#like ive been begging for something good to happen every day and universe is like okay you get the One and thats it

[skunkes]

Being vague about it bc things can and will go wrong for me at the very last second but I might finally experience a Win tomorrow. 🧿🧿🧿

[charlottecutepie]

☥ Bunny meat (William Afton x fem!reader x Michael Afton)

Summary: He was a likeable middle-aged man who had wonderful children, his dream job and a beautiful wife. He never blamed himself for his own actions, or to be more exact, he never thought about their consequences.

author note: Ive been thinking for a very long time whether I should publish this fic here. this is my fav fic I wrote for fnaf, I especially like the way I portrayed William here. so please, if any of you would like to see this story here, can you leave a comment? It’ll help me to understand. I’m just unsure if I should post this fic here :’’)

tags: darkfic, unhealthy relationship, angst, smut with plot, p in v, dubcon, oral sex, rough and gentle sex, daddy kink, blood play, knife play, fear play, hurt/comfort, violence, gore/murders, child abuse, follows fnaf lore, moral and physical abuse, virginity kink, anxiety disorder, age gap, daddy issues, unreliable narrator, hallucinations, hidden pairing, William is sick, psychopathy, unhealthy narcissism

Chapter 2.

Chapter 1. Thoughts

Chilly spring night. Light wind and rain. It's so fresh outside that the opposite effect appears: you feel as if you are suffocating from excess air. Outside is your favourite smell of wet grass after the rain. Light smile appears on your lips, and you carelessly go out on the porch of your house, looking at the beautiful view in front of you.

At such moments, everything around seems to be a part of you, you feel some kind of connection with nature and this world. Peace, tranquility, two things what you lack in life.

Today was a bad day. Maybe tomorrow will be better? Tomorrow will be the same. And when will it be better? Does this hell have an end?

Your head is filled with bad thoughts. It feels like every day is getting a little worse than the previous one. You never understood why you deserved such treatment from your father. It was as if he was doing everything so that you wouldn't feel like his daughter. He never even called you that. Something bad happened in your family every day, mom and dad always argued, and you always ran into your room in a state of panic, anxiety. What if father does something to her? That's what happened a few years ago. When you called your aunt in tears, begging her to come, because your father broke your mom's leg and beat her to a concussion. You could have been next if your aunt hadn't arrived on time. That evening, the picture of father changed dramatically in your little child's head.

“Father” means something cold, something cruel. The one who can punch, beat, shout, scream. Abuse.

You live with this thought to this day, but the only thing that has changed is that now there is no father anymore. He died a month ago, which was a shock to your whole little family. You hardly remember what happened exactly on the day of his death, but you clearly memorised your mother who cried all night because she knew well that the only one who could work to feed the family was her husband.

And now, because of this husband she cannot find a well-paid job, because he took care to provide her with a serious disability. And you're too young to work, first you must finish school and university.

Your skin was covered with goosebumps, you went back into the house. Passing by mom's room, you made sure that she was asleep and went to your own one.

Tomorrow is another day.

…

June 22.

“Y/n, breakfast is ready.” you heard mom's voice from the kitchen. Telling her you'd be coming soon, you headed to the bathroom to comb your hair and wash your face.

On the dining table you saw a plate with your favorite breakfast. Pancakes with honey, it couldn't not make you happy. You smiled and sat down opposite your mom. Woman was in a joyful mood.

“Good morning, dear, how did you sleep?” she asked gently, examining your face expression. That's how your conversation started, about everything and nothing at once. She told something about her plans for today, for a week, about her friends, about how one of them gave birth again. You just enjoyed her monologue, sometimes nodding and shaking your head. It was nice for you to see a sparkle in mom's eyes, it was something strange and unique for you, but warming soul. “I absolutely forgot that soon is your birthday!”

“Oh, really? If you hadn't told me, I wouldn't have remembered…” you answered in confusion, fidgeting in your chair and twitching your leg. For some reason, the mention of your birthday made you uncomfortable. Probably because it will be your first birthday without your father. After all, when he was alive, you never really celebrated it. The maximum that was — sweets that your mother gave you in secret from him. You wonder what will happen this time?

“How are we going to celebrate?” Mom asked, smile on her face.

You looked at the floor, nervously fiddling with your shorts. You scratched your head, trying to think of something, but no idea came to mind. Your thoughts are empty again.

“It's your 18th birthday… We need to celebrate it well somehow.” for a second she paused, before looking at you with cheerful face. “Oh… Mr. Afton!”

Your eyes widened in surprise, because after the funeral, your family stopped communicating with Afton family.

“Mom, what are you up to?” you frowned. To be honest, you always got shivers running down your spine from his name, because your last meeting was at that cemetery, on the day of your father's funeral. Memories have entered your mind, forcing you to remember your last dialogue with Mr. Afton.

After the burial itself happened, you ran away from the crowd away. Your heart was racing like crazy, trying to jump out of your chest. You sat down on a wet bench, covering your face in hysterics. Tears streamed down your cheeks, dripping onto a puddle under the bench.

“Young lady,” a low-pitched male voice called you out of hysteria. “Everything is okay? You've been sitting here for hour.”

You opened your eyes and raised your head. Next to you was standing was a tall, middle-aged man with dark brown hair, dressed in black trousers and a jacket. He leaned towards you, holding an umbrella over your head. His face seemed painfully familiar, but because of the hysteria, you couldn't remember who it was.

“Oh god, Y/n? I didn't recognize you, little one. Why are you sitting here all alone?” he smiled broadly as he sat down next to you on the bench, still holding the umbrella for you. “Your mom is looking for you, she's so worried. Her beloved girl is lost.”

You recognised this man. It was none other than William Afton. One of your father's friends, he often came to visit you, and your family also visited him. You were embarrassed by ignoring his questions because you didn't know what to respond. He's been staring at your face the whole time.

“Come on, princess, I see how cold you are.” with these words, he took off his jacket, putting it on your shoulders. “I understand how hard it is for you, honey.”

You haven't received so many nicknames from any men for all your 17 years of life. Never, not once. His voice at some point began to seem more comfortable and soothing. Because of all the surging emotions, you burst into tears again in front of him, no longer hiding your face. William, not wasting a minute, threw umbrella and took you in his arms, so that your face was hidden in his chest. His cold hands stroked your hair, soothing you, calming you. It may have looked strange from out of context, but you really needed support in such hard moment.

“Don't cry, Y/n. You'll be fine, little one.” he talked and talked endlessly, but because of your own tears and sobs, you ignored everything, only burying your nose in his chest more.

“He's the owner of a pizzeria! Do you want to celebrate there? I'm sure he'll give us a discount in honor of such an event.” her smile never disappeared for a second. You were already beginning to doubt at how real her emotions were.

“Are you sure? We don't have much money anyway…”

“Never mind, I want you to finally have the best birthday, dear.” she winked and got up from the table, putting the plates and mugs in the sink.

Your lips curled at the thought of having to see William again.

[whump-bunny]

Whens the next chapter of asas light coming out??

Oh my! I am flattered that you're interested! I don't have a specific date at the moