside you,” he panted.

All you could do is moan with his other hand still clasped over your mouth.

“You want me to fuck another baby into you so soon? Is that what you want, my sweet girl? To fill you up?”

You whimpered.

“Fuck-” Spencer’s head fell back as he released his hand from your mouth.

“Fill me up, Spence,” you cried.

All of a sudden, there was a knock at the door, you and Spencer abruptly stopped, sitting as still as possible.

“Are you guys playing in there without me?” Jo asked.

“No, Princess. I will be down to play with you in just a second. I am just helping Mommy with something real quick,” Spencer spoke as calmly as possible, trying to catch his breath.

You and Spencer waited until the pitter-patter of little footsteps had descended down the stairs before resuming your previous activities. He slammed back into you at an even faster pace than before, adding his thumb to your clit to speed up the process.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he panted, “Want to see your beautiful face as you come undone.”

As if your body was just waiting for him to say those words, your legs began to shake as your walls tightened around him.

Spencer fucked you through the blinding pleasure that was your orgasm and you whispered in his ear, “I need your cum inside of me, love. Please.”

Spencer’s eyes practically rolled into the back of his head as he came, filling you with his warmth.

You kissed him as he came down from his high.

“When was the last time I said ‘I love you’?” Spencer grinned as you pressed your sweaty foreheads together.

“It’s always the last thing you say to me before bed, Spence,” you smiled softly.

“Well, still that’s over 8 hours ago. You need to hear it again. I love you,” he gave you one final kiss before getting out of bed.

“I love you too,” you replied.

He slipped his pajama pants and shirt back on before returning with a warm washcloth to wipe you down. As he placed one last soft kiss to your lips, Ollie started to cry on the baby monitor which led to Ophelia crying as well.

“I’ll get the twins, you make breakfast with Jo,” you patted Spencer’s chest.

-

You set the babies in their respective bouncers before leaning against the kitchen counter.

Spencer and Jo had just finished making freshly squeezed orange juice and oatmeal for breakfast.

He filled your cup up and you took a sip, Jo and Spencer eagerly waiting to hear your review.

“Mmm delicious! 5 stars!” you smiled.

Jo pushed her glass towards Spencer holding the pitcher, “Fill me up, Spence.”

You spit out your second sip in utter shock, coughing and reaching for the paper towels. Spencer was trying to keep a neutral expression while stifling a laugh.

“Jo, let’s not repeat that again please and remember you call me ‘Daddy’ or ‘Dad’ not ‘Spence’, okay?”

Jo nodded as Spencer poured her her orange juice and then she leapt off the counter and skipped to the table.

Spencer finally let out a little chuckle.

“Not funny,” you slapped him in the arm.

“Love, I tried to quiet you down as much as I can. My sweet girl is also my loud girl and I adore it,” he grinned, pulling you in for another kiss.

A/N: no, Y/N isn’t going to get pregnant again. i realized i forgot to write this in but she is on birth control again

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed, also please message me if you are not comfortable being tagged in smut, i removed all the minors from my normal taglist for this): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @mochionly @doctorreiding @reidsfish

[bcdwhcre]

“Betrayal,” Levi x Reader

Summary: The 3 Titan shifters (aka Annie, Reiner and Bertholdt) had stolen the last Titan serum and you end up getting framed. While you get tortured by the military police to reveal the truth, Levi tries his best to prove your innocence.

Idk if this would end up being a series, it just might bc even tho this was requested, I’m thinking about having a spin where after the reader gets tortured, they have like a life changing moment (kinda like Tokyo ghoul where after Kaneki gets tortured, he turns into an actual ghoul) kinda like that so bear with me🤧

Warnings!: abuse and torture!!!!

.

.

.

It was a normal day, the only day off the scouts had and they all spent it relaxing and talking with each other. You had sat next to your boyfriend, Levi, while having a few drinks when the military police had stormed inside the place.

The sudden harsh grabs of their hands on your body, slamming you down on the hard table was enough to cause pain through your body and you had let out a wince from the impact.

Their actions had made Levi jump up and try to shove them off your body, his anger boiling at the sight of you being put into handcuffs without them barely saying a word.

“Back up, Captain and let us do our job.” The guy ended up punching Levi clean in his jaw and made him stumble back.

“What the hell are you doing?” Armin had shouted, all the scouts ready to fight with the guards as they yanked your small body off the table.

“Y/N is under arrest for stealing the Titan serum and helping the traitors get away.” They spoke coldly, making your eyes widen at their words and Levi had looked surprised.

“That’s not true! I didn’t touch it!” You shouted, trying to resist their attempts of shoving you out the door and you had looked back at Levi.

“It’s not true, you have to believe me!” The last look he had given you was disappointment and that had made your heart shattered as they put you on the carriage.

The ride back to their station was quiet, except their disgusting words that they shot at you to make you feel guilty and even a guard mentioned how beaten you were going to be after they were done with you.

Your heart ached and your body shook from the amount of rage you felt running through your veins. You were sure you already had bruises forming on your skin from the rough pushing and shoving against the table.

Levi had stood in the middle of the room, watching you get taken out the door with the small of blood running down his nose and everyone stayed quiet, looking at the Captain.

He didn’t want to believe it but why would they suspect you? Out of all people? It had made him overthink about it but the look of terror on your face as you looked at him one last time had made him feel deep down in his gut that you were telling the truth.

He was your boyfriend afterall, he knew you pretty well and have been for over a year so he was positive he would know if you were a traitor and if you stole something as big as the Titan serum.

As you were shoved inside the cell, being locked away, you were left to your thoughts and the tears threatened to stream down your face as you tried to think of everything- how did you even end up here? What led you here?

It was a painful topic to think about, to even think about being a suspect, to think about being a traitor. There was no room for you to be a traitor even if you tried.

It had taken hours before the guards came back to bring you into a empty room, tying you to a chair to ‘ask you questions’ but in reality, they put you here to enjoy the torture they’re going to do to you.

“Where is the Titan serum?” One asked, making your sad tear filled eyes to look up at them and before you could even open your mouth, he had swung his fist to strike you across the face.

The rough impact caused blood to spit out of your mouth and onto the wooden floors, coughing it up as you tried to take steady breaths but it was far too difficult.

Levi had finally went up to the station with everyone, trying to reason with the military police and talk to them about the fact that their thoughts on you were completely false.

They had surprisingly let Levi through considering he is a scout but when he got through the area he wasn’t supposed to be in and had seen you in the room, the way you were breathing heavy and the way you face was already beaten to the point where he could barely recognize your face because it was covered it blood- it made him angry.

“Have you even done your actual fucking jobs or have you been beating her this entire fucking time?!” He shouted at them, making you raise your head at the sound of his voice and your heart began to break more if that was even possible.

“We are doing our job, you’re not even supposed to be this far back here. Get his ass out of here.” The mp ordered the guards to drag Levi out and he had looked at you with a pained look, shoving the guards off of him and walking out of the room by himself.

He didn’t want to leave you there but there wasn’t a whole lot he could do except talk to the higher ups and try to prove your innocence to them but that’s a lot harder than it sounds

Throughout the night, the guards didn’t let you sleep one bit. The long hours of them beating you whether it was with a stick, a whip- it didn’t matter. They had even used knives to cut up your skin, they didn’t care- for all they know you were a traitor to them.

The amount of blood that had covered your entire uniform was sick, you could barely even keep your eyes open and handle everything. You stopped crying, you stopped screaming, you were just emotionless.

And inside your head, you had zoned out enough to not think about the pain and think about the harsh beatings they were giving you. It felt like you had changed into a whole completely different person and gave yourself a new mindset from all this torture.

And it took two days.

Two days for Levi to find proof, two days for Levi to run up to the station and slam the proof on their desks along with bringing the scouts for evidence to show them that the people who had stole the Titan serum was no one else but the two Titan shifters, Reiner and Bertholdt.

The way Levi had rushed up to the chair you were still tied in, the rope digging in your skin from how tight it was- leaving dry blood stains from head to toe.

The guards still didn’t feel bad, shit, they still thought you did it but by their boss’ commands- they had to let you go.

Your eyes barely opened when Levi stepped in the room, all you could hear was muffling of voices and a blur of his face come into view.

He wanted to kill them desperately. The way he would enjoy watching his blade slice through their skins like butter but he kept his cool, he kept it together but deep down he wanted to scream at the sight of you. You were awful.

He had scooped you up in his arms, you could barely see his face from the blood but you ended up passing out eventually.

When you had regain consciousness, Levi had barely made it back to the base. All the scouts had looked at you in complete shock and even Armin had shed a few tears while Eren threatened to kill all the MPs.

“Just leave her be for a couple of days guys, she’s in bad shape.” Levi mumbled, he didn’t want to think about it too much- he didn’t want to stare at your bloody state or else it’ll send him off the deep end.

He didn’t know what to do but simply clean you in the bath tub. He had undressed you and sat you in there, making sure to sit you up so you wouldn’t fall. You held onto the edges of the bath, your eyes staring down at the clear water that soon was dark red from your blood.

You remained quiet which worried him, he knew it must’ve been traumatizing but he thought you would at least speak up by now.

“Y/N?” He whispered, running the cloth over your body ever so gently and this is when he got full looks of your wounds.

Deep cuts and slashes on your skin, from your back to your arms and legs. It was painful for him to look at it, he knew you would need stitches for them.

“Will you be okay for a few minutes? I need to go get the first aid.” He stared at you but your eyes stayed on the water, your head tilted down and your eyes barely even blinking.

Levi had sighed, standing up from his spot and left the room to hurry to the infirmary and come back so he can stitch you up himself. While he was gone, your eyes had moved around the bathroom and the bloody cloth he was using to wash you.

Once you had catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you stared at it for what seemed like forever- looking at the cuts that covered your pale body. Soon you started to laugh while tears filled up in your very eyes and even a few slipped down your cheeks as your laugh grew louder.

He had finally walked in the room, looking down at you and had felt a huge weight pin down on his heart. The mixed bloody tears on your cheeks and the laughter coming out of your mouth had him frozen in time until you finally caught his gaze, your laughing coming to a stop and your sobs started leaving your lips.

Levi rushed over, dropping the box and leaned over the tub to hug onto you but not so tight, making sure to watch your wounds. Your sobs had grown so loud that the scouts down the hall heard your crying, the pain escaping your throat was painful to their ears.

“Hey, shhh.” He had tried to comfort you, the guilt he felt had made him want to punch himself for not helping you sooner, it was his fault you were like this.

He stroked your hair back, tilting your head up to look at him fully and he couldn’t help but cry with you. The whimpers that escaped your busted lips had made him want to break down here and now.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.. you’re safe.” He repeated until your breathing had gone back to normal, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

He had resumed what he was doing. He grabbed the needle and thread, slowly starting to stitch you up while you silently cried in the tub, the water growing cold as your body ached. He had stitched you up in so many places that he could barely count, they completely went overboard with torturing you and he felt like it was on purpose.

When he finished cleaning off the dry blood off your naked body, he lifted you up and wrapped a towel around you. He watched the dark red water go down the drain and he cursed under his breath at the mess around the bathroom, blood everywhere.

You were silent again, numb to everything you had felt throughout the last few days, emotionless but felt the need to scream again but your throat was dry and empty and sore.

He was careful to dress you in comfortable clothes, mostly his t-shirt and some sweatpants after he made sure to put bandages over your stitches and cuts. He tugged his blankets back, laying you down and tucking you in.

Once your head had hit the pillow, your eyes shut and he sat at the edge brushing his fingers through your hair, watching you for a while.

“I’ll make sure they pay for this, I promise..” He mumbled, more to himself than to you before he pressed a kiss to your bruised cheek.

“I love you.”

Throughout the night he had slept beside you but made sure to keep his distance, he didn’t want to hurt you in any way and he knew you haven’t slept the whole time you’ve kept by the military police.

As you slept, all you dreamt of was nightmares and to you they felt so real. The way they would hit you, it felt like they actually did and when they had walked up to your bloody corpse, leaning down and even threatening to cut off your fingers.

The way their plyers had gripped onto your fingernails as they ripped it out with no remorse- it all felt too real. Your body would shake, jolt and even whimpers would fall from your lips as you slept. It had taken a while for Levi to even wake up from your movements.

“Y/N.” He tried to be as gentle as possible, placing his hand on your arm and that’s when you jolted awake, sitting up and panting.

He had removed his hand when you shot up, hesitating before he reached out for you again and when you felt his fingertips- you flinched hard, looking over at him like he was a stranger.

“It’s me.” He mumbled, your eyes adjusting to the dark and you looked at his pained expression and that made your breathing start to calm down.

“Sorry.” You whispered, wiping the sweat off your forehead and you looked down at your arms wrapped in bandages, seeing the blood start to leak through.

“Don’t be.. do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” You said coldly, moving to lay back down in bed and had your back facing him as you stared at the wall.

Levi wanted to desperately take your pain away, he wish he could trade spots and take all the damage instead. But as he sat there staring down at you for what seemed like an hour, he was afraid of losing you and afraid that you were slowly slipping away from his grasp.

He thought about comforting you, would that even be a safe option? He thought. You flinched at his slight touches and he didn’t want you to become afraid of him, he loved you more than anything.

He decided to scoot closer to you, carefully kissing the back of your head and rested his hand on a safe part of your upper arm, making you tense underneath his touch.

“Look, I know what you went through was traumatic.. believe me but please don’t push me away, I can’t lose you.” He said softly, making your eyes water instantly from the flashbacks that flooded your head, every slap, kick, punch, everything.

“Levi,”

“I just want you to be able to talk to me, you’re not alone, at all.”

“I know.” You simply said, not knowing what else to really say about the situation. You were beaten senseless, out of pure hatred, it changed you.

You decided to gently turn over to face him, scrunching up your nose at the pain that followed as you moved. Your eyes looked at his, your bruised face had made his heart hurt more than he could explain.

As you two sat there staring at one another, you carefully brought your weak hand up to caress his cheek and rubbed your thumb over his skin slowly.

He leaned his face more into your hand, the most affection he has gotten out of you and even then, you hesitated, you wanted to pull away. You didn’t want to be touched, talked to, you wanted to be left alone but you had to think about Levi’s feelings too and what he did for you.

“Thank you, for everything.” You mumbled, making his eyes instantly move to look at yours with a hint of hope in them.

“No need to thank me.”

“But I want to, for cleaning me up and trying to support me.. can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

You sat there for a moment, trying to think of a better way to put everything and you sighed, your lips pressing into a thin line and even that had made the pain shoot through your busted lips.

“I just- I’m not comfortable speaking about the details but what I will say is, I’m not the same.”

“Ive noticed.” He whispered, moving his hand to brush the strands of your hair back from your face and he gave you a weak smile.

“No matter what, Y/N, I’m here.. to love you, to take care of you, all of it. You’re not getting rid of me so easily.” This time you cracked a smile, squishing his cheeks playfully as you leaned over to press a quick kiss to his lips but even that caused you pain in your body.

“I love you, Lev.”

.

.

.

Soooo idk whether to make a part 2

But if I was, I was thinking of the reader going crazy from the traumatic experiences and even going as far as to killing the guards in cold blood— no one knowing who did it except Levi. Blah blah.

Tell me what you think

Also this one is longer and I’m actually glad and proud how it turned out. So this is why I wanna start pacing myself, it turns out better that way❤️ but my requests are ALWAYSSSSS open, just be patient with me. Mwah. Ps, if you read all that, I love you.

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

( tag list: @levis-odm-gear )

[ppersonna]

make me - myg | m

strawberries on a summer evenin'. baby, you're the end of June. i want your belly and that summer feelin', getting washed away in you - watermelon sugar, harry styles

↳ summary- an ordinary sleepover with your best friend turns into anything but ordinary, thanks to your ridiculously loud neighbors above you.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+ / nc17

↳ word count- 4.4k

↳ pairing- yoongi x reader

↳ genre-  pwp lol, smut, fluff, somehow the dirtiest fluff i have ever written bc there’s some depraved shit in here

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (dont...pls), dirty talk, rough sex, degrading talk, dom/sub undertones, bratty backtalk

↳ a/n- yooooo dawg this... was fun.  i hope you enjoy!!  ive been in my yoongi feels lately uwu. feel free to comment, message, dm, whatever u want babes.  i love you!

Yoongi thinks if he has to hear your upstairs neighbors fuck for another minute longer he might actually go crazy.

It’s been hours now.  The girl is screaming like a feral cat and the man is doing a terrible impression of a porn star, trying his best to talk dirty but really just calling the howling banshee awful names.  

If only his dick would be as annoyed as his brain.

He knows you’re awake next to him too.  The steady rise and fall of your breathing changed when the bad porn above you began—now it’s faint and too quick to indicate anything but your wakefulness.

“Ohhhhh oppa!” The girl above you screams.

It’s finally what breaks down the silence in your bedroom.  At her wanton sound, you and Yoongi are unable to stop yourselves from bursting into laughter.

Yoongi’s stomach hurts from laughing so hard.  Tears form at the corners of his eyes as you make the bed rumble from the force of your combined laughter.

“God, do they think that sounds hot?” You finally ask after settling down to mere giggles.

Yoongi shrugs and wipes away his tears. “Apparently.  He must like the way she sounds like a dying cat.”

His comment sends you into a spiral of laughter again, and you’re clinging to your chest as it heaves with exertion.

Yoongi is your best friend for a reason.  No one makes you laugh as hard as he does.  No one understands you the way he seems to be able to—it’s almost intuitive the way he can understand your feelings.  

You live for your weekly sleepovers.  You drink wine, watch terrible horror films, gossip about your other friend’s love lives, and fall asleep in your bed together.  It’s never been anything but blissful.

Until recently…

When your heart decided it would beat too fast around him.  When your brain decided to spin and weave stories of romance with your best friend.

Now, you can’t hardly think about anything else around the dirty blonde haired boy.  It’s overwhelming to all of your senses when you see him, feel him near you.  You want to kiss him, to love him, to tear his clothing off.

Which makes lying in your full size bed while the neighbors above you fuck and attempt to act out their wildest fantasies—badly—so much harder than usual.

“God,” Yoongi sighs and tugs the blanket up to his chin. “Does she even like it or do you think she’s faking it?”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust. “Ugh, I know I wouldn’t be into it.”

“You don’t like dirty talk?” He teases with a poke to your stomach.  It makes an eruption of nerves go off in your chest.

“Oh, no I do. But that’s not dirty talk,” you shrug. “He’s just being mean. There’s no sensuality underneath it.”

He hums and lays back down to stare at the ceiling.

“Give me an example,” he asks of you. It makes your cheeks flush red and you’re thankful for the darkness in your room to provide you cover.

“Um, well,” you cough awkwardly. “He’s saying shit like ‘you fuck anything don’t you?’ which, maybe she’s into degradation, but I’m not. Not that extreme.”  Your explanation sounds lame, but you continue anyway. “I prefer to hear things like ‘this slutty little pussy belongs to me’.  Possessive and hot at the same time without being too...uhh...hurtful.”

Yoongi feels his cock rise with piquing interest. There’s a nagging guilt about thinking of his best friend this way, and a tinge of jealousy thinking someone who isn’t him has said that to you.

He feels his throat dry up, and you wring your hands nervously on the blanket. The moaning above you doesn’t stop, and you can hear the telltale sound of flesh slapping on flesh, indicating they’ve commenced into penetration and it makes your body throb with annoyance, and with want.

There’s moments when a louder slap echoes through the room—it’s clear the man is slapping her somewhere—and she whines desperately.  Your core starts building that familiar heat, a slickness gathering you can’t stop. You press your thighs together tight and squirm as subtly as you can. You pray Yoongi doesn’t notice.  

Yoongi, however, does notice.  He breathes a sigh of relief internally knowing he’s not the only being affected by the commotion above. But he doesn’t understand the meaning behind it. For all he knows, you’re just turned on because—well, because it’s sex and it’s loud and who wouldn’t be a little turned on? You’re likely not at all aroused by him, or the thought of him. Right?

Another slap echoes through the room and you can tell by the way the girl gasps that her partner slapped her in the face.

“Damn,” you shiver.  Yoongi turns to peek at you through the darkness.

“You into that?” He asks curiously. “Face slapping?”

It’s hard to swallow for a moment—it feels like you’re trying to down a boulder.

“Uh, yeah,” you whisper. “Yeah, I like pain.”

Yoongi doesn’t reply and it makes you fear you’ve overstepped the line. You’ve gone too far off the ‘best friend’ track and the whole train is about to de-rail.

You’re opening your mouth to apologize for taking it too far when Yoongi finally speaks.

“Fuck it,” he sighs. “You want to fuck louder and establish dominance?”

The world stops turning.  You’re sure that gravity doesn’t exist anymore and the theory of relativity has been proven wrong.

Did Min mother fucking Yoongi, your best friend of over twenty years, just offer to have sex with you to...establish dominance over the neighbors above you attempting to make a cheap porn?

He’s looking at you normally, but there’s a glimmer in his eye that says more.  It says he wants you.  Your stomach twists in on itself.  There’s no way, there is no actual plausible way that the man beside you feels the same way about you as you do.

“You want to have sex with me?”

Yoongi’s cheeks turn pink and he looks away for a minute.

“I also want to date you,” he murmurs.  

If you thought the world ended before, you’re sure this is the fiery explosion that brings a new earth into life with a bang.

The noises from upstairs interrupt the romantic moment with a scream, a guttural howl from the man, and then muffled whispers and sighs.

“What do you say we keep them up all night too?” His mouth turns to a smirk as he awaits your reply.

“Yeah,” you nod as you throw the blankets off you.  “Fuck those guys, lets show them what real kinky sex looks like.”

Yoongi’s eyes turn feral as he works his eyesight down your body.  Your normal sleepwear outfit of a tank top and shorts looks like lingerie to him now and he’s salivating at the way he can see the curve of your breasts, and the press of your hard nipples against the fabric.

You’re throwing yourself onto Yoongi’s body in an instant, pinning him down to the bed and pressing your lips to his.  You waste no time in waiting for him now that you know—now that you’ve heard with your two ears that Min Yoongi not only wants to fuck you, but date you as well.   No use wasting any more time—the time for action is now.

The kiss is hot and Yoongi’s hands falter for a moment in surprise before he’s coming to his senses and tugging at your tank top quickly to pull it off your body.  His hands feel hot on the bare skin of your back, rubbing at your spine and up to your shoulders.  It makes you shiver, and you slide your tongue into his mouth to explore the heat inside.  

His hands navigate forward to cup your breasts, fingers toying with your nipples—pinching and pulling and rolling between the pads of his fingers.  It has you keening into his touch and grinding down on his basketball-shorts-covered cock. 

Yoongi pulls away from you and pulls at a nipple harshly, which makes you gasp out loud.

“It’s real cute how you think you’re in charge right now,” he points out.  “Real fucking cute.  It’s gonna make me almost feel bad for punishing you.”

You’re sure your soul is going to leave your body at hearing your best friend’s sexy baritone voice verbalize your dirtiest fantasies.  If this is how you react now…, may God have mercy on your poor little pussy.

Yoongi thinks he’s possibly never been harder than he is right now.  His best friend, best girl, is sitting atop his boner and he’s twisting your pretty nipples so hard they’ll surely turn purple soon.  You sound so sweet when you whine, and you’re starting to whine louder as he continues the pressure on your tits.

“You thought you could take control, didn’t you?” He asks, slipping further and further into the dominant act.  He loves this, thrives off it.  He didn’t think you’d ever be into it—none of the girls he’s dated before have—and he’s thrilled he doesn’t have to hide this depraved part of himself.

You nod and bite your lip, wincing as he tugs once more on a nipple before letting go.

“Cute,” he sighs.  “But wrong.”

In an instant, he flips you two over and he feels his heart and cock swell at the sight of your sweet eyes widening at the quick change.  

“This feels better, don’t you think?” He asks.  You nod and he shakes his head.  “Answer me, baby doll.  You’re already about to get punished.  You wouldn’t want to make me not let you cum, would you?”

The fear in your eyes increases and you clear your throat to talk.

“No sir, I don’t want that.”  

Yoongi nearly moans.  Hearing you call him sir, being underneath him—it’s his wet dreams come to life.

“Then tell me,” he instructs. “Tell me you need me in charge.”

You’re dying to be a brat, really wanting to pull Yoongi completely out of his shell, show him the full extent of what he can do to you.  Plus, you really wanna give your neighbors a show—a taste of their own medicine, don’t you?

“What if I don’t want to?” You tease.

Yoongi’s grin turns wider and his eyes sparkle with knowing. He’s a through and through brat-tamer, and by the end of the night you’ll be crying for forgiveness.

“Little tease,” he growls as he leans down to latch his mouth on your abused nipple.  

You gasp out loud, and it turns into desperate mewling as his teeth nibble and pull.  You’ll be bruised up for days, surely.  He sucks hard, pulls on it roughly and bites with meaning. You just know your panties are completely soaked.

“Talking back to me, huh? You think that’s going to get you where you want to go tonight, little girl?”

He turns his attention to your other nipple, eyes peering into yours as you struggle to answer with the sizzle of pain in your breast.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You send back with a shake of your hips under him.

The growl he delivers around your nipple and the quick bite makes you yelp.

“I think I should shut that loud mouth of yours up.”

You smile in response and his fingers tug down your shorts.  You lift your hips and allow him to pull the clothing off and you’re left in your slicked up panties.

“Oh yeah?” You retort.  “You gonna shut me up with that fat cock?”

Yoongi visibly shivers. His spine tingles deliciously for minutes after the hair on his neck settles.  He’s dreamed of you like this, under him and begging to be put in your place.  And now, here you are.  And he can’t wait to make it a reality.  He’s even forgotten about the loud neighbors.  It’s now just all about you.

“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Dirty little slut so horny to get her mouth on my cock.”

Yoongi allows a finger to trail down your clothed slit, and he outwardly groans at how wet you are.  You’re unable to hold back your whimpers of need—he’s so close to where you need him most and where you’ve dreamed of having him.

“You talk a big game for someone who’s drenched before I’ve even done anything,” Yoongi says with a smirk.

Your legs tremble as he pulls your panties to the side to expose your drenched folds. He dips a finger in and touches your clit. You moan in unison—he’s captivated by the heat and slick, you’re feeling air escape your lungs with every swirl of his finger.

“Y-Yoongi,” you whine.  He tsks and pulls his finger out.

“That’s not my name right now.” His hands start to slide your panties down and your stomach leaps with excitement.

“Sir, please.”

“Now you want to be my good girl?” He asks with a chuckle. “Where’s my mouthy little brat who wants my cock to shut her up?”

He leans back on his heels and watches you eye him. You’re nearly bursting at the seams. You’re naked while he remains completely clothed and while you’d normally feel exposed and vulnerable, all you feel is white hot heat. You’re burning for Yoongi, for him to do what you’ve dreamt he could do.

“Why don’t you show me what that sweet mouth can do?”  

He maneuvers to stand at the side of the bed, dick straining against the mesh of his shorts. He waits for you to sit up, which you wordlessly obey.  His cock is now eye level with you, and your mouth feels dry. You’ve dreamt about this dick, about what it looks like and how it would feel in your hand, inside you. The fact that you’re here now, about to find out all your secret fantasies is heady.

Your hand rubs at the straining material, over the thickness of his cock. He feels big, and you give it a squeeze which makes him hiss.

“Still being a tease,” he sighs with faux disappointment. “You’re in a precarious position to be such a little cocktease.  Might need to fuck that right out of you.”

It makes you whimper—his direct threats sounding like smooth promises going straight to your core.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Yoongi growls and grabs a bit of your hair, tugging your head back to look at him in the eyes.

“I think you should shut this fucking mouth up.”  His voice is dark, and his eyes glow with lust.

A grin pulls over your face as you gaze sweetly up at him—his hand still gripped tight in your hair.

“Make me.”

Yoongi is silent for a moment as he stares at you in wonder—his beautiful girl, so rebellious and yet so willing to comply.

“I fucking love you, you little fucking slut.”

Yoongi forces his shorts down and grips your chin, holding it hard in his hand.

“Now choke on my fucking cock.”

You open your mouth complacently and he wastes no time in shoving his entire length down your throat mercilessly.  

It’s hot. It feels like fucking heaven.  Your lips wrap around him and suction and he can feel your gag reflex straining against his tip at the back of your throat.  Yoongi thinks his entire spine is tingling with desire for you and the way you take his cock so well has his toes curling.

You didn’t even get to have a good look at Yoongi’s cock before it was shoved into your throat, but now that it’s there you don’t even need to see it to knows he is fucking thick and long. It stretches your mouth and you know your pussy will be taken to its limit when he finally buries himself inside you where he rightfully belongs.

“Can’t talk back now, can you?” He teases as he begins to fuck your throat. “Mmmm shit—, you suck my cock so fucking good.”

His words are nothing but encouragement for you and you fight back the growing discomfort in your throat and allow him to use it as he pleases.  Tears form in your eyes and slip down your face at the exertion and you soon feel his balls slap at your chin.  You’ve only fantasized of being used like this by Yoongi, and now it’s actually fucking happening.  You’ll be damned if you don’t give him the suck of a lifetime.

Yoongi thinks he’s staring into heaven as he fucks your tight mouth and watches as your eyes fill with tears.  They leak out and he knows you’re loving this just as much as he is by the palpable enthusiasm you accept his cock with.

“Look at my little brat,” he coos mockingly. “Not so big and brave now, are you?  Not with daddy’s cock wrecking your hot mouth.”

He picks up the pace and the sounds turn disgustingly lewd.  It’s a wet, slurping sound as Yoongi forces his cock in and out of your drooling mouth.  Saliva drips onto the bed below you as you take him all, never given a chance to breathe or swallow.  Yoongi takes and you selflessly give. You’d allow the man to split you in half—and you’re actively hoping he does just that tonight.

Suddenly, Yoongi is pulling out of your mouth and leaving you panting and keening for more. He grips his cock with a fist.  He strokes himself roughly and looks down at you.

“Gonna cum, baby girl. Fucking beg for it.”

Your hands grip at his thighs and you’re breathing hard to catch up on the oxygen you were denied.  But it doesn’t stop you from doing exactly as he orders.

“Please, daddy. Please cum on my face.  Let me taste your cum, I want to know what you taste like.  Cum on me.  Mark me, daddy.”

Yoongi whines and increases the speed of his pumps. His mouth falls open as he watches you pout so sweetly and wait so eagerly for his seed on your face. He wants to see your entire body covered in his cum and he plans on ensuring that happens sooner rather than later.

“My eager little bitch. Wants her daddy to mark his territory.”

You nod, tongue sticking out and wagging like a dog for his cum.

“Please, daddy.  Make me messy.”

It seems to be the secret password to Yoongi’s climax. Your desperation, your eager position, the way you beg so sweetly.  It sends him right over the edge and he cries out as his cock pulses white stripes over your pretty face.  

He wishes he could take a picture of the way his cum covers your face.  He’d make it his background photo so he could see it every day, show everyone around him the gorgeous little whore he gets to cum on every night.

“Shit, babygirl,” he groans as he attempts to catch his breath.  “Look at you.”

You smile as your tongue retreats into your mouth and you savor the drops that landed on your tongue.  Your eyes close in bliss as you enjoy the flavor, noting it tastes salty and sweet and you can’t wait to reacquaint yourself with the taste over and over again.

“Lay back,” he orders as he pushes his shorts all the way off.  

In his haste to fuck your throat, he only pushed them halfway.  He slips out of them and pulls his shirt off before he joins you on the bed.

“Let me drink this cunt.”

You whimper in agreement as you press your back in to the pillows and spread open your legs.

“Please, daddy.”

He grins as he lowers himself to lie between your legs.  He blows on it, cool air pushing over your folds chilling you.

“Fuck,” he sighs.  “Greedy little cunt wants it all, hm?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“So compliant for me now,” he whispers as he kisses your thighs. “I like it when you behave.”

He kisses in further, and soon he’s using his fingers to spread apart the folds and pressing the flat of his tongue to your clit and laving it over the aching nub.

“Holy shit,” he groans as he comes up and sucks his tongue back into his mouth.  “Sweetest little pussy.”

You can’t reply, the capability to speak has left you now.  He buries his face back into your cunt and gets to work.  His tongue starts flicking against the bundle of nerves and then dips down to fuck into your channel.  He works his tongue around you and your back arches off the bed and your heels dig into the mattress.  You seek purchase in his hair with your hands, digits gripping at the blonde locks between your thighs.  

Yoongi groans and moans into your cunt, and soon he slips two fingers in to fuck you roughly.

He pulls his lips away and licks his tongue over them to collect the slick that lingers.  His fingers maintain a quick pace and he drinks in the sight of you gasping at the stretch.

“Yeah, look at you take my fucking fingers.  Such a wanton little whore for me.”

He slides another finger in to join, then another, and it makes your cries echo loudly around the room.  He suddenly remembers the neighbors above you and smirks.  He pulls his hands from you, making you keen with desire and desperately beg for more.

“Daddy! Please, I need..” you gasp. “Need you!”

He pulls himself up to join your hips together and rolls his them against each other.  His cock rubs against your soaked pussy and he bites his lip at the feel of it getting slicked up.

“I want you to be nice and loud for me, baby girl,” he demands sweetly in your ear as he licks the shell.  He notes your shiver and smirks, before kissing your ear lightly.  “Tell those mother fuckers upstairs who’s going to take you to Hong Kong.”

“Yes, daddy,” you agree.  

It only takes the consent to leave your lips for Yoongi to spear his cock into you.  He’s not slow or gentle, he pushes it into the hilt immediately.

Yoongi meant to start a pace, to begin fucking into you mercilessly, but he’s frozen inside your tight heat.  You feel so good, so fucking tight and warm and wet for him.  It’s better than heaven, and surely better than any pussy he’s been inside before.  Maybe it’s because it’s you, and no one else.

“Fuck!” He gasps. “Holy shit I could cum right now.”

You whine and move your hips desperately.

“Fuck me daddy! Fuck me hard, please!  Use me like your little cock sleeve.”

Yoongi bites his lip and feels his cock pulse.

“Shit, you’ve got a dirty fucking mouth,” he grits. “Let’s see if you’ve got a dirty little pussy too.”

He sets a pace, desperately wills his cock not to cum yet.  He wants to fuck you senseless, until your eyes roll back in your head.  He’s gonna make sure you get off on his cock before he comes close to his end.

Yoongi grips your chin again, like he did at the beginning as he fucks into you roughly.

“Look at you take my fucking cock so deep,” he bites out.  “Your cunt is so fucking desperate for my fat cock, isn’t it? You need me to fuck some discipline into you.”

You’re nearly screaming now at the force of his thrusts.  He’s pushing all the way into you with each push and his balls smack against your ass deliciously.  You’re babbling, words unable to make sense as he fucks all the brain cells out of you.

“Dumb little cock slut,” he whispers as he leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth and bite at it before releasing it  “Little brat turns into a perfect little fuck hole for me, so fucking good for me.”

“Yes, y-y-yes baby! S-so close!”  

Yoongi’s had you near the verge since his oral, and now with his punishing pace and power in his driving hips, you’re hovering over the edge.

His hand drops down to rub at your clit, a circular motion that has you gasping and screaming his name.

“That’s fucking right,” he breathes. “Tell them, baby.  Tell them who’s got the best fucking cock.  Tell them who fills this pussy up so well.”

You’re eager to comply.

“You, daddy!  Fuck!  You feel so fucking thick in me.  I need your cum, please, please.  Cum on me.”

Yoongi feels his balls tighten impossibly--he knows he’s seconds away from an explosive orgasm.

“Cum on my cock, baby girl.  Let me feel you cream my fucking cock.  Wanna see you all over this fat dick.”

His free hand tugs at a nipple and pulls it punishingly, tugging it so far it pulls the skin around it.  Your screams light up the room, echoing and bouncing off the walls and surely traveling up to your neighbors bedroom.

“Yoongi! Fuck! I’m cumming!” You warn, a millisecond before your world crashes around you.  

Your cunt squeezes his cock so tightly that it causes his hips to stutter in their pace.  It grips him tight, angry like a squeezed fist and Yoongi feels the air get sucked out of his lungs as his climax follows directly after yours.  He didn’t even have a chance to pull out--he’s emptying his load into your womb and whining at the feeling of your pulsating walls milking every single drop greedily.

It’s several minutes later that you’re both caught up to normal breathing and resting beside each other on the bed.  The room is silent, save for little pants and breaths, and Yoongi reaches over to lace his fingers into yours and hold your hand tightly.

“You wanna date me?” He asks sweetly, as if his cum isn’t dripping out of your cunt as he speaks.  

It makes you laugh.  It’s so classically Yoongi that you can’t help but to laugh.  

“Yes, daddy, I want to date you.  I want to date you every single day.”

He pulls you into his embrace and kisses at your forehead.

“Maybe we should send your neighbors some flowers for getting us together,” he teases.

As if on cue, the all too familiar sound of skin slapping against skin and screeching moans comes from upstairs and plays through your apartment like an unwanted jukebox.

“God damn it, our plan backfired.” he grumbles. “I think we turned them on.”

You press your sticky, sweaty body against him and kiss at his lips.  Your hand sneaks down to his cock and grips it again, begging it to come back to life.

“Shall we try again, then?”

[goosedawn]

//Oh gods, welp, here I go [cracks knuckles]

//Tiny farmer Techno Au,,,, prepare for some future lore cjkhcxk

Timestamps from: "I Became the Mayor of Skyblock" by Technoblade

--

(5:39) "I decided to call in an old rival..." - Technoblade

Techno continues on with his life for days on, but finally, he somehow finds his way to society again, seeing that the entire town has been taken over by a tyrant of a mayor. The townspeople called for aid, and from the depths of his cold heart, he decided to help (....what do you mean he only did it so people would buy his potatoes-).

For a bit, he did his work by himself, only getting help from some other living scarecrows (listen, I really like the idea of some scarecrows coming alive [cough] PHIL [cough]), TimeDeo and Jyn (...? Is that how you spell their name?). (Dunno what the process for taking over the mayor would be exactly but,,, chchskdlcx,,,)

But you can only do so much work with... living scarecrows. With a bit of reluctance, he calls for help from SquidKid. And then together they defeat Dante :]

(Also, it's funny to think that the town has a mayor that they've never seen. All they know is that the previous mayor is gone, and the new one is pretty chill. /Lh)

--

(6:31) "Is there any way to do the teleport room without just like.. guessing?" - SquidKid

(6:36) "You are like... little baby, watch this." - Technoblade

-

Being tiny has its perks.

"Wait, what do you mean you can solve this maze in an hour or less?"

Techno turned towards the bigger hybrid, crossing his arms as he nonchalantly stared up at them. SquidKid only gives him a baffled look back, their tentacle-like hair slightly sprung up to further show their confusion.

He knows this only because he's known the man for far longer than they've known him.

He knows more personal information than should be shared, somehow finding the other farmer's parent's numbers along with a few other things. He had jokingly pocketed away the parent's number in the back of his mind, although, he had no real plans of ever using it. Well, maybe he had played with the idea of calling SquidKid's parents to dunk on the fact that a wild borrower had been winning their competition, but he ultimately decided not to for obvious reasons.

He knows the hybrid's schedule like the back of his hand, having to work around it for the better part of an entire year. Using that knowledge, he had sabotaged countless of SquidKid's tools, poking small, unnoticeable holes into their hoses and irrigation systems.

And he knows SquidKid's behavior from how they speak to how they express any sort of emotion. Lies were easily debunked from the small twitch of the corner of their mouth as they suppressed a smile, and anger was easily shown from how their strange hair pieces would spike up.

Yet, he can't help but feel slightly at unease in front of them. He supposes it's only natural, seeing that there's a huge height difference between them. Plus, this was practically the first time they've been closer than two fields of length in between them. Well, disregarding the times he's gone snooping around the bigger farmer's place, but that's neither here nor there.

"Squid, look at me," he raises his hand, gesturing towards himself, "I'm tiny, yes?" the squid hybrid nodded slowly, and he pointed at the stalks of tall fern and crop, "to you, this would basically be a wall you can't get through. For me, though...."

He jumped off his perch, tightly holding his trusty bag and sliding towards the flora before easily disappearing behind the thicket and appearing moments later at eye level, holding the stalk of the crops easily,

"It's easy to go through."

SquidKid makes a quiet 'oh' sound with another nod of their head, looking slightly in awe. The amazed look turns to one of confusion again, though, and he awaited their next question with a raised eyebrow, "but... the maze is big, how are you going to get through it all without tiring?"

Techno grinned, lifting a hand to his mouth and loudly whistling. He doesn't hesitate to slide back to the floor as a blur of white fur bounds towards him.

"Carl!" he exclaims, wrapping his hands around the rabbit's fluffy neck and combing through the fur with his fingers. He backs away to pull out a broken-off piece of a carrot, feeding it to the eager bunny before turning towards the astonished squid hybrid with a grin, "my noble steed," he waves a hand towards the still feeding rabbit.

"You tamed a rabbit," they dumbly point out, having to metaphorically pick up their jaw off of the floor.

"Yup, I did. you can stop gawking now," he huffed, "you're going to catch a bug with your mouth if you keep your mouth wide open."

"...And you named it Carl?"

"What kind of question is that?" he snorts, shaking his head, "yes, I named him Carl, and yes he's going to be the one helping me through the maze. Any other silly questions?"

The man stumbles over their words for a second, and he amusedly watches from below, "I- yeah, yeah, you bozo," they finally settle on saying.

"Alright, cool, I'm going to go find the exit now," he turns away from the hybrid, climbing on the back of the rabbit's back, "see you there."

He doesn't give SquidKid the chance to respond, already setting off through the thicket. And he sure doesn't suppress the grin that crawls up his face as Carl bounds past stalks and stalks of crops.

Having distracted SquidKid enough to get away, the bigger farmer had barely thought to ask how they themselves would traverse the maze.

They must have realized soon enough, though, since not seconds later, he hears a strangled yell of his name along with a loud groan.

--

Pain, it's been too long since I've written something /Lh

--

"(Also, it's funny to think that the town has a mayor that they've never seen. All they know is that the previous mayor is gone, and the new one is pretty chill. /Lh)"

When the townspeople come to greet the new mayor, they come thinking that it's SquidKid who's done everything since it's always been SquidKid going into town and doing the talking- the scarecrows being unable to do so for obvious reasons, and Techno unable to do so without revealing his entire existence.

So when the sheepish farmer calmly explains that he's just a helper of the mayor, they're... rightfully confused. At first, they want to know the real identity of the mayor, but SquidKid wearily tries explaining that said mayor really doesn't want to be revealed. They only conceded when he shakily points to the unknown farmer's territory, most of them getting the message.

Techno is very thankful that SquidKid doesn't take his title and also doesn't reveal his existence.

-

"It would have been so easy for the squid hybrid to just pluck his tiny form from their back pocket and shove the wrathful spotlight onto him.

He wasn't even able to even escape now as he found himself stuck in the hybrid's pocket. The crowd had come quickly after SquidKid had removed the other mayor for him, and he remembered feeling panicked as he stared at the other hybrid. The next thing he knew, he was shoved into their pocket.

He couldn't get out without tumbling to the ground with a splat, and, even worse, the possibility of one of the townspeople pointing him out with gossip-drinking eyes was incredibly high too.

He shakily gulped, greedily taking the air around him as he tried to stay calm. He never liked being near anyone- not even the scarecrows - so the second-hand contact with his past rival was not the finest experience.

"I- uhm," the squid hybrid stumbled over their words, "t-the mayor really would rather not... have the entire town to greet them.."

The crowd hushedly mumbled to each other, and one straggler called out, "well, tell them to come out anyway!"

By the Blood God, he hated this. He shrunk to the bottom of the pocket. This was one of the worst worries for a borrower; he had already been pushing his limit with the scarecrows and SquidKid, but this was another level for him.

"...Uh, well, in that case," he felt SquidKid shift, and a hand brushed over his pocket. He tenses, waiting for the fingers to tug him out and waiting for SquidKid to finally prove that they're not as kind as they look, for them to finally get some semblance of petty revenge.

"You can find them over there." He pauses, confused to as why there's no hand reaching down for him. The words finally dawn on him, and he's both relieved and perplexed to what SquidKid could have meant by that.

But hatever they've done has made the crowd fall unnaturally silent, and so he's at least a little relieved for that too.

The same voice that was brave enough to speak before pipes up, "you mean the ghost farmer?"

....He didn't know that the townspeople had come up with a name for him, but he's suddenly thankful that he's gained enough popularity that people stop and gawk.

"Y...Yes," SquidKid slowly acknowledges the villager, "they were the one orchestrating all of this. I was just helping with the... talking parts," the hybrid is silent for a moment before they burst into a stammering mess,

"And- uh, I-I should take my leave now, b-because I should really h-head back and ch-check up on them," he feels the bigger farmer start to take a few steps back, supposedly away from the crowd, "I'll answer any questions later!"

He has to push against the fabric to keep himself from bouncing around in the pocket as SquidKid starts running. He faintly hears the townspeople shout for the male, but it's muffled through the fabric.

As it starts to seem as if the squid hybrid would never stop running, they finally start to slow down, their breaths coming out labored and airy.

He doesn't speak up for a moment, letting the other regain themselves first. When they finally seem well enough, he speaks up,

"That's the best you can come up with?"

--

chKFCHKDSJFSDF oh my Primes, this is so LONG,,,, I have no idea how to write SquidKid,,,, plus, I had no idea how to like,,, oOGHgds,f,, pain.

Anyways, hope you had fun reading ALL of this cchjxcvxkdsf,,,

AAUBHJDUHFJHBFNDKUFHN WENDYYY /POS

i dont have anything to add this is just fantastic,,,,, DEO AND JIYN AS SCARECROWS AS WELL,,, FBJHDKUHSJHHDV,,,,,, i love that techno gets to have Carl still 🥺🥺🥺 and him leaving squidkid on the other side of the maze??? FHJBDJNJKBF

ALSO 🥺 squid protecting techno and not telling people abt him,,,,, aaajfhkdojfh good,, i also appreciate that everyone in the village just has to be like. "the ghost farmer is mayor????... well this isnt the weirdest thing thats happened to me"

SQUIDKID RUNNING AWAY,,,, "ill answer any questions later" djhshhjhjhbhbfhdjhbe

*holds this gently* aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i adore

[bestruction]

Getting high with them for the first time

N/A: If you do drugs do it safely

My masterlist

- Eren Jaeger

He's not the type of guy who pressured you to use, let alone say you're immature or coward for it. When you decide to try it, it's genuinely your idea, and who better than your boyfriend to teach?

That's how you end up in his room, with the door and windows lock to make sure the smell doesn't catch his parent's attention. You sat on the carpet while he carefully rolls the joint so that the cigarette holder doesn't fall.

“Tighten your lips like this and take a deep breath through your mouth” He took a short drag before releasing the smoke “But not too long since this is your first time your throat is not used to the smoke”

You nod and accept the cigarette doing as he said. You feel the smoke warm your mouth, watch it hoover before your eyes after blowing and wait for...Nothing. No different sensation, no tingling, literally nothing.

"I don't think it worked"

“It is not like a switch. Wait a minute, babe ”

You talk a little about the day-to-day of the two and then go to play something new that he had bought. After a few games and a few more huffs, you still don't feel any difference or anything. You even try to hold the smoke in your mouth for a longer time, which results in you coughing incessantly and Eren laughing in your face. Hearing him laugh has always been one of your favorite things. The way he bends his body and laughs out loud without shame until he blushes always makes you laugh together with him, like now.

You laugh, laugh until your body asks for air and needs to alternate between laughter and breathing. You feel calm, relax as if you had lifted a weight off your shoulders. You lay on the carpet feeling the softness of the fabric against your skin ... Was it always that soft? So silky? So comfortable? You close your eyes and rub your hand over the texture, and then the smell of Eren's citric perfume invades your nose. When you opened your eyes, jade eyes were watching you closely.

"I think it has taken effect now, huh?" He says stroking your hair. "Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?" He asks, getting on top of you.

"A few times"

“Then I’m going to tell you again: you’re beautiful” he kisses your lips “So damn beautiful” He kisses your chin “Every single part of you” And now your jaw.

You two spent the afternoon making out on the floor and praising each other. Not because you were high, I mean, not only, but because being so sensitive brought it even more evident how much you wanted each other.

- Levi Ackerman

You had a horrible week. It seemed that everything that could go wrong over the course of seven days had made a point of happening even worse than you imagined. When you got home even after taking a long hot shower and lying in bed, you're unable to relax.

"If you keep turning from side to side, I won't sleep either" Murmured Levi.

"I know. Sorry"

"I'm not complaining. Come here" He pulls you to lie on his chest "Better?"

"A little bit"

"Just a little bit?" He smiles softly "You can try what I do when I get like this"

"Do you mean the mushrooms?"

"If you want to"

You two get out of bed and go to the kitchen. He takes a clear plastic bag from the fridge and places it in front of you. Levi is not the type of guy who gets high all the time. It's more like an escape for when his stress is too high, like yours. He already used it when you met him, and even if you didn't, you never saw a problem with it.

"Just it?"

"I can make tea if you prefer"

"Why don't you use weed like everyone else?"

"Too much work. To roll, check for purity. With mushrooms, I just need to buy and chew them ”

"Well, bon appetit"

You two eat the frozen mushrooms. The taste is not so bad, but it is not a good thing and the smell reminds you of something that had been removed from the forest, which makes sense. Levi suggests that you lie down on the sofa in the living room to watch a movie. There was no need to worry about tomorrow as it would be a day off for both of you.

Lying on Levi's lap and watching the TV, the colors start to shine before your eyes. You didn't remember the white wall looking so vivid, or the pixels on the TV seeming to slow down when you focused on a specific point. It was your house, but it didn't look real. You felt inside a peaceful dream, and inside that dream, you fell asleep forgetting about your nightmare week.

- Armin Arlert

It's your idea. It's Mikasa's birthday party, and Connie had taken some ecstasy pills from whoever wants to use them. So you take two, drag your boyfriend to the bathroom and lock the door.

"You don't have to do it with me if you don't want to, Armin"

"I'm curious too," He says, staring at the little pink pills on your hand.

Armin swallows one, and you do the same after him.

Armin swallows one, and you do the same after him. You want the experience to be as safe as possible. Then both sit in the bathtub and wait for the effect while talking. About half an hour later, you notice how dilated are the pupils of the blond in front of you. Your hearing is a little muffled, and you feel happy and light for no apparent reason. A slight tingle comes and goes through your body, like a wave spreading that sensation across your skin.

You go over to Armin and sit on his lap. He smiles at you, and more than ever, you want to kiss him until you're out of breath, and he's not different from you.

Armin takes your hand between his and brings it to his mouth. He spreads small, short kisses on your hand. You focus on the feeling of his lips running over your skin. You are so damn sensitive even his breathing makes you shiver.

As if a magnetic force pulls you both, you two kiss, letting that soft cloud of pleasure envelop you both. When Armin presses you against his body, deepening the kiss and tasting your mouth, you want to break the laws of physics and be able to occupy the same place as him. You want to become one with him.

And the two of you may not be able to do it, but you certainly tried A LOT in that bathroom.

- Jean Kirstein

Jean is handsome, tall, friendly, and intelligent. So when he starts to be invited to every possible party in college, you’re not surprised. You two have been dating since high school, and you don't feel jealous if he goes to parties alone but he always finds a way to convince you to accompany him with some excuse. Like,  that it would be a lot more fun if you're next to him.

Today, this is one of those times when he convinces you. It's not that you don't like parties kind of, but a party full of strangers doesn't seem like the most attractive thing to you. Then after dancing and talking to people for a long time, he drags you to one of the rooms in the house to give you a well-deserved break.

"Thank you for coming with me," He said, hugging you from behind after closing the door.

"I'm going to want some compensation for that, Kirstein," You said, sitting down in an armchair that was there.

"How about ... That" Jean takes a bag with two white pills out of his pocket and tosses it towards you.

"What is it?"

"LSD"

"What kind of people have you been involved with?" You joke “If your mom knew what you've been up to, Jeanboo”

"Shut up" He sat next to her "If you want to try, I try"

It wouldn't be his first time getting high, he used to smoke weed with Eren in the basement since high school, but it would be yours. As I said, Jean is smart. You knew he had been wanting to try acid for some time. So of course, he had researched on.

Honestly? You are curious but afraid after so many speeches “don’t do drugs, kids”. Jean would never propose anything that could endanger the two of you, which is exactly why he only suggested it when you were alone, and if you said "no" it would be like it never happened.

"Is it just swallowing?"

"Put it under your tongue and let it dissolve"

You lie down on the floor and take it at the same time. It tastes bitter, but unlike any medicine, you've taken in your life.

It takes some time for it to start taking effect, but when it finally did you know. The sound of loud music, muffled by the walls of the room seems to be inside your head now. The colors tremble in front of you, mixing, moving, becoming more intense. You raise your hand towards the ceiling, and you don't feel like that's your hand. Everything seems surreal. You feel calm but active. It's like being very drunk, but the other way around.

Jean pulls you into his chest, and you can hear his heart pumping blood at full speed, like yours. You feel your throat dry, your body sweat, and your hands get cold.

If I could define that feeling with a word, it would definitely be intense.

You spent the night like that. Watching the furniture move and change shape, lying on the floor and without detaching from each other. At some point, you ended up sleeping, and after having the weirdest dream of your life, you woke up with Jean calling you carefully. The sun had already risen, and the house was silent, indicating that the party was over a long time ago.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, helping you to stand.

“Hungry and hungover”

He mumbles something about also being, and you go out to eat at the nearest cafeteria.

[cuddlepilefics]

Ginger Ale and Crackers

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Felix

Caregiver: Chan & Changbin

Prompt; @sicktember

No one's POV.:

About halfway through their afternoon dance practice, Felix' stomach had started to give him hard time. All the jumps they had been practicing had left his stomach unsettled. He had felt hesitant to drink anything during their breaks, afraid the next jump or turn would send it right back up his throat. That hadn't happened but Felix had admittedly barely had any water during the afternoon, so it wasn't much of a surprise that by the end of their practice, his head felt swimmy while also pounding painfully. With how much he had been sweating, he clearly had to be dehydrated, yet he was still unsure whether he should have a drink. They were done with practice, so there wouldn't be any more jumps but the thought of swallowing alone almost made him gag. Felix himself had no idea why he was suddenly feeling so bad. He had been fine this morning and hadn't eaten anything weird since then. Maybe he had just overdone it with his dancing, going all out, but that was what he usually did, yet he never felt like this after dancing. Looking at his water bottle with an almost disgusted expression, the Aussie shoved it into his bag and waited for his members to pack up, so that they could head home. He was exhausted, almost too exhausted to take a shower but he knew he'd be uncomfortable all night if he didn't.

Not daring to eat dinner for the fear of upsetting his stomach more, Felix crawled into bed right after taking a shower. He had been plagued with cramps the entire time he was in the shower and had barely managed to stand up straight, wanting to curl up into a tiny ball right there. When Chan came into their shared room to get the younger for dinner, he found the boy deeply asleep, hugging his pillow to his middle. Not having the heart to wake his dongsaeng, the leader left and quietly closed the door behind him. He made sure to save Felix some food in case he woke up hungry before telling the rest of the members to keep it down a bit. The next one to check on Felix was his other roommate Changbin. After dinner he went to their shared room to collect his headphones, finding the Aussie tangled in his sheets, groaning quietly. It worried him a bit, knowing how hard the younger had been working lately. Seeing him this exhausted was just heartbreaking for the rapper. He too decided not to disturb his dongsaeng, hoping he would get as much rest as somehow possible. It felt wrong to see their energetic sunshine like this.

Felix had stayed asleep the entire time, no matter how loud the rest of the members in the living room were. He didn't even hear his roommates come and get ready for bed. All he knew was that by the time he woke up again, both of them were sleeping peacefully in their beds. Unlike Felix, who had woken up in cold sweat. His breath got caught in his throat when he was hit with another cramp, the pain unexpectedly intense. Whimpering quietly, he felt his stomach turn, now more than certain that he was going to be sick. Felix heart sped up, knowing he had to get to the bathroom fast but afraid he'd be sick immediately if he as much as moved a single muscle. With adrenaline rushing through his veins, he rolled out of bed, hand clamped tightly over his mouth as he stumbled to the door. Throwing it open, he staggered down the hallway, dizzily crashing into the wall next to him. As he fought to get his footing, his stomach cramped, sending a gush of his lunch up. Feeling the warm mush spill through his fingers, the Aussie's eyes stung with tears. He tried to avoid the puddle as he dragged himself to the bathroom, collapsing to his knees in front of the toilet, instantly throwing up more.

Chan awoke with a start to their door slamming against the wall. Shooting up in his bed, he found Changbin awake as well, looking at the older with a horrified expression. Only a few seconds later, they heard a muffled cough followed by a splattering noise. Cursing, Chan got out of bed and hurried down the hallway, only barely avoiding the puddle of sick. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, light streaming through the crack. Hearing faint cries behind the door, the leader rushed to find Felix draped over the toilet, head buried in the toilet bowl. The dancer startled when he felt his hyung's hand on his back. "Ssh, you're okay", Chan promised, rubbing his back. Felix wanted to laugh at him, telling him that he was very much not okay, but before he was able to get a single word out, his stomach lurched again, a large wave of his lunch splashing into the bowl. Changbin had followed them not long after, frowning when he saw the position his friends were in. Felix' chest was hitching with quiet sobs, which certainly didn't help his stomach settle. Retching again, the dancer reached behind him and took a hold of Chan's had. He clutched onto it tightly as he kept throwing up. When he finally got a chance to breathe, he rasped: "Can you turn off the light? It's too bright." Changbin was quick to comply while Chan continued to rub his dongsaeng's back. "Do you have a migraine?", he asked carefully, afraid his voice would hurt the other more. Felix shook his head, gagging weakly before he was able to reply: "My stomach's been bothering me since dance practice."

Sighing, Chan brushed his hand against Felix' neck. "You're running a fever too. Is that new or did it start along with your stomach", he hummed worriedly. Giving a strained cough, the dancer groaned: "I don't know? I just knew that my stomach felt bad, so I wanted to sleep it off. Oh god, please make it stop." Before Chan could say anything, Felix had ducked his head into the bowl again, retching painfully. While the leader tried his best to comfort the younger, Changbin went over to the sink and ran a washcloth under cool water before draping it across the dancer's neck. They could barely see anything as the only light source was the hallway light streaming through the cracked door but they didn't have to see much, the short glance they had gotten earlier had been enough to see how ghostly pale their dongsaeng was. Felix seemed to be done for now and tiredly rested his head on his arms. He just wanted to go back to sleep. That was when he remembered the mess he had made on his way. "Ugh, I -I got sick in the hallway too", he whimpered, raising his head to look at his hand. Looking at the bits of his lunch still stuck to his hand only triggered another gag. When Felix was done, the tears wouldn't stop falling, his fever messing with his emotions. Handing him a wad of toilet paper to clean his hand with, Changbin whispered: "I'll clean that up... don't move."

While the rapper fetched the cleaning supplies and took care of the mess in the hallway, Chan stayed with Felix, helping him up from the floor, so he could wash his hands properly and handing him some mouthwash to get rid of the vile taste. As they made their way back to their room, Felix shakily clung to the leader's arm, his head spinning. "You're okay, almost there", the older promised, when Felix' legs suddenly gave out. Catching him around the waist, Chan picked him up bridal style and carried him the last few meters to his bed. The sheets were a mess and it took the oldest a while to detangle them, so he could tuck his dongsaeng in. Placing a bottle of water on the nightstand and pulling the trashcan out from under the desk, Changbin hummed: "Here's the trashcan if you need it. Try having some water when you feel ready, we don't want you to get dehydrated." – "Thanks", the younger rasped quietly, eyes already fluttering shut. Falling asleep however wasn't as easy. His stomach was still in knots, rumbling loudly. "Was your stomach making all that noise?", Changbin frowned, sitting down on the edge of the mattress, sliding his hand under Felix' shirt. The dancer hummed in confirmation, relaxing as the older stroked his stomach in soothing circles.

By the time Chan had to get up for a meeting with their managers, Felix had been up retching over the trashcan twice. Neither times was he able to bring anything up though, which wasn't surprising, considering he had skipped dinner and had barely had anything to drink. Although he hated to wake his members when they were sleeping, Chan carefully woke Changbin up by shaking his arm. "Hey, could you stay back from the studio today?", he asked quietly, afraid to leave Felix at the dorm by himself, "I'll tell the others to just go to their schedules as usual and come check on you two as soon as the meeting's over." – "No problem, I couldn't focus anyway, knowing he'd be sick and alone. I got him, hyung, don't stress too much", Changbin whispered, waving the older goodbye before going back to sleep.

The rapper woke up again hours later to a weight on his chest. Yawning, he tried to sit up, only to find himself pinned down. "Sorry, I was cold", Felix mumbled lowly. He had woken up not too long ago, his stomach still hurting but not as nauseous as he had been before. Instead, he was shaking with chills. Bringing his hand up to the Aussie's forehead, Changbin hummed: "Your fever's up. Did you try to drink anything yet?" The dancer shook his head not even opening his eyes. He really didn't want to be sick again, so he wasn't willing to risk it. "You're getting dehydrated, Lixxie. Isn't your head hurting?", he frowned, running his hand through his dongsaeng's hair. "It is", Felix admitted quietly, "But so are my stomach and throat. I'm fine as long as we just stay like this." Sighing, Changbin decided that they could stay like that for a little while longer before he'd try to get the younger to drink something again.

It was already close to lunchtime when Changbin decided he wouldn't let Felix go without having at least some water. Luckily, the Aussie was awake, merely resting with his eyes closed, because the rapper didn't think he could wake the boy. "Come on, Lix", he whispered, "At least have a few sips and if you let me get up, I can go and see if we have any medicine. Just not consuming anything isn't going to help. It'll only make you worse." – "Hyung", the dancer whined, holding onto Changbin's shirt, "Please, no." Though Felix had his hyung wrapped around his little finger, the older knew better than to give in. He wouldn't let his dongsaeng get worse. If Felix wasn't getting up, he would have to get the Aussie off of himself. Carefully shifting to the side, Changbin managed to slip out underneath the younger and gently removed his hands from his shirt. "Sorry", the older cooed, pulling the blanket up to Felix' shoulders and leaving the room.

Rummaging through the bathroom cabinet, Changbin found some anti-emetics and made his way to the kitchen. He knew Felix didn't want anything but after skipping dinner and throwing up, the dancer needed something in his system. Guessing that plain rice would be the safest option, Changbin grabbed a small bowl and took it back to their room. Felix' water bottle was still untouched on the nightstand. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he ran his hand up and down his dongsaeng's back. "Can you sit up for me, Lix?", he hummed, peeling the blanket back. The Aussie let out a discontent whine but propped himself up on one arm. "Can you try and have a few bites of rice and some water for me? I also found you medicine", the rapper tried. Shaking his head, Felix insisted: "No, medicine yes but the rest no." – "How are you going to get the medicine down without water?", Changbin quizzed, "Come on, sunshine, for me?" The dancer huffed but shuffled around till he sat up against the headboard. Accepting the bowl of rice from his hyung, Felix eyed the food with disgust before forcing himself to take a small bite into his mouth. Slowly chewing, he pulled a face and handed the bowl back. Changbin didn't take it back though, instead giving the younger a stern look. Pouting, Felix forced down two more bites before handing the bowl back to his hyung, who traded it for the water. He also handed the dancer a pill, which he swallowed dry before taking one tiny sip of water. "Lix, I'm pretty sure you're already dehydrated. You did so well, I'm sure you can take another sip", Changbin hummed, earning a glare from the younger. Though he didn't want to, Felix had some more water before handing the bottle back.

His food wasn't settling at all and mere minutes later, Felix sat hugging his churning tummy as his mouth watered. "H-Hyung?!", he choked out, hand clamped over his mouth as his stomach gurgled. Noticing the boy's slightly greenish complexion, Changbin rushed to place the trashcan into his lap. He knew he had been pushing it but he had hoped the medicine would keep him from throwing up again. Sitting down next to the dancer, Changbin gently massaged his shoulders as they waited. With his breathing coming in nauseous little huffs, Felix felt the room spin around him, desperately holding onto the trashcan to steady himself. He could feel his food right at the back of his throat but it wasn't coming. Hesitantly, he gave a little cough, which was all it took for his stomach to send everything up. Though he was pretty sure, everything he had just consumed had come up in one rush, Felix couldn't stop his throat from contracting with unproductive gags. Coughing, he choked out: "I hate you." – "I know you do", Changbin sighed, comfortingly rubbing the younger's back and brushing his sweaty bangs from his forehead. He felt sorry for making the Aussie sick again but if he kept going without keeping down any water, they'd have to take him to hospital.

When Felix finally deemed it safe to remove his head from the trashcan and lean back against the headboard, his forehead was glistening with sweat. His shirt clung to him making him feel even more disgusting than before. Changbin grabbed the trashcan and placed it down on the floor. "Let's take that off, hm?", he asked, gently pulling the dancer's shirt over his head, "Are you still cold? Do you want one of my hoodies as compensation?" Felix nodded tiredly, barely finding the energy to lift his arms, so the older could put it on him. "How about a change of scenery? The others are gone, so you could nap on the couch. We could put on some boring drama in the background", the rapper offered. Nodding, Felix rasped: "Sounds like fun but... Can you carry me? I don't think I can make it there." – "Sure thing", Changbin chuckled, picking the younger up. Placing him down on the couch, he told the dancer to wait there, so he could get a bucket and his water in case the Aussie would let himself be talked into drinking something. After getting everything settled, he lifted Felix' head and placed it on his lap, so he could play with the younger's hair. Exhausted from the whole ordeal, it didn't take long for Felix to drift off again.

While Felix was asleep, Changbin texted Chan about the dancer's condition, emphasizing that he really couldn't keep anything down at all. Now becoming more worried too, the leader stopped by a store to pick up some ginger ale and crackers for his dongsaeng. He hoped those things would settle better, at least he knew that that was what their families had always used in such situations. If it didn't help settle his stomach, it might at least give the younger a sense of home. While walking, Chan already started to shake the bottle of ginger ale, opening it repeatedly to get rid of the fizz. He quietly entered their dorm, not wanting to wake Felix up if he was resting. The sight looked truly pitiful. The dancer laying on the couch with his head in Changbin's lap, face white as a ghost except for a faint feverish blush on his cheekbones. He was wearing one of Changbin's sweaters, arms hugging his middle in his sleep. Chan wordlessly waved at Changbin, not wanting to disturb as he went to the kitchen to pour a glass of ginger ale. He also grabbed a small plate and put a few crackers on it. They looked really lonely but he'd already be happy if he could convince Felix of having a few of them.

Hearing a hushed conversation in the living room, the leader figured Felix had woken up and made his way over to them. "Hey, Binnie told me you're still not doing so well", he whispered with a sympathetic smile. The dancer shook his head and glanced at the things Chan was carrying. Realizing he was most likely supposed to eat that, he couldn't help but grimace already. Crouching next to the couch, Chan rubbed his arm through the hoodie and hushed: "I know you don't feel like eating that but we need to get you back on your feet somehow. You always used to eat those, right? Don't even have to be many crackers." Groaning, Felix sat up and rubbed his face. He knew Chan was only trying to help, Changbin too had meant well but his stomach was till so upset. He didn't think he could stomach anything. "I got all the fizz out of the ginger ale, so hopefully it will settle a better", the oldest mused, glancing at the box of medicine Changbin had left on the table, "Have a cracker and then just try having this medicine again, please?" Scrunching up his nose, Felix nodded and accepted one of the crackers. He took his time, nibbling on it. It didn't feel that bad on his stomach, so he nibbled down another one. The ginger ale really reminded him of home and he gladly took the medicine again. Sitting on the couch, he rested his head on Changbin's shoulder. Every once in a while, he took a small sip until the glass was empty and he laid back down to let the older lure him back to sleep.

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 3

Bakugo x Reader

Words: 4892

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with 'this' is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

***********************************************************************

Dabi had laid you down gently in the back seat of his car, taking off his jacket to lay over you. You wanted to fall asleep you really did. But the consistent pain coming from your hip was enough to keep you awake, but not enough for you to pass out. You hugged the jacket around you that smelled like smoke and coffee.

You don’t know much time passed but eventually you were being pulled from the backseat. He picked you up bridal style and made his way to the house, “Look at you. We’re not even married, and you already have me carrying you over the threshold.”

When you didn’t react to his little joke he sighed, “Wow tough crowd, okay.”

He walked straight to the couch and put you down before immediately jogging to the kitchen to grab some first aid supplies… amongst other things.

He came back and sat on the table that was in front on the couch and maneuvered you so your injured hip was accessible to him. “Okay this is going to sting for a little bit, but I’m going to need you to stay still until I’m done.” Without any more warning then that he poured what smelled like vodka on the wound.

It stung like a bitch, causing you to dig your nails into the cushion of the couch and grit your teeth so hard you were surprised they didn’t crack.

He started to wipe it down with some kind of cloth. Cleaning all the dried blood and sweat from you. You were practically panting now trying to breathe through the sharp pain. “That’s it. Keep breathing. Good girl. I’m almost done.” He taped a bandage over it before pulling your hoodie back down. “There. Good as new.”

He helped you sit up a little so he could give you a glass of water, which you were incredibly thankful for. “Alright… so I have all the good stuff. Anything you could want really.” He pulled out several bottles of pills.

You didn’t know what was in those bottles, but you knew you didn’t want any. You’ve had enough drugged out days to last a lifetime. So as much as you knew it’d help with the pain, you didn’t want it. You just met Dabi less than twelve hours ago. You didn’t know what kind of bullshit he’d pull once you went under.

You shook your head no and pointed to the bottle of vodka. You may not want pills, but a shot wouldn’t kill you.

He chuckled, “Okay tough guy. Whatever you say.” He walked back to the kitchen and returned with two of the biggest shot glasses you had ever seen. “Let’s get this party started huh?” He poured two shots and handed one to you. “To life off the grid.”

You both threw your shots back. He with no reaction, you however immediately started coughing.

His hand rubbed a circle on your back, “Look at you. Took it like a champ. Didn’t even need a chaser.” He poured another shot for himself and brought it up to his lips but stopped when he saw you looking at him. “What? You didn’t think I’d give you more than one, did you? Oh no, no, no. With how tiny you are? Not to mention your tolerance has probably gone to shit. I think one is plenty for now.”

Well jokes on him. Just because you seem weak doesn’t mean you are. He’s not going to tell you how much you can and can’t drink. You scooted to the edge of the couch, wincing a little as you did. You scooped up the bottle of vodka and took a swig straight from the bottle.

You saw something flash behind his eyes, but he immediately hid it behind a playful smirk, “I don’t know if you’re a badass or a brat. Only time will tell. But I’ll have you know that in my house… My word is law. I’m just trying to help you after all.” He tore the bottle from your hands before securing the lid, giving it an extra hard squeeze to keep you from opening it again. “But because this is your first night here, and you’re hurt, and I really am a nice guy. I’ll let it slide this once…. So? You still want some ice cream?”

You nodded as you reached for your notebook but was alarmed when you couldn’t find it. You could already feel the light feeling of a buzz taking over, but you refused to let Dabi know he was right about your tolerance.

“What’s up? What are you looking for?” You made a gesture with your hands as if you were writing something down. “Ah, right. The handy dandy notebook. It’s probably in the car. I’ll go grab it.” He took a few steps away before coming back to grab the bottle of vodka, mumbling something about how he refuses to clean up your puke.

You took this time while he was away to get a better look at the place. It was very minimalistic. Lots of greys, whites, and blacks. The couch felt just as expensive as the giant tv on the wall looked. From what you could see of the kitchen, it looked nice. The shiny appliances were either kept impeccably clean, or never used. Was this his house? It hardly looked lived in.

“Alright got the notebook. How about you pick something to watch while I scoop some ice cream. What do you want? One for Vanilla, two for chocolate, three for cookies and cream.”

You held up three fingers. You were amazed at how well he was adjusting to communicating with you already. He had just accepted that you weren’t talking and went with it.

“Cookies and cream huh? I thought you’d be more of a fan of vanilla.” He chuckled. “The remot is on the side table next to you. The TV is rigged so you can basically watch whatever you want. Just type it into the search bar.”

You picked up the remote and quickly started scanning through channels. Your finger accidentally brushed the microphone button and you froze at the loud beeping noise that signaled it was listening.

Dabi had made his way over with two bowls both with cookies and cream. He saw the face you made at the remote before taking it from you and replacing it with a bowl of ice cream. “Hey none of that pouty shit. It’s not cute. This is temporary, you’ll be talking again in no time.”

He looked at the screen, “Okay one for anime, two for live action.” You held up one finger. “Okay, One for thriller, two for action, three for comedy. Four for romance.” You held up two fingers. “Oh, thank god I really thought you were going to pick romance. Okay I’m going to scroll through them, just tap my shoulder when you want me to stop.”

He scrolled for a while before you stopped him at Naruto. “Ah a classic. Good pick. Now get comfy. I have a feeling you’re gonna pass out before the first episode is even over.”

Sure enough, soon after finishing your bowl of ice cream you felt your eye lids drooping. A part of you was still nervous to fall asleep. But seeing as you just had a wild 24 hours… there was no way in hell you were fighting sleep for long.

“You ready for bed yet?” You sleepily nodded your head and started to slide down so you could lay down on the couch. “Oh no you don’t.” He scooped you up and headed down a hallway. He entered a rather large room with a bathroom attached and tossed you onto the bed causing the wound in your hip to throb. “Okay welcome to you room, this your bed, that is your bathroom. I will be right across the hall. I’d say yell if you need something but… well you know. So… try to not need me. Have a good night.”

You grabbed his wrist before he could get far, “What don’t tell me you’re like afraid of the dark or something.” He turned around to see your blushing face as you pointed to the bathroom and then to yourself. “Ooooooh, okay. Right. So, is this like a you need to pee situation? Or did you like… want to shower? Not that I’m against helping you take a shower…” He smirked at you.

You rolled your eyes and held up one finger. “Okay, okay, but you will eventually have to shower. But I guess we can figure that out tomorrow.” There was a wicked gleam in his eye that could only be compared to a child who was plotting on how to steal a cookie from the cookie jar.

He had been pretty patient while waiting for you to finish going to the bathroom, but he was still just as rough as he tossed you back onto the bed. “Alright, so, to reiterate, I’m right across the hall. Try to not need me. Good night.”

You sank into the bed the second the door closed behind him. You were alone. You were free and you were alone. Twenty-four hours ago, you had been strapped to a bed with shock collar on. You curled into a ball and cried. You wanted this to be the last time you felt sorry for yourself, so you wanted to get it all out now. Tomorrow was the first day of your new life and you didn’t plan on wasting a single second of it.

It didn’t take long for you to cry yourself to sleep considering how exhausted you were. What would have surprised you however was the fact that Dabi was sitting just outside the door listening to you muffled sobs, clenching his fists in rage.

It wasn’t until he heard you screaming that he realized he had fallen asleep there. On his feet in seconds he ran into your room. What he saw shook him a little bit. You had kicked all of the blankets off the bed. Soaked in sweat and tears. Your body was jerking around so hard it looked painful. You were having a nightmare, likely due to PTSD.

Shit what did he do? He’s no stranger to bad dreams, but he also knows he could make it worse if he doesn’t do this right. “Hey y/n. Y/N! I need you to wake up honey. It’s just a dream. You’re safe. Y/n. Y/N! Come on now follow my voice. Wake up for me yeah? You’re okay, I promise.” He reached out and as lightly as he possibly could touched your cheek.

You were burning up. He cursed as he tried to peel your soaked hoodie off of you. He started to shake your shoulder a little harder. But all that did was make you panic and thrash around. So he grabbed you and held you to him. “God Damnit Y/n. Wake up!”

He felt the tension leave your body only for a moment before you started to try and push him off of you.

He immediately dropped his arms and pushed away from you. “Hey you’re okay. It’s just me. Remember your hero pals saved you yesterday and now we’re roomies.” He could see the confusion in your eyes start to fade as you woke up. “Believe me I understand. I’d be scared too if I woke up in a weird place with my ugly mug lookin at you.”

He reached for your journal and tried to hand it to you. “You want to talk about it?”

You shook your head and hugged your knees to your chest. He nodded and put the journal back on the nightstand. “That’s okay. You don’t have to…” He wasn’t very good at this part. Talking about emotions and shit. “Yeah so uh… I can get you a different shirt.” He could see the goosebumps already raising on your arms. Now that the panic and adrenaline had subsided you were damp and cold. “And I can get a warm bath going if you want? He looked at the clock. It’s 5:30, which in ungodly early for me, but if you’re up I guess we can go ahead and start the day… How does that sound?”

You refused to look him in the eye and settled for a shrug of your shoulders, letting your knees drop from your chest. He could see straight through your tank top and was pleasantly surprised to find that under that baggie hoodie you had some nice tits.

He liked his lips and lucky for him, you were too busy avoiding eye contact that you didn’t even notice. “Alright well I tried being nice in giving you an option so now I’m telling you. You’re taking a bath.” He picked you up and walked towards the bathroom. “I’ll get the water going. Do you think you can manage making it from the toilet to the tub without me?”

Again, you shrugged which was quickly becoming one of his biggest pet peeves. He groaned, “One for yes, two for no. No more fucking shrugging.”

You nodded and held up one finger. “Alright, that wasn’t that hard was it?”

Without waiting for an answer he knew he wasn’t going to get he started the water and left you to it.

He went out to the car to grab the backpack the mini might kid had packed for you. Then into his room to grab you a clean shirt. He was going to leave the items outside the bathroom door until he heard a thump followed by a groan.

“Y/n? Did you fall down?” A very long pause later and you hit the side of the tub once. “Okay do you need help getting up?” Another long pause before you hit the side twice. “Are you sure?” He desperately wanted you to say no. Not to sound like a perv, but he’d love to get a quick peek at you.

Two hits on the tub sounded. “Okay, I’m coming in.” He opened the door almost too quickly. There you were sitting on the floor, back against the tub, completely naked. He had expected you to try and hide yourself from view, but was shocked when you practically reached for him, baring your entire chest for him to drink in.

He stopped for a moment before picking you up. “I’m not going to pick you up like I usually do. Instead I’m going to help you stand, and hold you while you try to get in yourself. We gotta start working on those legs.” You looked nervous but nodded anyways.

He hooked his hands under your armpits and pulled against him in standing position. His pinkies barley brushing the outside of your breasts and even that little bit drove him crazy. But he contained himself. The last thing he needed was you randomly activating your quirk and figuring out what a horn dog he is.

You weakly attempted to raise your right leg high enough to get into the tub. You were almost there, you almost had it. “That’s it, you’re doing so well. Just a little more, come on you can do it.” Whether you knew it or not, your ass was pushing back into Dabi’s crotch and he wasn’t going to make it much longer. So he lifted you a little higher making it easier for you to step in. “OKAY, I think one leg is good enough progress for now.” He sat the rest of you in gently before quickly turning away calling over his shoulder, “Alright, I’ll be back in… ten minutes to help you back out.”

You waited until he was gone to let a small giggle out. It honestly took you by surprise. It was the first time you had made a noise that wasn’t out of pain in a while. But just remembering the blush of his cheeks when you reached for him was enough to have you smile to yourself.

Before all of this happened to you were no stranger to being naked. In fact, you loved it. Maybe it was some weird side effect of your quirk. But you loved being naked, being intimate, having sex. To you there was no better bliss. You craved it. Your quirk allowed you all the control you could ever want, but there was something so intoxicating about giving that control over completely to someone else. To be praised, to be worshipped, to be adored.

Well at least that was the way you were before. Before you weren’t allowed to touch anyone, or look at them, or… speak to them. What if you were different now? What if being controlled for so long, being forced to do things against your will… what if it changed you?

The thought made you sad. You briefly considered testing the waters with Dabi, but quickly shook that from your head. And it wasn’t even the fact he was a villain, as much as you hate to admit it, you’d slept with villains before. But could you even consider him a villain anymore. You could see what Todoroki had meant by saying he was neither hero nor villain.

No, the biggest reason you needed to keep your hands off Dabi is because he was nice enough to take you in. You don’t need to jeopardize your safety just to curb your cravings.

You quickly scrubbed your body clean and did your best to wash your hair, but it was a nightmare. Your hair was crazy long now and the knots and tangles were just impossible to get through. You wined in frustration as your fingers yet again got stuck.

“You know I could always shave your head, I’m sure you could pull it off.” You stuck your tongue out at him as he handed you a brush. “Better watch who you’re sticking that tongue out at.” He hesitated, “Arms up, time to get out.”

You felt like a child, but you obeyed without protest. Earning you a “good girl” that sent shivers down your spine. “Hm? Do you like it when I praise you?”

You shrugged and avoided eye contact and you could feel the growl rip through is chest. “What did I say about fucking shrugging?”

You bit your lip and pulled yourself closer to him so he couldn’t see your blushing face.

Like a sack of potatoes, you were tossed onto to the bed. He tossed you a pair of clean underwear and one of his shirts that would easily come down to your knees. Once you were dressed, he roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed and sat between your legs.

Your heart rate spiked, and you let out an excited gasp. His hand smoothed up your thigh, “Relax, I’m just putting a new bandage on your hip. Don’t get so excited.” He examined the shallow wound and you winced. It took everything in him not to place a kiss right over your wound. He’d made that mark on you. It would definitely scar and as twisted as it sounded… he liked that.

He started to tape the new bandage down. One of his hands rubbed the inside of your thigh, while the other made sure the bandage was secure. God he just wanted to bite into the soft flesh in front of him. He took a deep breath to steady himself, but he was absolutely not prepared for… was you winding your fingers through his white locks.

“Y/n… what?” Your fingers tightened causing him to groan and let lose. He started to kiss the meaty part of your thigh, biting ever few kisses drawing sweet sounds from your lips that made him wonder what your voice sounded like. He made his way up to your hip and kissed right above the bandage before licking up from you belly button and up your sternum, pushing your shirt… well his shirt up as he went. He grabbed one of your tits in one hand while he sucked on the other nipple. Your hips bucked up as his hand traveled south. As soon as his hand started to sneak past your underwear something in you snapped.

You couldn’t do this. Not now. Something wasn’t right. You felt trapped under his body weight, you couldn’t breathe. Too much, you weren’t ready.

You pushed at his hand and whined until finally he got the message. He stopped and looked at your confused eyes, “Shit… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I-I guess I misread that one.” He pulled your shirt back down and knelt in front on you on the bed. “I guess we should set some rules huh?”

Rules… rules… follow the rules.

You yanked your gaze down to stare at your hands that you had folded in your lap. Don’t look, don’t talk, don’t touch.

He reached for one of your hands, but you yanked it back shaking your head. “Hey look at me.” You continued to stare into your lap. He swore under his breath, “Please… look at me. I need to know what I did or said that freaked you out so bad. This is what I mean when I said we need rules-“ You flinched. “Oh is the word rules?”

You started to shrug before you remembered he wouldn’t like that. You lifted a shaky hand and picked up your journal and handed it to him open to the first page. You snuck a glance at his expression as he read over them. His face was expressionless as he read over your list of rules. “Hm… sounds kinky.”

He looked around for something to write with before coming to sit next to you, making sure to give you plenty of space. “Okay so how about instead we have laws?” You gave a quick shrug before nodding in agreement. He narrowed his eyes at you, “And law number one. No fucking shrugging.”

He handed the pen to you, “You’re turn. Write something down.” You gave him a questioning look, “Don’t worry about it, if I don’t like it, I’ll just draw a line through it. We’re brainstorming here.”

You wrote down “No drugs.” You heard him groan but he nodded anyways.

“Okay fine but then you have to make eye contact when talking to me. Doesn’t matter if it’s verbal or not.”

You went on like that for a while until you had a new set of “laws”

You had agreed to workouts in the pool to get your strength back up and he agreed to try and learn sign language with you.

The last law he added however was “I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.”

You rolled your eyes and went to push him away but he dodged you easily enough. He quickly stood up throwing you over his shoulder. “Alright enough of that. We have a long day ahead of us.”

You helped him make breakfast while he explained that this house was one of many that he owned under different aliases. This one was the most secluded and had the best security system.

You were still picking at your pancakes when he sat next to you at the kitchen island bringing a laptop with him. “I’m not helping you down from here until you eat every last bite. Law number 7- Eat three full meals a day. Need to put some meet on those bones.”

He pulled up a website that had a video queued up that said introduction to sign language. “Okay before we get going 1 for tea, 2 for coffee.”

Your eyes lit up as you held up 2 fingers and scurried to grab your journal. ‘Can you put some milk in it?’ It had been so long since you had coffee and the thought had you bouncing with excitement.

He read it and gave you a thumbs up. “Go ahead and start the video, I’m just over here.”

And that’s how you set into your routine. Every day you’d sleep in until you decided to get up. Eat a big breakfast. Work on sign language. Eat Lunch. Do some kind of workout in the pool. Relax and watch TV. Eat dinner. Take a bath. Go to bed.

You did this every day for the past two weeks and you could already tell a difference. You and Dabi had learned a few basics in sign. Only a few words, but it was a start. But Dabi’s favorite part was helping you walk.

Not that he didn’t like carrying you, but this was just as much fun. He’d hold you under the armpits from behind and he’d let you stand on his feet like a child. You still couldn’t walk on your own, but you were so close. Every day you felt stronger and you knew it was only a matter of time.

Today marks sixteen days that you had been here. You watched as Dabi cleaned up the rest of breakfast. You frowned as you thought about how much he did for you and how little you gave in return. You hadn’t noticed him walk over to you until his hand was lifting your chin to look at him. “Pool time?”

You nodded and signed back ~Pool time~. You reached your arms up to be picked up and he easily complied, no worse than a trained dog.

“You’ve gained weight. I can tell.”

You looked horrified as you slapped his shoulder. ~rude~

He chuckled, “Hey don’t get all huffy about it. It’s a good thing. You were way too skinny before. You looked like a strong breeze would blow you over and break all of your bones.” He stopped at the edge of the pool giving you a wicked look. “Now you’re starting to look healthy again. Healthy enough for me to do this and not feel bad about it.”

He tossed you into the pool, clothes and all. You sputtered to the surface but didn’t have to struggle long before he was behind you leading you to the shallow end. “You’re fine. Almost there, don’t be so dramatic.”

He led you to the wall you usually hold on to for your exercises and let you go. You growled as you flipped him off. Idiot doesn’t need to know sign language to understand that one.

You pulled your wet shirt off and tossed it over to one of the lounge chairs. Leaving you in just a bra and underwear, which is how you normally did these exercises. Dabi had requested the heroes send a bathing suit in the next care package, but it hadn’t arrived yet.

He reached around your middle section and pulled you away from the wall after you had done a couple sets of squats and leg kicks. “Okay now lets see how you do without the wall.” He turned you around to face him and slowly backed away only holding your elbows now. “Okay now lets take a lap around the shallow end shall we?”

At first your steps were more like tiny shuffles. “It’s gonna take us all damn day if you don’t start taking bigger steps. Come on you can do it. Pick those feet up!”

You gave him a harsh glare. He knew you couldn’t fight back right now because your hands were too busy gripping his arms for support.

You started taking larger steps and then larger ones and then eventually you had made it almost all the way around. Dabi stepped back and completely. “Okay just a few more steps. I think you can do them on you own. Come on baby girl. Just a few steps. You can do it.”

You nodded enthusiastically, of course you could. It was just a few steps. You could do this. You reached your hands out to the side and took your first step by yourself. Your eyes lit up at the feeling. Sure, it was only in the pool, but that was progress! “That’s it! Good girl, keep going!” You reached for him as you took another step, followed by another and another and then suddenly he was picking you up. “Hell yeah! Atta girl! Good job. I think that earned you some kind of reward.” He gave the top of your head a quick kiss as he started to carry you out of the pool.

Your head was singing with his praises, and your body was buzzing with adrenaline after crossing such a huge milestone. He carried you to his room where he pulled out another shirt for you to wear. “Okay so about that rewar-“

He was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. His eyes went dark. No one was supposed to know where this place was. He quickly picked you up and sprinted to the office. There was a secret false wall panel that led to a saferoom. He had told you of its existence in case he ever needed to hide you, but you hadn’t actually seen it. He was in the process of opening up the wall when a familiar flash of blonde hair showed on the security monitor. You pinched his shoulder and pointed.

He looked at what you were pointing at and groaned. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

***************************

tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs

[neesieiumz]

Like I’m Bakugou {Katsuki Bakugou x Reader}

Summary: Katsuki comes to your place after a long day at work only to find you blasting music while you work. But what is it about this specific song that had Bakugou questioning you. 

A/N: I got the idea for this while I was listening to “Bakugo” by Kamil... you already know this is for my black women but anyone is welcome to read them. 

Word count: 1.5 k

Katsuki was tired. He just spent three hours discussing with the police about a raid gone wrong, how there could possibly be a mole, and how they should take the next steps. Obviously, he believed they should go around and make the person who could be the rat cough up the information but no one wanted to listen to him. So he just sat in a room arguing with everyone about what to do next when it got to a point that Kiri could see that everyone was tired and on edge and said that they should all go home early and go to sleep. Katsuki was tired to fight back and decided to go see you and crash at your place for the night. 

He hadn’t seen you in a couple of weeks since he decided to take this mission that was a very delicate situation, and being a top hero costume designer who worked with only the best, and that your father was a pro-hero in America, you know what being a pro hero entails and how it can take away from personal life. He knew you wouldn’t hold him not contacting you against him, when he wasn’t working on this case, he was catching up on sleep. 

He pulled up to your house and parked in the driveway. As he climbed out of his car and walked up to your front door, he could hear the bass of the song you were blasting from outside and shook his head and rolled his eyes. He walked up to your door and used his spare key to open the door. The muffled music became much clearer to him as he walked in. He closed the door and triple checked if the door locked before going to look for you. 

As he looked for you, he tuned into the song you were playing and stopped in his tracks as he heard his name… His name? The song was in English, which was honestly his weak suit while he was a student at UA. As he stood there, he remembered how you told him how he was getting more and more popular in America. 

“It’s because of how fine you are, America is a sucker for handsome heroes with anger issues or blond American dream heroes as well. That’s how All might be well-liked over there too.” You shrugged, handing him your phone to show him the article and to try and help him translate. 

Katsuki gave off a stank-like face as he scrolled through the article, with you in his ear telling him what they are saying. He stopped at the articles tweet references on how the general public thought of him and asked “what the hell does this say?” 

You took the phone and looked at what he was asking about before covering your mouth to muffle the loud ass laugh you let out. Bakugo looked confused as you hunched over, wheezing. 

“What? What the hell does it say?!?” He bellowed grabbing the phone out of your hands. 

You took a deep breath and wiped away your tears as you tried to speak, “I should be angry that they are saying this about my boyfriend but honestly it’s just so funny!” 

Katsuki glared at you before tackling you and pinning you to the ground. You let a scream as he pinned your door and stared you down. He blinked a couple of times before smirking and lowering his head till his lips were near your ear. You shivered at this action, feeling his hot breath on your earlobe. 

He whispered in your ear, “so are you gonna fucking tell me what the hell it said or not?”

You looked back at him with low eyes before moving your neck till your own head was near his ear and whispered what the tweet said but not without adding some extra things because you already know where this was gonna go. 

Katsuki shook his head out of the flashback and concentrated on the song. He picked up on the words he did know, his name, the word that starts with an n that you cussed him out on saying that one time, blow up, nitroglycerin (considering that’s what he sweats), and that was it. He was confused and set out to find you to figure out what you were listening to. 

He followed the music to see where it was coming from. He walked all around the house before going upstairs and passing by your room where you weren’t and found in your office, toying around with some gadgets. You didn’t know he was here and he didn’t make his presence noticed as he noticed you were rapping along with the song. He crossed his arms and smirked and continued to look at you working and rapping along. 

“Like I'm Bakugo, turn they soul to fuckin' smoke, bitch I'm boutta' pop, bitch you know I'm boutta' blow up,” 

He had no idea what you were saying but was sure to get it out of you when the song finished. Lucky for him, the song ended with one final line and then it faded out and ended. You paused your music before the next song could play. You got up from what you were working on for Tsu to go get a bottle of water and you looked up and saw your boyfriend standing there, arms crossed and face pulled into a cocky smile. 

“Fuck! You scared me!” You let out, jumping a little and pressing a hand into your pounding heart. 

Katsuki said nothing but walked over to your desk where your phone was sitting on. You said nothing but saw him pick up the phone and unlock it before you remembered what song was playing before you looked up. You dropped your bottle of water and walked over to try and grab your phone out of his hands but it was too late, he replayed the song. 

“Mind telling me why my name is in this song?” He asked, placing your phone back on your desk. 

You stammered on your words, your face burning with slight embarrassment. 

“It’s not about you!” You said, turning away from him.

You knew that if he knew that someone made a whole song after him, he wouldn’t let go of it, his inflated ego wouldn’t allow him to let it go, so you only played it when he wasn’t home and when you lowkey kind of missed him. The song was Bakugo personified and if you told him that, you may hear this song multiple times a day. 

“It has my name, nitroglycerin and I’m pretty sure it mentions one of my attacks, I’m not 100 percent sure.”

Your eyes widened as you realize that you were caught redhanded, you should have known, even though it wasn’t his first language, Katsuki was very perceptive about things. You sighed and bent down to pick up the water bottle that you dropped. You went back to your desk and sat down and Katsuki followed suit and pulled up the spare chair you had. You grabbed your phone and went through your notes till you found the lyrics you translated for this situation, in case it did happen. 

You restarted the song and handed the phone to let him read along with the song. For two minutes and 30 seconds, both of you sat in silence as you let him listen to the song in full. You could see the cocky smile slowly appear on his face as he continued to listen and you sighed, starting to feel that your prediction was going to be correct. Soon enough the song ended and Katsuki paused the music and gave you back the phone. For about another minute, you two sat in empty silence as he thought over what he just listened to. The silence was killing you and you had to know what he thought of the song.

“Well?” You asked,

Katsuki still didn’t say anything and you just stared at him. Finally, he looked up and placed his hands at the back of his head. 

“It’s alright,” is all he said. 

You glared at him, not trusting what he was saying. He could feel your glare and turned to look at you, “seriously it’s alright, not my taste.”

You still didn’t trust what he said and held your glare making the ashy blond groan and get up from his seat. 

“Fine don’t believe me,” he started, walking towards you, all of sudden he grabbed at you and scooped you up into his arms, making you yelp and immediately grab at his biceps, “but I’m tired as fuck and all I want to do is take a shower and go to sleep.”

You squealed as he carried you to your bedroom. 

***

You were asleep, curled up in the sheets. You couldn’t feel Katsuki next to you but he was always leaving early so you expected that and just curled into your own body heat to replace his. All of a sudden… 

“LIKE I’M BAKUGO!”

Your eyes opened and you flew up from your bed with swiftness, the song interrupting your sleep. 

“KATSUKI!!”

You could hear his obnoxious laugh from the bathroom and you ripped the blanket off your body and charged up your quirk to attack him for interrupting your sleep.

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 10 “The Elevator” [Episode List] After visiting a friend’s house, Tim and the gassy-as-usual Dave take a really slow elevator together.

The Elevator

I took a quick sip of beer as our friend Adam left the living room to get another can in his fridge. What was left was a weirdly awkward silence and Dave, with his own beer, glaring at me.

“Dude,” he whispered. “It’s been a hour. I thought you were gonna tell him.”

I chose Adam as the first non-Dave bud to come out to, but it ended up being surprisingly hard to do. It’s not like Dave was forcing me or anything, or that Adam was a bad person; on the contrary, Dave was simply there with me as my emotional support in case things go south (but we both know they won’t) and Adam was, well, just Adam. Dave’s rightful reaction to me not coming out as planned didn’t bother me and as I said he wasn’t there to intimidate a confession out of me.

“Look, I don’t feel ready, okay?”

“You’ve been talking about the weather for 20 minutes.” he hissed. “What’s next? Geology?”

I chuckled. “Actually, this reminds me that they found this weird rock in South Amer-“

“I can’t believe this.”

“What’s not to believe? You take a big shovel and-“

“And I’m gonna dig my own grave if you start talking about rocks.”

I chuckled again. I know he wasn’t really mad.

Annoyed? Maybe. But mad? Nah, that’s a stretch.

He had all the rights to be annoyed though, but in the end it was my decision to make and he knew this.

We kept whispering as we heard Adam rummaging the fridge like some kind of raccoon longing for a cold drink.

“Look.” I said. “it’s late now anyway. Let’s just leave. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“Fine.” he replied. “Let’s finish our beers first at least.”

“That goes without saying.” and I took a long sip.

Truth is that I hadn’t any real reason to hide my homosexuality from Adam or any other of my buds actually. First, we’re in our 20s, we’re all mature and open-minded here. And in the end, excluding the whole fart-thing going on with Dave, they were all like him, chill guys. Adam, despite always sounding like someone who wants to have none of your shit, or anyone’s shit really, more than once proved that it’s just a facade and not-so-deep down he’s always ready to listen and back you up whenever you needed it. He did just listen to me talking about the weather for 20 minutes, so either he’s fascinated by the subject or knows I’m trying to tell him something else and is just patiently waiting.

The thought of wasting both of my buds’ time in a way or another kind of bothered me to be honest, so I was more than okay with wrapping things up and just leave, which me and Dave did mere minutes later.

“See you bro.” my bud said to Adam, standing by the door, as we went outside in the hallway, not far from the stairs and the elevator “Tim wants to talk about rocks so I’m taking him out of here before he kills you with boredom.”

“The one they dug up in Colombia?” Adam asked, much to our surprise.

“Yeah.” I answered. “They know it’s andesite but it has some interesting carvings on the surface and-“

A startled “What the fuck.” from Dave echoed in the hallway and the entire apartment building.

“What the fuck indeed.” Adam uttered, rather excitedly, completely missing the point. “This could change the archeo-history of the entire region.”

“I heard enough.” Dave said as he walked towards the elevator.

Both me and the other rock-enthusiast laughed at his reaction.

“By the way, I’m going to join you for a bit as I gotta walk the dog.” Adam remembered, reaching for a leash behind him.

“We’ll see you outside then.” Dave replied and then turned to me. “Tim, elevator, now.” he ordered.

“You sure, guys? You remember that thing is slow as shit, right?”

“We’ll be fine.” my bud said, patting my back. “I guess I’ll make Tim last longer then.” he joked.

“That only happens when you call me ‘daddy’” I joked back, as we walked towards the elevator, leaving our common friend behind.

“Rrrright.” Adam said. “I’ll get the dog while you two solve your sexual tension. See you outside.”

I pressed the button to summon the lift, Dave’s arm still around my shoulder as if he had something to show me. Truth to be told, I somehow knew where this was going.

As the panels of the door opened, we stepped into the elevator cab. I pressed the “G” on the control panel. I heard a mechanical noise and the elevator started its long, slow descent (we were at the 10th floor), after the doors closed behind us of course.

It was a cold evening and the cab wasn’t any warmer. I turned to Dave, who was wearing a dark blue hoodie and a pair of grey jeans. He looked at me with a smirk, hands in his jeans pockets; he raised his eyebrows and, without warning, a loud thunder echoed in that enclosed moving space.

The roaring fart had a slow start, with some interruptions, actually a sign for how big it was, but Dave, being an expert, quickly tamed the gassy beast and properly “tuned” the sound of the blast after a couple of seconds, keeping a consistent pitch, while also making it sound loud and deep. It felt like he was ripping one of those huge “when the girl finally leaves” farts, only, well, Dave-sized, which is always a sight to behold… hear? In this case there was no girl so he probably simply held all of his farts in to not ruin “the moment”, in case I wanted to come out back at Adam’s place (with beer acting as a bonus fuel).

A silly smile was drawn on my bro’s face as the fart kept going strong and proud, sometimes reaching some incredibly loud moments. He chuckled a bit and even winked at me when the blast made some particularly “meaty” noises, if that makes any sense. The fart was impressive on his own but Dave “interacting” with me while still masterfully passing gas was incredible as well (and, of course, hot).

The number 6 on the control panel lightened up and only in that moment I realized two things: the first being that the elevator was indeed slow as fuck; the second is that around 40 seconds passed and neither Dave nor his fart “flinched”. I was widely aroused by that and I felt the air around us getting more and more “polluted”, but not in an unbearable way actually. The blast kept echoing inside the elevator and I’m pretty sure that it could have been easily heard, albeit a bit muffled, by anyone taking the stairs.

Dave farted in my face many times, but no fart reached the length and power of this one, which is saying a lot. My bud’s butt-burps normally last around 6-12 seconds and don’t get me wrong they’re amazing, but man, maybe this one rip would have been too much to endure even for me: it simply wouldn’t stop. It’s like there was a loud engine in the elevator which couldn’t be turned off as I couldn’t hear anything else.

I was instead the opposite of turned off and teasing bastard Dave Maning knew this and, as usual, had no issue with it. At this point it was a race between Dave’s longest fart and the world’s slowest elevator.

We were now at the 3rd floor and my bud probably wanted to do a “big finale”; he was visibly pushing the blast out now, as if he wanted it to last as long as possible, a smirk still drawn on his face. He closed his eyes and the sound made it look like another fart was ripped over the sound of the previous fart, as if two audio channels in his ass somehow overlapped. The sound was of course louder than ever; the smell now, and only now, getting a bit hard to get used to. But to be honest, Dave’s skills as a sound designer alone were impressive enough.

A big part of me, mainly the one between my legs, wanted to get on my knees and plant my face in his denim ass before the fart faded out, but I knew that would have been too much even for such a chill guy like him. I’m sure he wouldn’t hate me or anything at this point but we both know there are some untold boundaries and honestly it’s better this way. I know how lucky I am to have someone like him around (farts or not).

My farting bro probably read my mind as he slowly turned around and got closer, again without affecting the fart’s quality and, being a bit taller then me, basically farted on the upper part of my hip. It almost made my entire body shake due to its power and it felt good. Now I really wanted to bend down as if I was tying my shoes but what stopped me this time was also the thought of… not surviving. I was familiar with Dave’s farts but this was absurdly powerful even for him.

And finally, as Dave resumed his previous position, again looking at me, the fart stopped, followed by my friend letting out a relieved whistle, and then an immature cackle.

Not even 2 seconds after that the elevator reached its destination, stopping as well. I jokingly clapped my hand and shook my head in disbelief. “Bravo!” I said, as if I just watched some fancy stage play.

Dave simply smiled and turned his back at me to face the exit, as we both waited for the just-as-slow panel doors to open.

“At least not all the time here was wasted.” he laughed.

“Bro, we had a beer together. That’s never a waste of time for me.” I replied.

“Wow. Rocks, gay and cringe. You got it all, Tim!” he replied.

We both laughed at me being needlessly cheesy and finally stepped out of that gas chamber. Someone stepped in the cab as we left it and the doors closed, leaving us in the hallway at the ground floor. We heard muffled coughing noises almost immediately and we laughed again, as we knew the disgusting reason. Poor, innocent soul.

“Ok but bro” Dave then said, looking a bit more serious. “You gotta do it someday. Trust me you can trust all of us.”

“I know man.” I replied, as we walked towards the exit “Next time I meet Adam, doesn’t matter where and when, I’m gonna tell him that I’m gay.”

My voice echoed in the building and through the stairs, but I didn’t care.

“You’re… gay?”

Okay, I cared.

We both turned around, puzzled.

It was Adam, right behind us (with this dog on leash), descending one last set of stairs before ending up in front of us. Somehow he’s been slower than the elevator, which both me and Dave found hilarious but I also had other emotions going on that moment.

Dave patted my shoulder encouragingly and stepped back: it was my time to shine.

“Yep.” I simply said. “I wanted to tell you hours ago but I didn’t have the guts to do it.”

Adam just stared at me with a confused expression.

I didn’t feel as nervous as I anticipated. “Yes, Dave knows it…” I quickly added, noticing him staring at my other straight bud. “And I asked him to not tell anyone.”

A moment of silence followed and those always feel like they last hours.

“I mean you two clearly have been dating each other for years” Adam joked. “So it’s no surprise, really.”

“WHAT WE HAVE IS SPECIAL!” Dave shouted, jokingly faking a desperate reaction.

I simply laughed and before I could process how well everything was going I felt Adam doing something very unusual for him: he hugged me.

“I’m glad you told me, man.” he simply said. “You know you can count on us.”

I know times have changed and all but this felt like a victory. Every time I’m gonna come out to a friend of mine it’s one step closer to the peak of a mountain and once at the top I will finally-

“Fuck, I forgot my phone.” Adam said, patting his pockets. “I’ll just take the elevato-“

“NOOO!” both me and Dave screamed, knowing that it was still a deadly gas chamber.

Adam simply replied with an annoyed expression and went for the stairs, the dog just behind him.

“Oh hey by the way.” I asked. “What took you so long? You said the elevator was slow but somehow we made it here before you.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” he replied. “It’s just that I heard some weird noises echoing through the stairs and me and another guy tried to understand what it was.”

Dave tried to not to burst into laughter, while I simply smiled like an idiot. Adam and his dog then went up the stairs and left us in silence, not until my gassy bro decided to break it the way he usually does.

A loud fart erupted and echoed through the building, only lasting around 4 seconds this time.

“There it is again!” we heard Adam say, a couple floors above us.

Me and Dave shared an amused look and went outside trying to not laugh like immature idiots. I felt the cold weather all over me, which was relieving considering the gas trap I’ve been trapped into only minutes earlier.

Despite a slow, yet really entertaining elevator ride, and my awkwardness, no time went wasted today.

“I’m proud of you, bro.” Dave said, this time serious, but still smiling.

“Wow.” I replied. “Straight and cringe. You got it all, Dave.” and winked at him.

“Don’t get too cocky now, rock nerd.”

I was rock-hard, to be more precise that’s for sure, but that was a detail I’d take care of later, perhaps thinking back of that absurd elevator ride. Whenever I’m with Dave, I’ll make sure we’re never taking the stairs again.

End of Episode 10

[heresyourramen]

Firebird - Choi Yeonjun x (Fem) Reader

Part of the Hamratia Collaboration by @delicatewerewolfsoul and @sleepylixie.

The artist is Choi Yeonjun, Greek god is Apollo and the deadly sin, pride.

Genre: Greek mythology/ ballet school AU, Angst, villain YN.

Word Count: 11 305

Warnings: Mentions of injury, swearing, the word boobs once, backstabbing (because that's showbizz babyyy), Villain YN, the tiktok audio "gatekeep, gaslight, girlboss" comes to mind, and the crippling pressure of never being perfect that is often found in any sport.

Description: Cupid might never be a victor when apposing Apollo in archery but he had still managed to bring the Sun God to his knees with a single of his arrows.

and he will continue to torment him for his prideful claims, for Daphne's heart will forever be pierced by Cupids led arrow.

Yeonjun, a principle dancer at the Laurier School of Ballet, had a lot going for him, he was from a well respected family within the performing arts community and had been granted a scholarship many in the school would envy him for. Sadly he did have one thing that was not going in his favour a rather tragic and unsuccessful love life, riddled with beautiful woman and men, even the lovers of his closest friends.

Until he one day finds himself Infatuated with a prize he could not attain.

A Firebird.

Honestly you could never tell if Yeonjun was actually naïve or just played dumb.

Girls and boys flocked to him and he seemed to fawn over whom ever piqued his interest most but it never lasted longer than a month, or someone cheated on someone or the relationship ended out being a fiery crash of hatred and venomous bouts in hallways with wide eyed audiences. Somehow he always acted as if he had gotten the short end of the stick, for a week forlorn before another beauty of sorts would be the centre of his attention. Sweet melodies would once again come from where ever he worked, a soft tenor promising spring and love and hope.

You steered clear.

If it wasn't an emotional roller-coaster enough being a double major, his affections would seem to be. No, you'd much rather work on your stubborn unsupple hips and relevés you always get scolded for than listen to whatever hot mess he had going on.

And god was it a loud hot mess. Your headphones blasting Dua Lipa wasn't even drowning out the heated argument between Yeonjun and his dance partner, seated in the corner of the massive practice room by the only corner without mirrors and filled with shelves for bags you keep your eyes on anything but the pair. You turn to face Jungkook who stood stretching as well but with none of the concerns of being caught as he watches curiously a humoured smirk on his lips. You had been lucky enough to be paired with the groups teaching assistant, just as well you were sure half the boys in your class couldn't even lift you. He senses your stare and looks down at where your sat opening up your hips his smirk stretching to a full blown smile, great at least someone was enjoying this spectacle. A shame really that the two strongest dancers in the class were paired up together for the showcase that would double as evaluations, it meant none of the other junior dancers would stand a chance at impressing anyone but also it was a shame that they also happened to be exes. You huff a small sigh through your nose as you get up from the floor and remove the headphones to put in your bag and to pull out the black training tutu. Jungkook had suggested it considering the challenge of the chosen dance itself that from the start you get used to how it would affect your movements, when he'd announced that the firebird pas de deux you'd nearly spilt more than half your coffee on him. It was insane, you'd thought, you were much better suited for contemporary styles and the Modern Jazz ensemble but Jungkook was patient and understanding most of the time as well as stern when necessary and since the performance would also affect his station in the school you didn't argue. Your fingers guide it over your stockings and over your leotard before fiddling where it had bent funny or folded. You turn towards the door a scowl set on your face at who ever barged in, you had booked the studio for the next three hours no one was supposed to come watch you clumsily stumble into Jungkook's arms.

A boy stood in the door way, eyes wide as it landed on you, you recognised him from around campus a friend of Yeonjuns and a classmate Seo Changbin. He wasn't all that tall but his black t-shirt was stretched taught over a broad chest and big arms, gaze sharp even hidden under his long dark fringe that swept over his forehead and eyes. His gaze matched yours and the unimpressed frown he wore disappeared for only a moment as it fell on you softening slightly as he held up a hand in a small wave to you and your partner respectfully. You dip your head in a nod as greeting before another angry curse draws his attention and yours to the bickering couple.

"Yeonjun-ah!" his voice was loud and sharp enough to make the two dancers stop.

"We will be late for class AGAIN, if you don't move your annoyingly firm ass NOW!" Yeonjun's eyes flickered to the clock above the doorway his friend had just burst through and cursed under his breath before running towards you and Jungkook to grab his bags leaving his dance partner to angrily stomp her way after him. You sweep past them in a wide arc and into the centre of the room as you test out the silky pointes arching up onto your toes and back down as you wait for Jungkook to plug in his phone to the sound system and start the music. He turns and nods at you and you take a step towards the edge of the room aware of the curious gazes on your figures. You stand ready and as soon as the whirring clarinet starts you start your leaping entrance before a twirling arabesque. One thing you cursed Jungkook for was that he managed to choose a dance that had you constantly moving. The door shut and announced they'd left leaving you to fight your way through the next three hours of strenuous technicalities.

Yeonjun would've applauded himself for his dress of choice the baggy grey sweatpants he wore over his tights and tight black t shirt he'd been training in had made it possible to switch out his own ballet shoes for some Jordan's easily enough before Changbin could pull him out of the studio by his hair. They managed to slide into the back seats of the lecture hall for music theory just on time.

"What's the dancer that was waiting with Jungkook Sunbae for you two to stop squabbling's name again?" Changbin murmured his gaze transfixed to the page of his notebook as he doodled away trying to force himself into a state of calm.

"Who?" Yeonjun frowned he hadn't cared much for the pair that waited, he was fully distracted by the small mistakes that his partner was making and would cost him his place as top student and his scholarship no doubt. Changbin looked up at him, any ounce of sympathy for his crappy partner and whatever patience he had left dissipated into the stuffy air of the dark lecture hall, how could he have so little care for the people around him daily? He'd seen you in the hallways with either a massive canvas bag or a baggy sweater over a leotard and skirt and always with a tight slicked back bun that emphasized a deadly serious gaze that often rolled back at the sight of them or rather Yeounjun and whomever he had hanging onto him that day.

"Oh you mean Y/N ?" Yeonjun eyes widened innocently, with the realization. Changbin nodded and Yeonjun shrugged his gaze lowering along with his posture as he slid down to slump his tired body into his chair.

"What about her?"

"Well... aren't they in our class? What do you think their presentation will look like? " Changbin inquired curiously as he watched his friend shrug again his eyes still trained at the slideshow the teacher was babbling over.

"Jungkook is the teaching assistant but he'd managed to pair up with a sub-par ballet dancer, poor guy. Her ankles are weak and she's too contemporary, her theatricality is commendable but mostly just makes her routines seem sloppy, why?" Yeonjun said with a small tug at the corner of his lips as he swept the dark black tresses from his eyes that never left their pacing lecturer. Because of this he missed the way Changbins irritated smirk dropped away, his lips pulling into an ugly straight line, an expression that had started showing more recently. He would agree there was room for an improvement, but there was for everyone in their class even the principle beside him. His temper was on a very short leash with his friend as he watched his arrogance grow after every break up. Yeonjun's love life was tragic, truly, and he'd feel bad for his friends pitiful attempts at relationships if he wasn't such a goddamn prick about it. Yeonjun had managed to date many a girl or boy that even his friends had some sort of interest in, always managing it in a way that made it seem he couldn't help himself and Changbin was tired of it, exhausted not even getting a chance. That small little proud smirk was still stuck on his friends face when he inquired once more.

"Are you not in the slightest bit worried that they might manage to out stage you?" Yeonjun had to muffle his loud 'Ha' with a cough as he snickered to himself his friends gaze growing darker as his frown deepened.

"Of course not but its cute that you worry for me 'Bin." Yeonjun answered with a sweet smile and a pat on the shoulder before focusing back on the class.

That would be it, Changbin thought, Yeonjuns own pride would be his downfall.

He'd make sure of it.

"Hi! Y/N, right?" the strange voice announced its presence loudly from beside the studio door, you're startled enough to drop the empty water bottle and your history book. To tired to even worry about it, you simply raise your hands over your eyes and sigh deeply, brushing the few loose strands that had managed to escape from the the gel and hairpins during the the gruelling three hour training session out of your face. One would imagine after two weeks your body would be used to it but alas. Every part of you ached, actually it was a relief not holding that 10 ton excuse of a book and you knew if you didn't open your eyes right away you'd fall asleep right there standing. You let your arms fall to your sides and raise your eyes to the culprit who stood holding your bottle and book a soft concern gracing his dark features.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mind to startle you like that." He apologizes but doesn't make a move to hand you back your belongings.

"It's okay I'm pretty jumpy by nature." You wave him off not even attempting to muster the frustration you probably should have felt.

"Have you been training for the last couple of hours?" Changbins brow furrows and his eyes trail over your figure clad in some sweatpants and your training jumper. You nod slowly and pulling your phone out of your bag to check the time you'd ran over time, since no one had booked the slot for the studio after. Jungkook stepped out of the studio dark hair swept back as he pulled on his own black hoodie.

"Oh Jungkook, just who I'm looking for." Changbin says and he rests a soft hand on your elbow as he gently guides you out of the doorway his other still holding your stuff before falling away as he stands beside you

"Changbin Madame Jeong spoke to me earlier. Are you sure about swapping places?" Jungkook gets straight to the point, his brow furrowing. Changbin couldn't blame him, being evaluated on your dance ability and your ability to choreograph a piece from scratch was completely different.

"It's not like I have much choice, Tzuyu won't be back anytime soon with a torn ACL." Changbin hears your shocked gasp, and turns his head to observe your hand over your mouth and eyes wide at the shocking news. With classes being suspended for the rest of the semester and such a large group few people had known of her injury.

"What's going to happen now?" You ask eyes wide with concern as you look between the older man and your classmate.

"Jeong had suggested Changbin take my place in your performance and I participate in my own years evaluation." Jungkook said with an apologetic expression down at you, your tired features barely even managed a proper frown.

"What?"

"It's still a month and Changbin is one of the best dancers in the group, you'll be fine." Jungkook wore a guilty expression as he scratched the back of his head as he watched your shoulders hunch over, folding in on yourself as you start to slowly loose hope.

"Hey! Don't do that, you know I'll even come help out if you need me!" he grabs you by your shoulders and force you to look at him, he doesn't break the stare down until you nod. You were furious, not only was this inconvenient but it would effect the outcome of the rest of your studies at this school. But you couldn't even muster any of the energy you needed to be upset about it after a gruelling session.

"Whatever," You shake Jungkooks hands off your shoulders and take your stuff from Changbin who'd been watching the exchange with a nervous nibble at his plump bottom lip.

"We're doing Firebird, I'm sure Jungkook will inform you of how atrocious I am." You turn on your heal and walk away because honestly, fuck that shit.

"Hey I think we got off on the wrong foot I'm Cha-" Changbin stood leaning behind the studio door waiting for you to show up. You had contemplated not showing, because who cares at this point? Not Jungkook, not Changbin and certainly  not that piece of work director Jeong.

"I know who you are, don't worry." You interrupt him as you fiddle with a hair pin that was practically indented into your skull with the way you had furiously stabbed it into the bun. Changbin to his credit musters the decency to look guilty.

"This isn't ideal for either of us but I have faith in us." Changbin says softly and you nearly bark a laugh in his face, you instead settle for a scoff. Yeah, sure he'd be fine he was a top student, technically near perfect almost better than Yeonjun only lacking the physical stature that would be needed to accommodate taller partners, where you're bottom tier at least in ballet, a charity case and no doubt a relief to be rid off, Jungkook was probably ecstatic knowing you weren't his responsibility anymore.

"Yeah, we'll see how you feel after the next three hours buddy." You pat him on his shoulder before brushing past him into the studio at 12 sharp. Changbin with a frustrated glower follow you, you weren't going to make this easy.

He steps in to the sound of Yeonjun's ex yelling at his friend and he can't help but feel a little better about this mess, he doubted you'd snap at him like that.

Your judgement was obvious, your face like an open book as you observed the pair going at each other. But it wasn't just disapproval, it was a corner of a lip tilted in a smile laced with pity. Changbin just wasn't sure if it was for Yeonjun or his partner.

He guessed it was the latter rather, by his past experience of being pinned with a scrutinious stare every time he was with his friend.  You weren't part of the plan in anyway, in fact he really was praying to what ever immortal beings existed in the realms of the heavens the two of you would perform a passable performance at least, but there was always another way to throw Yeonjun of his game.

Love.

His ex was playing a big role in her reluctance to cooperate and he didn't even have to do much about it, in fact Changbin didn't have to do anything about it but that wouldn't be enough. It wasn't Yeonjuns first challenging partner, he'd manage, highly stressed but he'd still  do his best.

"Changbin?" Your voice breaks his stare from the pair as they train through their rendition of Apollo and one of the muses dance and he notes that you're already in the black tutu over your not so traditional leotard. It wouldn't be a problem if the zip that ran down it's front was done up like most other students wore it. He swallowed hard, he didn't blame you, he'd heard that leotards were constricting, he just didn't realize it would do a better job than a push up bra.

"If you're done could we possibly get them out of here?" He doesn't miss the small smile that graces your features before turning around to face the mirrors and finish your stretching. Changbin clears his throat as he quickly changes out of his sneakers.

"Yeonjun, times up!" His voice booms over the music and shocks you enough to come up from the back bend you'd been stretching in, unwinding a supple arch until you're stood straight again, only to be met with a different sharp gaze from under black strands. Yeonjuns dark eyes are trailing over your torso as he makes his way over towards his bag, you keep your face straight as your fingers find the zip on your front, you taunt him a small drag down, his tongue sliding over his full bottom lip, before zipping it all the way up.  You keep yourself from laughing at the way the softest pink dusts his cheeks and his eyes divert as you pass him, you'd think they'd never seen a pair of boobs before the way these boys were acting.

"You ready?" Changbin calls over, his brow raised. He hadn't missed the brief exchange and you meet his gaze.

"I am, but do you know the choreography?" Your brows raise and Changbin gives you a smug little smirk as  answer and starts the music.

"ohmygod you're worse than Jungkook!" You babble. You swear you can hear your hips breaking as Changbin pushes down through his arms keeping your knees on the worn hardwood floor. Solid, warm muscle is pressing into your back as he leans over you.

"Stop complaining it's only a few more seconds." He huffs out, but when you tilt your head up you're met with a grin through your watery eyes. The timer goes off and you suck in a deep breath as Changbin lets you relax out of the pose. The session had been hard, he'd managed to point out technicalities that Jungkook had managed to miss or rather chose to ignore when he suggested cooldown your legs nearly gave out, it was outrageous the best modern dance program at a fucking ballet school. You weren't built for this. You lie back with a huff and watch as Changbin sets another timer.

"More?" This was crazy and he shakes his head with playful grin.

"It's only helping you." He points out and takes your now sweatpants clad legs and straighten them out for you before taking one ankle and pushing it up and towards your chest. This isn't nearly as difficult but it was uncomfortable. His arm that wasn't holding your leg was pushing your hips down to assure it from lifting and although he was sat kneeling between your legs he was still half hanging over your face. Sharp cologne, mixed with sweat was filling your airways and a thin silver chain dangled from around his neck as his he watched you. You clear your throat and head of all of your inappropriate thoughts.

"How'd you know the choreography?" You ask softly but jot your chin out just a little to assert yourself more.

Changbin smiles down at you.  The last three hours had been the most time he'd spent with you, in the last two years and he couldn't help himself, he enjoyed your company. Your confidence, your focus and drive. Your being aware of yourself, wo you are and your bold assertion of it had made him more comfortable than intimidated.

"Jungkook and I ran through it last night after you threw a temper tantrum and ran off." He watches your eyes roll dramatically ready to snap back at him with something sarcastic or mean but he doesn't give you the chance too.

"I'm also pretty familiar with it, I've done parts of it before." Your mouth closes and brows knit in a frown at the interruption and he chuckles at the expression. His fingers trail along your calve softly as he sits back and releases his grip on your ankle to do the same with the other one. But when he leans back over you his face is serious, brows drawn pensively together and lips in an angry line.  You leave it, to tired to pry.

"Y/n... I- what would you do if I made a proposition?" His sharp stare flicks from where it was staring at the floor and to your face and you squirm slightly.

"Depends, what's in it for me?" Your voice is low as each of you regard the other with hesitancy.

"An A+." Changbin answered and you laughed.

"You're funny."

"Y/N. I'm serious." You settle down and he pins you with a determined stir.

"I want to beat Yeoujun. I want his scholarship, and I want principle."  Your eyes widen at that. You didn't have much against Yeonjun besides the fact that he was annoying and reeked of talent but did nothing with it.

"That's a little harsh isn't it? I get principle but the scholarship? Aren't you guys friends?" You inquire curiously and Changbin lowers his head to avoid your gaze. When he looks back up his tongue is stuck in his cheek as he grins.

"You'd think? Either way he sure as hell doesn't fucking act like it." He says it with a little bitter chuckle. The two of you sit in that loaded silence, filled with secrets, and revenge and jealousy for a moment just staring at the other.

"What do you say?" He's leaning closer and his words just above a whisper as he continues to regard you a moment longer, eyes flickering over your face trying to read your expression the tension was palpable if you stuck out the tip of your tongue you'd taste it and Changbins lips.

The glass doors click open.

"Am I interrupting something?" A familiar voice calls and dripping with smugness. Changbin watches as you roll you eyes and sits back with a little smile as he lets go of your leg and ankle. Yup, definitely the right candidate.

You sit up from the floor and look over at the door where Yeonjun is leaning a little grin on his face as he takes in the sight of the two of you, Changbin idly resting in between your thighs.

"It's called stretching, I'm sure you've heard of it before. You know, being a ballet dancer and all?" Changbin retorts and helps you to stand. His hand rests softly in the small of your back and gives it a soft pat  to nudge you towards your bags. You zip the leotard down again, so you can breathe and fiddle your phone out of your bag to check the time and slip your feet into your sneakers. You still had 20 minutes of your session left, how rude.

"She joining us?"

"I can hear you." You voice is sharp as you basically rip your bag off the ground and walk towards them. You pause beside Changbin shifting your weight to one side as you cross your arms over your chest and let your eyes wander over Yeonjun's figure,  tall and strong and delicate features, gender envy if you've ever seen it. God he was perfect, so hopelessly beautiful and and torturously seductive, strong figure dressed in a white shirt taught across his chest and sweats hanging dangerously low on his hips.

"I'll do it." You turn your head and face Changbin who tries his best to hide his panic.

"What? Join us for dinner?" Yeonjun scoffed.

"Oh, how lovely I've been upgraded from object to person worth addressing directly. No, I would rather not join. " You retort and turn to face Changbin and soften your features in a smile as you let your hand rest on the tan skin of his bicep. The same one that had effortlessly lifted you into the hair for two hours as if you were air.

"I'll text you."

Yeonjun watches you with an aghast smile as you push past and waltz out of the doors.

"Quite the partner you got there." Changbin had been watching your figure through the glass doors and smiled to himself.

"Sure is."

The door clicked shut behind them and Changbin tossed the hood of his black hoodie over his still slightly damp hair as they made their way out of the building.

"How's your training going?" Changbin inquired out of courtesy. Yeonjun had been breezing through the almost abandoned school hallways beside him almost without a worry.

"I think she'll claw my eyes out, maybe it'll be a good thing, then I can't see all the mistakes she's making." Yeonjun huffed his arms that he'd stretched up and above over his head flopping to his sides on frustration and Changbin laughed a little at that.

"How about you?"

"It's only been a day, but she's really not as bad as you make her seem. I've never met someone who works so hard in something she won't need." Changbin shoved his hands into his pockets as they make their way across the parking lot.

It was true. Despite your complaints about stretching, you'd let him run you through every part of the routine without any reluctance. Everytime he stopped and restarted, picking at a millisecond misstep, a finger a touch out of place, or an arm not soft enough, you'd let him do so without even so much as slight glimpse of reluctance. You'd take the critisism and focus on improving every single time, Jungkook had also managed to pick a character that suited your theatricality Yeonjun had previously criticised you for. You had even managed a lack of reaction at his fumbling in the different lifts, patiently letting him get used to it.

"That doesn't always make you good." Yeonjin pointed out as Changbin unlocked his car. Changbin had to keep himself from trying to rip his driver side door off at the sudden comment. Instead he takes a moment to pause as he leans against the car roof.

"What? Was that a little harsh?" Yeonjun said in a rather insincere tone from across the car roof.

"Get in the car." Changbin grumbles in answer.

"Forget about the evaluation for a second." Changbin mumbles through a mouthful of burger. It wasn't the best dietary choice but it had been a while he'd worked so hard for such a long duration of time, not because he had to make up for what you lacked but because your determination to do well fuelled him to do the same. Yeonjin was eating away at a plate of fries and looked up at his friend curiously.

"What do you think of YN?" Yeonjun pauses slightly.

There was no denying it, there wasn't many dancer's like you at Laurier, there was actually no other dancers like you. You were an enigma. Few would suffer through years of dance programs that weren't related to their focus, or even suffer through entrance exams in forms that weren't trained just to follow their dreams. Besides that, you held a seductive air, it was part of your muscular, curvier build that many of the female ballet dancer's lacked. You were stronger, your leaps and jumps far higher than most of the female student body and closely matching some of the boys in the classes best even. Your eyes were definitely what had caught Yeonjun's attention but not because they were a particular colour. Rather it was the firey emotion that constantly burned in them. You were passionate. Whenever his eyes met your sharp gaze he saw flames burn, gold and warm.  And he'd be lying if he didn't say he envied it, just a little.

"She's pretty."

Changbins brow raises as if implying, that's all?He knew Yeonjun to well and there was clearly more to the loaded statement.

"Fine, she's more than pretty, but does that really matter? Let's be honest neither of us have been big on locker room talk 'bin." Yeonjun says pointedly and Changbin nods pensively gazing up at the ugly florescent lighting in the dingy diner. He guessed that's maybe why Yeonjun had swiped Felix out of his grasp in an instant. Because Yeonjun never cared much to discuss whom his friends might be interested in. Either way, Changbin doesn't see Felix around anymore unless he passes by a room scheduled for the younger groups ballet sessions.

"I guess you're right. I'm just asking, because I like her shitty attitude and I know most of the girls are stuck up but her words have a bite to it that I think makes her different." Changbin says out loud and steals a fry from his friend who looks him on affronted. But the words are heavy on his ears. Yes the bite, fire. Yeonjun thought, fire that burns red and angry.

"You have the weirdest taste."

"Yah, we have the same taste so don't go around insulting me just yet." Changbin said and tossed a piece of lettuce at Yeonjun but it fell short next to his plate instead.

"Yeah well, you're on your own this time." Yeonjun scoffed and wore half smirk as he picked up the glass of ice water.

"Are you sure?" Changbin said softly his sharp chin resting on his hands as he stared at his friend, eyes narrowed. Yeonjun didn't like it. Like he knew that it was a desperate dismissal of obvious attraction. His critique of your horrible technique and inexperience was something he's used to brush off his crush in his first year at the school because how could you ever be what he wanted ? You sucked and had no friends, in all honesty you were extremely bad then and he couldn't help but wonder how the fuck you made it all the way to third year evaluation.

"I think you're lying." Changbin said with a tiny smirk one that most definitely had the devil hiding behind it.

"I don't think you just happened to remember her name Yeonjun." Changbin said and chuckled as he pulled his wallet out and dug out some cash that he put on the table to cover their dinner.

"You're delusional." Yeonjun hissed and shot him a glare as he collected his bag and hoodie. Changbin was halfway to the door when he turned to face his friend again.

"And you're a terrible liar."

The atelier was empty except for the three of you. The blonde was tall and lanky, built like a dancer himself but here you were, at a fashion school. When Changbin said  he knew someone who could help with costumes you hadn't expected this.  You hadn't expected him to drag you halfway across the city in a really nice car on a Saturday morning, picking you up with a bag  filled with a white tutu in your size and some craft items to take you out to a completely different art school.

"Changbin, I hate you."

"Come on! Hyunjin you have a costume design practical next semester and all you have to do is decorate a to and spray paint a white tutu red." Changbin tried to reason but the tall, handsome man remained unimpressed.

"I hate you." Hyunjin seems to stand his ground as he stares down his shorter friend, you bite down on your lip at the exchange and your eyes widen slightly as his glare lands on you.

"But I'll do it. Only since I'm poor and you're paying rich boy." Hyunjin held up a finger before dramatically sweeping long blonde hair out of his face. You feel a sigh of relief pass through your lips for some reason.

"Also your partner is stunning." Hyunjin said with a vapid flap of his one hand in the direction where you sat. You raise your brows and smile as Changbin shoots you a quick pained glare, "You'll have to give me her number so I can use her as a model in the future for a few projects."

You sit up a little straighter at the sound of that, Chin tilting up proudly.  It wasn't that you were insecure, that wasn't the case at all. It was just that you were constantly in an environment were the bone thin and light ballet dancer was the beauty ideal and you didn't match it. It was nice, getting out and being reminded that you're most definetly an enviable beauty for some.

"We'll do fittings at your school next week." Hyunjin huffed as he pulled out the things Changbin had brought along.

"Really?" Hyunjin holds up a black t shirt and Changbin shrugs.

"You're supposed to be a prince, I can't just make you un upgraded t-shirt!"

"I would like to state for the record, that I said that too." You raise your hand and Hyunjin slaps Changbin over the back of the head and you snicker that you hide behind a cough.

"Why won't you listen to her? You're a real piece of work."  Hyunjin shakes his head and lets out a frustrated huff before pulling the measuring tape around his neck and using a finger to tell Changbin to turn.

"It won't do, I'll make you a proper coat." Hyunjin started taking Changbins measurements, wen he said a number out loud you jumped realizing he was expecting you to write it down for him. You scramble and make your way over to the book on the table beside them writing down the numbers for him.

"Thank you for being such a wonderful assistant." Hyunjin says and his warm smile has your own lips tugging upwards.

"Anytime." you assure him and he surprises you as he takes your hand and plants a soft kiss on your knuckles before turning to face his friend.

"You. If you ever try to bring me a t-shirt and think you're overthrowing a prince with it again, I will choke you." Hyunjin scolds and you raise a brow at the title curiously.

"Prince?"

"Yes, its a nickname we gave Yeonjun since he has everything." Hyunjin explained.

"Everything?" You push and Hyunjin looks over at Changbin who gives a nod of encouragement.

"Yeonjuns always been a talented dancer and well, his family is pretty well off being some of the largest investors in the art community but he also has that wonderful scholarship that his dads company has at the school."

"It's his fathers company?" That was news to you, probably because you didn't have any friends to gossip with at the school.

"And everyone's okay with it?" You ask, your face unable to hide your obvious disgust.

"Well whats anyone going to do about it? Talk to Jeong? He's her prodigy." Hyunjin reasoned.

"But the students...", You try to reason and Changbins shake of his head shuts you up.

"Don't care, everyone wants to be his friend, fuck him or already has."

"On that solemn note, please leave so I can offer up my free time to this nightmare of a project." Hyunjin shoo's the two of you out.

Once you're buckled in the seat of the passenger side of Changbins car you wait patiently as he fiddles with the buttons on the stereo.

"What's your plans for today?" Changbin asks and you shrug.

"I don't have any, unless you want to train. In which case I'm fully booked." You can't help your smile as he cackles brightly.

"Wanna do something? I mean we haven't really had time to discuss any of our uh, approaches?" Changbin struggles to fine a subtle way to say revenge plot and this time its your turn to laugh.

"What did you have in mind?" Changbin grins and starts his car as an answer.

"Changbin I can't afford anything on this menu." You hiss with wide eyes and he waves you off, as if you weren't struggling to do the maths that would keep you from compromising your already strictly ramen noodle diet.

"It's my treat then." You can't help the grimace, what was it with these super rich art school kids. You sit back in the to nice chair and stare at his eyes wandering the menu.

"Why me?" His brows dip in question. "Why did you ask me to help you with the Yeonjun issue?"

An acknowledging nod signals his understanding but he's still quiet for a moment to long.

"Your a bit of an odd case. You seem to severely dislike him and well you are something he can't have."

"Please continue." He puts his menu down on the white table cloth gently before resting his chin on his intertwined fingers.

"The Choi's, as lovely and charitable as they are, expect  perfection perhaps not from everyone but definitely from their son." You sit upright in your seat, curiosity piqued.

"You aren't exactly what is considered to be daughter-in-law material and that's not because you aren't pretty enough because lets be honest you're gorgeous. It's simply because you aren't part of the family's close friends, specifically one of the shining stars." You can't help the blush tinting your cheeks at the compliment mid explanation and Changbin notices despite the extremely soft lighting casting a glow on everything, enough to give you a small smile and a coy head tilt.

"Yeonjun doesn't have a lot of options but his romantic escapades," Changbin breathes out a humourless chuckle, "Let's just say, that's how he rebels."

"That still doesn't explain my unattainability?" You raise a brow and sit back in your seat again.

Changbin reaches over the table, careful of the vase filled with bright orange flowers and takes one of your hands softly in his own, the action was odd but not enough to alarm you.

Yet.

"Yeonjun always wants to be the best and for a while, actually, too long he has been." Changbins eyes are trained on your hand, having turned it over so he could trace the folds and lines of your palm with his fingers.

"Y/N, it takes one simple challenge. A suggestion that he might not be the best and his pride would rule him. He'd be so focused on proving everyone that his station is deserved, that he is in fact the best,  that he'd be to blind to see his own downfall coming."

"He assumes that everyone has placed him on the same pedestal that he had placed himself on his entire life, so that the idea of someone not doing so doesn't exist to him."

Changbin looks up from your hand dark glare trained on your face.

"You don't like him, and he can't believe it."

"You like me more, would rather be partnered with anyone but him?"

You nod slowly to confirm that Changbins observation is correct.

"He can't have that. He'll become obsessed with proving that you're wrong in doing so." Changbins gaze is back on your palm, his soft tracing sending a ghost of shivers down your spine.

"So not only aren't you what his parents expect but you also seem to have a solid dislike for him. It wasn't the plan, honestly." Changbin looks up at you hand squeezing yours now as if it would convey his promise as truthful.

"But it sure is convenient." You say lowly and he nods, suddenly not so sure about how good of an idea it was asking for help. He wasn't sure if the blank mask you wore could because of inner turmoil, for all he knew his explanation could have completely changed your mind in helping him out. He lets go of your hand, sliding his own back slowly his eyes fixed on your face waiting for your next reaction.  What it would be, what he was waiting for he didn't know but it certainly wasn't what he had expected.

The soft chuckle wasn't unwelcome but it was definitely confusing.

"Wow, how does that saying go? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Yeonjun took that pretty seriously, huh?" Changbin doesn't fail to see the irony.

"Don't get me wrong,  we were friends and in some twisted way I'm sure we still are."

"But?"

"But I'm tired of losing to him." Changbin slinks back into his seat hands off the table and falling helplessly to his lap.

You encourage him to continue by pouring water from the jug on the table into his glass as if its a stiff drink, like the one he seems to need.

"There was this one guy. Fuck, was it bad. He's sweet and his cheeks would squish up and make it impossible to count the freckles that was all over his cheeks and nose. I wasn't even crushing, I practically skipped that whole step and boy did I make it obvious." He was sitting back up and he wore a half assed grin one that held more than its fair share of sadness.

"No one missed it, so either Yeonjun was impossibly blind or clearly was trying to make a point." Changbin resorted to finally reaching for his glass of water but simply opted for staring at the droplets running down the side of the glass.

"So he swooped in, charmed the living daylights out of him before I could blink, promptly broke his heart and now Felix doesn't speak to any of us anymore."

"Felix? As in Felix Lee?"  The description Changbin had given wasn't terribly subtle, but it was still somewhat of a surprise.

"Yeah and unfortunately my friend didn't just betray me he broke my heart without even thinking about it twice or having the decency of  asking if my puppy dog eyes meant something."

The revenge plot was starting to make sense and as much as you didn't like Yeonjun, Changbin might've let it slip that his opinion of your ballet abilities wasn't the highest. Of course sticks and stones, but you couldn't help growing fond of Changbin a bit of a Dark cloud that hid a bundle of charm and softness that had seeped past your cold exterior. Dammit you'd even consider him a friend, your first at Laurier.

He was still clearly worried that whatever it was he was planning you'd say no too, weary glances from his hands on his glass to you. You offer him a small grin to soothe his worries.

"Oh don't worry, you still have me in your corner Binnie."  You say gently before sitting forward. "Now, what's the plan exactly?"

Yeonjun watched as your hair followed with your twirls, the red and gold feathers bouncing along with the tutu as you playfully one two stepped into a pirouette with a big smile, your eyes alight with joy as you giggled. The pretty glimmering costume sparkled brightly and he couldn't help but think that your smile seemed blinding in comparison. He'd never seen it before, such happiness coming from you while doing ballet. Granted, you were doing a terrible job at practicing proper technique or steps but the freely stepping to releve and the flowing of your arms  with the glittering feather arm bands made you truly seem like a firebird, free and joyous and beautiful.

Changbin was right the character suited you and perhaps he had maybe judged your talents as a dancer too harshly.

Your playful twirls excited grins and entertained light hearted chuckles from your audience, Hyunjin even going so far as to give you applause for your impromptu show.

"Okay, okay. Come here pretty girl so we can check that the feathers don't come off or it gets in the way." Changbin stood up his coat  black coat with the golden embellishments and lapels open over his white t shirt and he held out his hand for you to except. With a playful tug he pulled you into his chest where you giggled softly. Changbin held you in a couple of releve twirls before the two of you got serious as the two of you turned serious and he manoeuvred around the costume you to lift you as previously practiced.

Jealousy, it bubbled up inside of Yeonjun like a black sticky tar at the sight of you and one of his closest friends so comfortable with each other, in synchronization as if you two had known each other for years and not only two or three weeks.

This crush, or at least the acknowledgement was becoming dangerous. He was starting to fall back into his regular patterns, the ones he knew all to well. Looking for a specific head of hair in a crowd, a black zipped down leotard, eyes that burned with hellfire, without even thinking about it, second nature almost. He was on a downhill drop to being absolutely infatuated and this new version of you, free and happy it was only stoking the hearth in his heart. It wasn't helping his cause.

For once he felt like he'd lost to Changbin.

Be it because he knew you so well, or because he had the burden of being your partner or perhaps because he was the one to witness your joy or perhaps instigate it.

He'd never really been sure what incited your icy exterior and furious glares in his direction. He'd avoided you for most years  but now he was wondering if rather it was the other way around and why it was bothering him that you would.

He'd never considered himself to be narcissistic and yet, what would force you of all people to stay so far away from him? Few who weren't exes and even then few of those actively tried to avoid Yeonjun in the way he was quickly piecing together that you had. Finally it would seem you were in arms reach, not so far away. Changbin was his link to you now, he might just have a shot at pulling you closer, pulling you towards him, the same way you had started pulling him towards you.

The night had started off wild,with too many  beers and too many soju bottles littering the countertop of Wooyoungs apartment when the three of them left. That it was crazy getting more when they met up with a few other s but he didn't realize it would result in this.

"Yeonjun whats your deal man?" Wooyoung said bright smile and cheerful giggle following after as he slung an arm over his much taller friends shoulders and pulled him into a hug, never scared of affection but it was too much. It was a lot with the buzz and the loud music and the smoke filled air.

"I don't have a deal." Yeonjun grumbled but didn't even try to shove his friend off of him.

"He's just mad that my dance partner doesn't like him." Changbin said with a teasing lilt but that obnoxious little smirk was rubbing him wrong. This time he did shove Wooyoungs arm off of him as he stepped closer and peered down at Changbin, bare of the grin he'd previously worn. He wasn't tilting his head back to meet Yeonjuns stare no instead e simply looked up through his lashes his dark glare daring Yeonjun to  do what he so desperately wanted too, knowingly.

"Admit it, you're jealous." Changbin said softly the same smirk growing as he knew his words hit true to their mark. He could tell by the way Yeonjun stiffened.

"You can't have her, she doesn't want you." His words were barely a whisper but the way Yeonjuns anger was zeroing in on his friend, blocked out all other sounds, "And nothing you do will change her mind."

"Because she doesn't care and guess what? You aren't as fucking great as you think you are." Yeonjun shoved Changbin back and was ready to swing when someone pulled him back to no avail as he stepped closer to Changbin who promptly stopped him from landing any hits as he took a hold of his wrists before both of them were promptly ripped apart.

"Go cool off!" Wooyoung practically pushed Yeonjun into one of their other friends who was standing behind him as he pulled him away from Changbin who was steadied with a firm hand on Wooyoungs chest .

"Go!" Wooyoung voiced again, louder and Yeonjun ripped himself away as he shoved his way through the thick crowd.

This place had been playing tricks on his mind since he got here, what had brought Changbin to suggesting this place from their usual spots?

The energy was strange here, it was something other from just dancing in the air. No here, the thickness of lust and sex seemed to hang in the air. It was starting to make him act up in ways he never would've dreamed of.

Yeonjun swept the cold water over his face. This was outrageous he'd never even thought of picking a fight with Changbin at least not physically.  He breathed out sigh before sweeping the damp black tresses and back out of his face he straightened only to be met by the sight of you. He must be really drunk to be hallucinating now. He blinked hard and realized that it wasn't a hallucination. A bright yellow fish darted across his vision and his brain caught up with his vision. The men's room was separated from the women's by a bright fish tank, one that stretched its length glowing bright and filled with an array of both large and small colourful fish.

You haven't noticed him, eyes trained on the small compact in your hand as you reapplied the lipstick shade you had selected to wear for the evening.

It wasn't love at first sight. No, he'd seen you before, on numerous different occasions but now...

The sight of you sobered him up more than the cool water ever could, hair that was usually pulled back now framing your face, figure graced in a short white dress , with a generous neckline much like that leotard you favoured, the golden lighting above the individual sinks lighting up your skin made you glow.

It definitely wasn't love but something had changed, maybe it was him finally admitting his pining for you.

Your eyes caught his as soon as you snapped the compact shut, not a hint of surprise dawning on your features.

Instead you hold his stare as you put everything back into your small clutch a ghost of a smile on your face as you step back from the glass and walk away, only breaking the silent battle when the door hides your figure.

Yeonjun darts out of the bathroom and immediately seeks the figment of his imagination his head must of conjured because it was impossible, that you'd appear here, in the midst of all his way to high strung out emotions. He caught a glance of your figure sashaying through the crowds that seemed to move aside at the meer sense of your presence, everyone making space for you as you pass, to afraid to even graze themselves against you. Yeonjun squeezes through the gyrating figures,  tall long body squeezed out and pushed out of the way, his idea to follow in your wake becoming exceptionally difficult with each surge of the bass and bright flare of  light. White strobes creating stop motion images of the people dancing around him.

As he finally escapes the dancefloor he spots your figure leaning up against the bar, Changbin leaning over it as he whispers something in your ear that tempts a beautiful grin to your lips. Yeonjun immediately pushes away the ugly head of anger that threatened to instigate another fight and plastered on a smirk before sliding in beside the pair of you.

It was strange seeing him through the fish tank damp black strands hanging over his heavy lidded eyes and pouty lips parted aghast. You'd never seen him in anything other than sweats or dance clothes, you would be lying if you didn't say the white muscle tank didn't look good on him, long lean arms, toned enough that as he leaned against the sink you could see the way the muscles in his shoulders moved and now you could see he had paired it with some black jeans that came up high enough to accentuate  his enviably tiny waist.

"Changbin, sorry for interrupting but I'd like to invite Y/N to the dancefloor?" His eyes stayed glued to your face and you dared a glance towards Changbins whos dark analytical gaze encouraged you to play the game.

"And why would I dance with you?" You tease, acting coy as you fiddle a strand of hair around your index finger he bites as he leans closer with his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Well I don't believe we've ever had the pleasure of being partners and well it might be best in a space you'd be comfortable." He leans back with a grin one that so obviously says he's proud of his little insult.

"Is that so?" You barely keep the snappiness out of your tone as you glare him down. Yeonjun tries to suppress the chills the look is giving him. You hand your purse over to Changbin and walk past him a shove at his shoulder, your heels making you tall enough to dare the push without it seeming pathetic. Yeonjun chuckles incredulous before turning on his heels to catch up with your long strides, by the time he's close enough to reach you he realizes you've managed to find people that seem to be your own friends judging by their friendly smiles and the way they made space for you the song the DJ was currently playing resembled dance hall and all though he was aware that his mind severely undersold your dancing abilities he wasn't expecting the sight in front of him. With not a single care for the shortness of the dress or the vulgarity of the moves your hips seemed to lead your body in a seductive rhythm that had Yeonjun staring even if he was sure it was inappropriately. Every time you caught his eyes, your grin told him he'd lost. He didn't even stand a chance to start with. He would've had better luck in the dance studio.

It felt good, a different kind of thrill. Shutting him up even if it was for just a little while, especially after you heard what his opinion was of your dancing ability.

He trailed you back to the bar and with a defeated smile watched you order a drink.

"I have severely underestimated you, I apologize." Yeonjun says with that same small grin and a shake of his head and you beam.

"Apology accepted." You chuckle and brush your hair out of your face as you watch him.

"I really messed up." Yeonjun bites down on his bottom lip and you force your eyes away from his plump pouty lips to his eyes.

"Yes you did." You agree and he chuckles brightly and loudly.

"I meant," He steps closer, leaning down lips brushing up against your ear as he lowers his voice,"If I had just been honest with myself, you might have been doing those moves on me." He pulls back and your head is a whirlwind of thoughts. Honest with himself?  What was that supposed to mean? Either way it didn't matter, your stomach and well other parts of your body were fluttering dangerously at the implications of his words. Your drink arrives and so does Changbin who saddles up to your side comfortably, his arm wrapping around your waist and you let him so you can lean into his strong body and take some pressure of your feet in their heels. Yeonjuns gaze darkens.

"I'm happy we came, this place is way cooler than the uptight clubs we always go to." Changbin announces and Yeonjuns brow dips, he didn't think this place was all that great but judging by the sweat that was dotting his friends forehead, the music and his chosen partners were the reasons behind his high praise.

Your butterflies still hadn't calmed and the alcohol made you dare the chance.

"You finally ready to be my dance partner properly?" You shoot a grin in Yeonjuns direction, one he missed because he was busy staring at Changbins arm around your waist.

"Yeonjun?" You call and it finally seems to click you were talking to him.

"Of course." He dares a grin and bows slightly as he offers his hand formally, you scoff and with a roll of your eyes take the hand offered. He laces his fingers through yours and pulls you away from Changbin's grip only letting go to hold your hands up so you could spin.

One thing you realized,  Yeonjun was a sore loser. He'd stepped into your space as the songs continued to switch through the mix list, this only resulted in him proving his own ability to follow a beat in time with your movements. Pressed closer together the air only got stickier, and you could feel the cold drops of sweat running down your spine as time was lost to you and apparently all form of  rational thought too. It was only when a tender but heavy kiss found the back of your neck that you realized, you were dancing with the enemy in a way that could possibly have you arrested for public indecency. You took a step away and turned steeling your gaze so you didn't look like the deer in headlights you had suddenly become.

Because as much as shutting Yeonjun up was fun this was making you want to find out if there was other ways to have fun with him, you couldn't promise yourself you wouldn't end up in a more compromising position with him and that was definitely not the plan. You eye him for a moment his surprised expression, hair hangning in his eyes or matted against his forehead, in a similar manner to how the white tank was sticking to his chest hand reaching out to grab your hand again. You press past a couple and dissapear back to the bathroom.

So this was how people got swept up in the hurricane Yeonjun was. Distracted by the pretty lashes, sharp eyes that devoured you whole and those terribly soft lips. Ghosts of his fingers ran over your body, everywhere he had dared to touch so surely, the spot on the back of your neck burning at the memory of  the kisses weight. You dared a look into the floor length mirror parallel to the door you'd rushed through. He'd left you a mess, sticky with sweat and smudged mascara around your eyes, breathless and hair messy. You couldn't help but wonder what power it is he possessed to so easily dishevel your appearance.  You purposefully rub at the dark circles under your eyes and dare to pat some cold water to your neck to collect yourself before entering the fray again. It wasn't hard to find him, your body now drawing towards him like a magnet as if he was the sun, tugging you into his atmosphere, but the body plastered to him quickly stops you. Life had a lovely way of reminding you why you'd avoided the beauty, his gravitational pull always seemed to have room for more. With a scoff and a reality check you press your way towards the man that still had your bag. Changbin was stuck in a booth with some other friends your purse on the table in front, whomever he'd been dancing with earlier nowhere to be seen.

"I'm leaving." Changbin shoots up as you grab your purse.

"I'll come with you." He insists and just as you're ready to politely decline a voice interrupts.

"Y/N?" Yeonjun is beside you a hand on your shoulder, brows furrowed as if concerned but a quick peak over his shoulder makes you aware the guy he'd found wasn't hanging to far off . You shrug of his hand and fix your eyes on Changbin.

"That'd be great." Changbin follows after you, hand on the small of your back as the pair of you trail towards the exit leaving Yeonjun to watch after with an empty pang in his chest. He tried to will his feet to move after you but it didn't instead, he stood glued eyes following over the crowd as Changbin accompanied you out the door with his arm around your shoulder and you tucked into his side.

Yeonjun had been left to observe you from far away for the final week before the showcase, in passing when you came in to the studio with Changbin after his own practice slot. You didn't acknowledge his presence, instead focusing on the music or your practice tutu or your pointes instead of him.

But he chalked it down to you simply trying to focus on what was to come.

When he finally did get to see you it was minutes before your peformance, dressed in gold and red. Hair slicked back and a headband of red and gold feathers over it, even with the light from the stage you glowed, shimmered with beauty and charm as you warmed up, smiling at the stage hands that passed you. He came up beside you and for the first time in a week your eyes fell on him.

"YN, I just wanted to say goodluck and well I was wondering if when we could go dancing together again?" Yeonjun was leaning up against the bar you were busy stretching on.

You laugh soft enough to not bother the other performance but still full and hearty, Yeonjun raises a brow he hadn't said anything funny.

"Sorry its just, well you must be blind." Yeonjun takes a step back as he watches her lips quirk upwards. It was just the two of them and the stage hands, Changbin was in the other wing waiting for the curtains for the rendition of the dance of the snowflakes to end. No one to witness the mask that seemed to fall away from the beautifully painted face.

"You know at first I was jealous of you. Perfect, you. With the perfect scholarship, not that you need it because of your daddy. Then I was angry because how could you waste time like that and still be so good. Well now...", Firey eyes ringed with read eyeshadow and golden flakes, disdainfully drags over his figure from head to toe.

"Now I'm just disappointed."

"Yeonjun I hate you, but not because you ever even had the chance to break my heart because lets be honest I'm not half as dumb as you think." You stop stretching as you step closer towards him where he was now frozen in place.

"No, I hate you because you have everything,  all that you'd need to be the best but you're to distracted to ever reach your full potential."

"I don't need this, I'm a modern dancer, to contemporary for the genre anyway. I don't give a fuck about Jeong." Yeonjun sucks in a breath not at the crass words but rather the quotation of his own critique of your abilities, "... but you, you're her little prodigy and you have to do well, you have a scholarship and a family name that you need to maintain. My inability to be perfect means nothing. " You brush an invisible dust particle off his exposed shoulder before continuing.

"Your imperfections though, every single little mistake, every little misstep everyone out there will be looking for exactly that, they're waiting for your downfall and me?" You look up at him blazing eyes staring at him from behind bright red eyeshadow, "well, I'm praying for it."

Even if Yeonjun wasn't speechless he wouldn't have been able to actually retaliate because a 30 second call was made for your stage. Your grin didn't falter in fact it grew to the big stage smile every dancer wore while performing as you turned away from his figure as the pair on stage passed by you at the entrance of the wing you were waiting in.  The lights on the stage lit up as Changbin entered the stage, the black velveten coat and golden decorations glimmered under the light bright and bold, but it casted a bright glow around your figure, lighting up the red and gold feathers of your tutu in a warm light only growing brighter as you started your dance onto the stage. Yeonjun eyes were glued to you, the performance that of which was visible from where he stood taking his breath away. It might've been the lack of oxygen or perhaps it was shock, the fogginess that clouded the edges of his vision as his eyes followed the soft movements of your arms, the bounce of the tutu as you leaped through the air, even the arch of your spine as Changbin hoisted you up and over his head, held you in his arms time and time again as the battle of freedom between the firebird an he prince commenced. He saw the pretty picture of sorrow and torment as the Firebird fought to break free and the prince with his own battle of caging the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in and ultimately be the cause of its death.  The longing on the prince's face as she disappears and leaves him with only a single mark of her, a red feather.

It's only then he feels the insistent tug of his partner at his arm, trying to pull him closer towards the exit of the wing for his own performance. Yeonjun tried to force himself to focus but his eyes landed on the pair a moment before walking onto the stage. Your body was being squeezed in a joyous hug, Changbin cheering silently as he spun you around, your own smile was bright, big and effervescent. Blinding just like the stage lights that obscured the audience, even the front row he knew was reserved for lecturers and special guests. He could only hear the blood rushing in his ears that's probably why he missed the first few counts. He was  behind now, muscle memory kicking in but never being enough to chase the fog far enough to catch up but only to make him more aware of the battle he was fighting to get back on beat. His body wouldn't let him, it was like there was a really strange weight keeping his legs and arms from moving right, but his head seemed to be floating, miles away from here.  Off in the wings where you had been smiling, happy in someone else's arms. Smiling as your lips move, your eyes on fire as his world falls apart a little, by little as you utter those words, those prayers , those hopes of imperfections  coming true with every note and every misstep and every delayed catch of his partners hand, he can feel it. The stuffy auditorium, how it was starting to suffocate him, the bitter taste of disappointment, of failure on the tip of his tongue as the shallow breaths passed over his dry lips and he inhaled the small particles of dust that everyone could see in the bright lights that was shining on every mistake he made.

As those curtains closed and the lack luster applause was still fuzzy to his ears, blood still rushing through it. He realized you'd wished his worse fears upon him, that they'd come true .

That those velveteen curtains blocking out the stage lights, was like the sun disappearing, that you'd burned so bright for the brief moment he'd set his sights on you. So bright he didn't realize how dark it would be when his downfall came.

[suddencolds]

I don’t go here, but I really like how you’ve written Diluc and Kaeya, so: lost voice for the bingo?

Thank you so much for the request!! Also, thank you for reading despite not knowing the fandom, I’m really happy you enjoyed nonetheless! <3 I hope this is okay!

—

Familiarity | Genshin Impact

Kaeya loses his voice, and Diluc is more considerate than expected. | prompt fill for [this]!

—

Diluc, despite himself, knows Kaeya’s order.

It’s not that he’s paid attention—just that Kaeya’s presence in the tavern isn’t exactly easy to miss, whether he’s here drinking with the knights or striking up a conversation with the regulars. Diluc knows his order, but he also never makes it in advance; it’s always been easier not to acknowledge that he’s become something of a constant in Diluc’s life again—predictable, and consistent to the point that it’s almost cruel.

Kaeya’s here alone tonight, seated at the counter, strangely quiet. Some of the knights are drinking at one of the tables in the back, talking loudly enough to suggest they’re well past drunk. Kaeya doesn’t join them. Diluc busies himself with polishing the glasses they leave behind, finds himself pleasantly undistracted, and relishes the silence for the first hour and a half.

It’s only when the last of the Knights stands up to leave that he starts to think something might be wrong.

Kaeya still hasn’t ordered, and he hasn’t said so much as a goodbye to the knights, which implies that he’s here for some other reason—a loaded conversation with Diluc, maybe, or a proposition for the Darknight Hero’s involvement in some new ploy, neither of which Diluc wants to be discussing right now.

“That seat is for patrons only,” he says.

Kaeya’s eyes snap to his. He smirks. “Oh? Protective about the seating arrangements, are we?” “If you’re not here to drink,” Diluc says, “I’m sure you can find a better place to spend the night.”

“Fine, fine,” Kaeya says lightly. “One Death After Noon, please.”

He’s speaking more quietly than usual. There’s a dullness to his eyes, too, when Diluc looks back at him, blinking.

It’s… frustrating, to say the least. Kaeya is never entirely straightforward—he’s never as honest as he had been when they were both children, but he must be here for a reason, and he isn’t doing either of them any favors by not speaking up about it.

“What do you want from me?”

“Oh? What makes you think I want something from you?”

“You didn’t order anything until I asked,” Diluc says.

Kaeya smiles cryptically, resting his chin on one hand. “Maybe I just came here to unwind.”

“Nonsense. You haven’t spoken to anyone all night.”

“So you’ve been watching me?”

Diluc scoffs. “You are usually the most talkative customer here. I would have to have been exceptionally unobservant to not have noticed your silence.”

It’s not a secret that Kaeya isn’t here to see him. He’s here because it’s one of two taverns in Mondstadt, and because moreover, it’s a more popular spot for the Knights than the Cat’s Tail is, for days when he’s here more for conversation than for the drinks. Even when he’s here for strategic reasons, though—on nights when he’s enticing whoever he’s with to drink just enough to loosen their tongue—he always orders something for himself.

Tonight is an anomaly. But Kaeya doesn’t offer an explanation for it, and Diluc has never been one to press, so he occupies himself with procuring a bottle of white wine from the upper shelf.

Behind him, Kaeya coughs, but the sound is a little muffled. Diluc turns, instinctively, half expecting that Kaeya’s trying to direct his attention to something.

But Kaeya merely raises an eyebrow.  “Does my presence bother you so much?”

“No,” Diluc says. “If you are waiting for someone to show up...”

“I’m not.”

Diluc goes back to pretending that a drink he can make in his sleep is taking up all of his attention. Behind him, Kaeya sniffles—quietly enough that it almost goes unnoticed, except for the fact that the tavern’s empty except for the two of them, so late at night on a weekday.

At first, Diluc thinks—hopes—that he’s misheard. But then Kaeya sniffles again, loud enough to be confirmation, and then the silence suspends itself for a soft intake of breath.

Diluc thinks that if he grips the wine glass in his hands any tighter, it’s going to fracture. Is Kaeya… crying?

What could possibly warrant a reaction like this? Why here, of all places—so openly in front of Diluc, who he’s not supposed to trust? But before he can think more about it, there’s another sharp, desperate breath behind him, followed by—

“hihH’DXxt!” A pause, and then another gasp. Diluc whirls around, surprised, just in time to see Kaeya’s eyes flutter shut, as he pitches forward with none of his usual grace, roughly enough to jostle the cups on the countertop.

“hIH’ISCHHh-uu!”

It sounds rough, and... miserable, really, like it’s somehow both desperately necessary and barely relieving.

This is certainly… unexpected.

“...Bless you,” Diluc says hesitantly, if only to break the silence. Kaeya looks up at him, blinking distractedly.

“Thanks. You’ll have to excuse me,” he says—quieter than usual again, except now Diluc realizes it’s probably more out of necessity than anything—Kaeya’s voice is nearly shot, now that he’s paying attention.

Diluc turns back around—mercifully, perhaps—and tries to pay attention to the precise ratio of dandelion wine to white wine in the glass he’s holding.

It’s not long before Kaeya’s breath is hitching again.

“Hh… - hIiH! hHh - hH’ESHhh’uu!”

It’s so desperate and vocal. Kaeya lets out an exhausted sigh, reaching across the table to grab a handful of napkins. If he’s been doing this all day, it’s no wonder that he’s lost his voice.

“Are you getting sick?” Diluc says, though he suspects he knows the answer.

Kaeya laughs. “Why? Are you worried?”

“Only deciding whether I’ll have to wipe down the tables when you leave,” Diluc answers.

“Don’t worry. I assure you, you won’t catch this.”

“You are not doing a good job of convincing me of that.”

Kaeya hums, slumping further in his seat. He’s moved so that his chin’s resting on his hand again, but now it looks like less of a casual gesture. He just looks tired.

“I’ll be careful, I promise.”

It’s barely even a retort. Diluc stares at the half-finished drink in front of him. Then he pushes the cup aside so that it rests on the other side of the countertop, leaving the space in front of him clear. “You shouldn’t be drinking like this.”

Kaeya watches him warily, suppressing a shiver. “Thought the wine would warm me up.”

“You’re cold,” Diluc realizes.

By the way Kaeya’s eyebrows furrow in response, Diluc can tell he hadn’t meant to admit it so plainly. “I didn’t say that.”

Diluc ignores him again in favor of swiping a mug from the cupboards. Kaeya sniffles, sinking lower in his seat to rest his head on his forearms. Has he been so tired all afternoon? Diluc hadn’t expected that he’d do something like this—just sit here quietly all afternoon, waiting for someone to notice. Diluc can count the number of times Kaeya’s fallen ill on two hands, with room to spare. Back when they’d been close he’d sought Diluc’s presence whenever he fell ill, but it’s been years since then, and Kaeya is exceptionally popular—Diluc is sure anyone in Mondstadt would be happy to keep him company. This isn’t the same.  

Kaeya’s eyes are lightly shut when Diluc sets the mug in front of him finally, still steaming. Diluc considers tapping him on the shoulder—or checking his forehead, or something—and then decides against it. “Apple cider,” he says, instead. “Don’t burn yourself, it’s hot.”

Kaeya opens his eyes, sits up. Diluc pushes the mug towards him, and his fingers curl around the sides. He shivers again, lifts the mug with both hands, and takes a tentative sip.

“Adelinde says it’s good for your throat,” Diluc says, unsure of what else to add. “Or… it’s what she always tells me, in the winter.”

“How thoughtful of you,” Kaeya murmurs. He coughs into a fist, his shoulders trembling with the effort. “It’s good. Was I asleep long?

“The tavern closes in twenty.”

“Is that so?” He sniffles, his eyes watering as he sets the mug down hurriedly, ducking into his elbow. “Hh— hIIH’ESCHhuu! hH!… snf, sorry to keep you, then.”

He says it without a trace of sarcasm, which feels… unfitting, if anything. Whatever Kaeya does, he does it unapologetically.

Diluc regards him for a moment. “It’s my shift. I’d be here anyway.”

“You’d be closing up if not for me,” Kaeya says, which isn’t untrue. “I’ve been here long enough.”

The why goes unaddressed. Diluc isn’t sure why Kaeya’s here—Kaeya is unpredictable, but he’s also deliberate. Diluc doesn’t believe he’d be here for no reason—the tavern is warm enough, and crowded enough in the evenings to be pleasantly distracting, but that’s about where the benefits end. Kaeya—where’s he’s hunched over the counter, exhausted and shivering—looks like he’d be more comfortable anywhere else.

“Are the Knights aware that they’re assigning you too much work?”

Kaeya averts his glance. “It’s nothing like that.”

“When is the last time you’ve slept?”

This time, he smiles, raising an eyebrow. “Concerned?”

It’s an accusation that Diluc would normally dispute. Now, he settles for crossing his arms. “You’re exhausted.”

“I don’t see why that’s relevant... hh — hH-ESHhh-uu! We’ve had more domains than ever to cover, is all. Nothing out of the ordinary, but you’ll understand why I couldn’t... ” Kaeya stifles a yawn which he half-hides, embarrassed, behind one hand. “I couldn’t afford to take time off even if I wanted to…” His eyelashes flutter shut, his shoulders tensing up in trepidation as he gasps, jerking forward. “Hh! hiIIH... hiih... hh—IIISHHh’uu! hiihh’iIhTSSHHew!”

Sheepishly, Kaeya lifts the drink to his face, carefully enough that Diluc almost misses the wince when he swallows. Almost. His throat must be sore sore; it explains why he hasn’t been talking much.

“If Jean had a good look at you, I’m sure she’d send you home,” Diluc says. The look on Kaeya’s face, in response to that, is telling enough. “You’ve been avoiding her, then.”

“Jean has enough on her plate already.”

“So you have no reservations about lying to the Acting Grandmaster.”

Kaeya shrugs. “I didn’t lie to her. I simply neglected to inform her that I was unwell.” He trails off, blinking dazedly. “Hhih… hIIH’EZCHHuu! Snf… HIHH’IZCHh-uu!” Sevens above. Even his sneezes sound wrung-out, as if they’re using up the last reserves of the voice he’s about to lose.

Kaeya sighs, reaching for the bar napkins. “On second thought...” He swallows again, eyebrows drawing tighter. “Maybe wiping down the tables would be a good idea after all.”

“I was planning to, anyway,” Diluc says. Kaeya has always been dramatic. But if this is all some ridiculous ploy to get him to worry, it’s working. “It would be bad for business if you managed to infect all of my patrons.” Kaeya huffs a quiet laugh, which immediately turns into a particularly harsh coughing fit.

“Is it helping?” Diluc asks.

“What?” Kaeya’s voice breaks on the syllable, and Diluc falters.

“The drink. With your sore throat.”

“It’s working wonders,” Kaeya says, almost convincingly nonchalant, if not for the quietness with which it’s delivered. “I’m sure that by tomorrow, I’ll be good as new.”

He can’t seriously believe that. “Don’t tell me you actually intend on going to work.”

Kaeya tilts his head in question. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m feeling much better now.”

“You’re not.”

The smile on his face falters, gives way for something a little more honest. “You’re right,” Kaeya admits, after a pause. “I’m not. But it’s fine, you know. It’s just a cold. You don’t have to—” He stops again to cough, his shoulders shaking. “—be so worried.”

“Archons,” Diluc snaps. “I know. Stop talking.”

Kaeya opens his mouth—probably to protest, but Diluc cuts him off before he can speak.

“You’re losing your voice,” he points out, by way of explanation. “If you keep pushing yourself, you’ll postpone your recovery for days. How do you think Jean would like it if you ended up bedridden?”

There’s no response to that.

“If it is customary for a captain to work through illness, it’s no wonder that the Knights are always so terribly inefficient.”

Kaeya’s breath hitches, and he ducks voicelessly into his elbow, his eyelids fluttering shut. There’s a beat, and then—

“hHH’DSCHhh!”

...there’s that, too. Diluc crosses his arms. “Not to mention, if you are contagious...”

“I’m very careful,” Kaeya whispers, which is an irritating workaround to Diluc’s rule. But it doesn’t seem like it hurts his voice—what’s left of it, at least—so Diluc lets it slide. “You underestimate my abilities. It’s just—”

“A cold. I’m aware.” He turns aside, moving to pour the half-made Death After Noon into the sink. Kaeya, if anything, is a good liar. Even if Diluc somehow gets him to promise he won’t push himself too hard, Diluc doubts he’ll take it seriously.

It was easier, he thinks, when he’d been away for those three years, too distant and too caught up in Fatui affairs to care about Kaeya’s destructively selfish tendencies. Now they’re distant, less than acquaintances, but he sees Kaeya everywhere, and on days like this it feels almost cruel. It’s like they have some sort of mutual agreement to play strangers. Like caring too much would be overstepping.

“Just… don’t get worse,” he says resignedly. For once, Kaeya is silent behind him. When Diluc turns around to take his cup from him, Kaeya’s expression is unreadable.

“I’ll try my best,” Kaeya says, uncharacteristically sincere. Diluc really wants to believe him.

[jordanstrophe]

A Change of Heart

CW:  Whumper turned Caretaker, whumpees being sold, harsh caretaker, cauterizing a wound, jumping off a cliff, drowning, blood, restraints, captivity, gag, manhandling, fever, puncture wound. It has a good ending though, don’t worry! 

(Ehe... This was supposed to be shorter) 

Next

Whumpee pressed themselves against the corner of the small room, nose tucked in the corner. They could feel the movement of the other whumpees scurrying around them, frantically trying to find a weak point in the cell they were all crammed in. Whumpee almost wanted to join them, but was too scared to come out of their corner. 

A loud clanging sound echoed throughout the room, as everyone froze. Several people strode in and stood at the bars.

“See anything you like?” One smirked. Everyone was huddled up on the far side of the room, cowering, trying to look as small as possible. Whumpee refused to even show their face.  

“That one, in the corner.” A voice sneered. Whumpee’s blood froze, their heart jolting, their body tensing. Maybe they didn’t mean them, maybe it was the other corner. They tried to convince themselves it wouldn’t be them, as the bars rattled open. Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut, pressing themselves as firmly as they could into the corner. No one had grabbed them yet... So that was a good-

 Two hands shot out, wrapping around Whumpee’s arms, as they let out a desperate yelp. The hands wrapped around their waist, lifting them off their feet out the cell, grunted, struggling against the hands that drug them out.

They didn’t have much energy, but they used whatever they had to at least give whoever had a hold on them a hard time. A gag was shoved between their teeth, their frantic whimpering turned to muffled sobs, as their arms were bound behind their back. 

“Be good.” A voice hissed, ruffling their hair as they heaved open the main door.

The bright sun shone, blinding their vision, they could feel the wet grass brushing against their bare feet, as they were forced to keep walking forward. They rapidly blinked, looking up to see that they were being walked to a car parked waiting for them, several people leaning against it with their arms crossed, a malicious smirk spread across their face, staring at them with hungry eyes.

Whumpee looked around, trying to find help in the eyes of the guards stationed around, refusing to look in their direction with a cold face. They could see a cliffside not far from them, with the sound of running water. Could there be water below that cliff?

They would rather find out then go with these people.

Whumpee eased their pace, matching the speed of the guard walking them, trying to lure them into a false sense of security. They walked like this for a moment, until they were just lined up with the peak of the cliff. It was now or never. As soon as the guard loosened the grip, Whumpee bolted full force, managing to rip themselves from the guard’s grasp. 

‘’Hey!” They yelled, trying to grab Whumpee, but they ducked from their hand, taking off towards the cliff. The could hear the footsteps slowing down behind them the closer they got to the cliff, to the point they were standing at the very tip of the edge.

“Come on down now kid! You don’t want to do that.” A voice called. Whumpee whirled around to see about a dozen guards in a circle around them, not daring to get any closer. Whumpee gave them a terrified look, like a deer in headlights, they would beg for freedom if they didn’t have the gag shoved tightly in their mouth. 

One of the guards dared outstretch their arm, reaching for Whumpee, as full panic settled in, as they took a step back...

They were engulfed in the cold wind stinging at their body, being driven full force to the ground beneath them. Their vision was unfocusable, as they didn’t know where they were anymore. Where was up? Where was down? It was like time froze in that short moment, until the freezing cold water taking them brought them back to reality. 

They gasped, which was their first mistake, as they inhaled water, their body shocked from the freezing water. Good news at least, there was indeed water at the bottom of the cliff. Bad news, they were now in water with their hands tied beneath their back.

It wasn’t long till their knees hit the bottom of the pond, the dirt and sand sticking in their skin. They instinctively pushed as hard as they could, trying to get to the surface, but they didn’t make it... They looked up, the waterline looked so close, but it was so far. The water reflecting in the sunlight looked so beautiful, so promising as It slowly became darker, as their vision faded.

“Wh-what do we do? They jumped! They actually jumped!” The guards called. They all stood frozen in shock. Whumper bolted down the trail, ducking underneath a branch as they sprinted downhill. The adrenaline was taking over as this point, as they made it to the pond as fast as they could. They wrenched their work coat off throwing it behind them as they dove into the pond. They couldn’t see much, it was dark and foggy, but they kept on looking.

They broke the water surface, taking a deep gasping breath, they still couldn’t find them. Maybe they made it out and took off into the woods? But how did they do that with their bound wrists? They dove one last time, till they finally felt a material brush against their fingers as they grabbed their shirt and pulled them out. They drug their unconscious body out of the water, dropping to their knees into the dirt beside Whumpee, checking for breathing.

Silence.

They pulled the soaked gag from Whumpee’s lips, gripping the back of their palm and pushed on their chest, muttering numbers as they counted how many breaths they forced them to take. Whumpee finally grasped, pushing themselves to their side while coughing up water. Whumper huffed in relief, wiping their brow, their eyes burning from the water. 

Whumper grabbed their chin, forcing them to look at them, with a finger in their face.

“Don’t you ever try anything like that again, do you hear m-...” Whumper trailed off when they realized the liquid surrounding Whumpee isn't water anymore.

It was blood.

Whumpee seemed oblivious to it, as they stared up at them with desperate pleading eyes. 

“Shoot...” Whumper muttered, hanging their head low. They knew nothing good would happen to them if they took Whumpee back in this condition. 

“Please! Don’t take me back! Just let me go, I’ll disappear!” They begged. They both turned their head towards the trail, as distant voices could be heard shouting in the distance. They both slowly looked at each other, frozen. Whumper sighed in defeat, struggling to their feet, grabbing Whumpee and pulling them up. 

“Listen kid, you stay close to me, listen to me, and do everything I say, do you understand?” Caretaker took a firm grasp on their shoulders, forcing them to face them. Whumpee quickly nodded their head, legs trembling as they looked down. They gasped when they saw the blood dripping down their body. ‘'Na ah! Eyes up, I need you moving.” Caretaker tsked, taking Whumpee’s arm and pulling them into the woods.

Caretaker knew they were throwing a lot away, their job, friends, whole life probably, but they knew what would happen if they brought Whumpee back, but they couldn’t just let that happen. 

They pulled Whumpee through the woods as carefully as they could, as they staggered around behind them. Caretaker would have to patch them up at some point, but they had to get as far away as they could right now.

They walked for what felt like hours, in reality, it was about ten minutes. Whumpee tried to climb over a fallen tree, but caught their foot and collapsed to the ground with a thud. Caretaker gasped, turning around and wrapping their arms around Whumpee, trying to pull them back up, but Whumpee’s weight gave away, as they fell into Caretaker’s arms. They sighed, as they sat on their knees with Whumpee leaning against their chest, breathing heavily.

“I.. nrg.. I can’t go any f-further... Can we just...” Whumpee’s voice slowly trailed off, as they went slack in their arms. Caretaker sighed, brushing the damp hair from Whumpee’s face, as they hoisted them over their shoulder. They just had to go a little further...

After walking a good ways, Caretaker grunted as they set Whumpee down on the ground, the terrain was already difficult enough to navigate without the weight of an entire Whumpee on their shoulders. It was a good location, clear enough to make camp, but secluded enough to hide out for the night. The sun was setting, the pink sky beamed behind the branches. Caretaker shook out their coat, laying Whumpee over it, doing their best to keep them warm.

Caretaker was a decent survivalist, they knew how to build their own shelter, fire, scavenge for food and water. They broke down branches and leaves, as they built an overhang above Whumpee, who never even stirred. They crouched down next to them, slowly pulling their shirt up to see the wound. 

Sure enough, there was a deep puncture wound in their side, still bleeding out. If it wasn’t taken care of now, it could easily take their life. Caretaker tore off pieces of their own shirt to stop the bleeding as much as they could, but they knew it wouldn’t be enough. Whumpee jolted awake, instinctively slapping Caretaker’s hand away. They jumped, holding their hand defensively, as Whumpee scooted back a few inches away from them, hugging the coat in their arms. 

“Hey, It’s alright.” Caretaker soothed, holding their hands up submissively. “It hurts?” They asked with a calming voice. Whumpee nodded their head with a wince. “Is it alright if I feel your head?” They nervously smiled. Whumpee blinked up at them, eyes darting back and forth as they questioned them. They eventually nodded their head again, as Caretaker slowly placed their hand on Whumpee’s forehead. Whumpee couldn’t help but to close their eyes and lean into the touch a little. 

They had a fever coming on.

Caretaker gave them a sad smile, taking a cloth to dab their forehead off the dirt and sweat. “We’re camping here for the night. Try and get some rest, okay?” Caretaker soothed. “Mmkay..” Whumpee muttered, already getting a head start. 

Caretaker stood up, scooping up the dry sticks and leaves they had gathered to make a fire. They managed a spark as they gently blew until they had a decent campfire. They got a firm stick, placing it so the tip was just over the lapping flames. They kept glancing back at Whumpee, making sure they were still breathing, watching them till they noticed the subtle rise and fall of their chest. 

They pulled out the cut binding from their pocket that they took from Whumpee’s wrists earlier, letting out a sad sigh as they wrapped it around a tree...

An hour went by, as Whumpee jumped awake, hissing in pain from the moment. Caretaker crawled to their feet, checking their temperature, while pulling their shirt up again to check the wound. It was getting worse... 

“Whumpee, I need you to lean up, come on.” Caretaker coaxed. Whumpee only grunted disapprovingly, squirming out of their grasp back onto the ground. “Come on, we don’t have time for this, I have to clean this up.” Caretaker tried.

“Leave me alone...” Whumpee whined out, defensively curling up in a fetal position. They cried out when Caretaker lifted them in their arms, setting them close to the fire against a tree. Whumpee held their arms covering their torso, trying to keep Caretaker from touching them. “I’m sorry, but if I don't do something now, you won’t make it in this state.” Caretaker sighed. “No! I’ll get better, just give me a little more time!” Whumpee protested. 

“You don’t have much more time, Whumpee. We’re doing this now.” Caretaker said, grabbing both their wrists in one hand, pulling their shirt up with the other. Whumpee squirmed their hands out, pushing Caretaker away, who stopped, looking down at them sadly, letting out a long exhale. 

“So you want to do it this way?” They asked, grabbing Whumpee’s arms, pulling it over their head and wrapping the bindings around their wrists. Whumpee gasped when they realized what was happening, crying out and trying to push Caretaker away with their legs. It was pretty ineffective, as Whumpee’s strength was about as durable as a wet noodle. 

“No! Let me go!” They cried out, trying to wrench their hands from their bounds. Caretaker silently got up, walking over to the firepit and pulling out the burning stick.

Whumpee went pale, slowly shaking their head.

“No... No don’t.. Please don’t do this.” They cried out with a quiet weak voice.

“Just be still.” Caretaker whispered, sitting with their knees over Whumpee’s legs, holding their lower half down.

“No! Stop! Stop it! Don’t do it! Please! I’ll be okay! I’ll be okay...” Whumpee’s pleads slowly turned into sobbing, twisting their body to try and get as far away as they could, but they were already locked down. 

Caretaker pulled their shirt up, the hand holding the burning stick trembling, as they hesitated. They took a deep breath, knowing it had to be done, as they pressed the burning stick to Whumpee’s wound. They squeezed their eyes closed guiltily as their ears were drowned in Whumpee’s screams, their body arching off the tree, ropes digging into their struggling wrists. They took the stick off, throwing it behind them into the fire, as they quickly cut Whumpee from the binding, and held them in their arms.

Whumpee sobbed, crying out in pain as their fists gripped Caretaker’s shirt, who cradled them softly. “Ssshh.. It’s alright, it’s all over now. You’re going to be alright..” Caretaker whispered, rocking them back and forth. 

Eventually their cries turned to soft whimpers and sniffling, as they relaxed just enough to lean their head on Caretaker’s shoulder. 

“I’ve got you, everything's going to be okay. I promise. We’re going to get out of this.” Caretaker promised.

Whumpee listened, as they slowly passed out in Caretaker’s arms, who held them close to their chest. 

Next

Tag list: @grizzlie70  @alien-octopus @lave-whump @amethysts-sideblog @pyromilka @thingsthatgowhumpinthenight

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Thank you for reading!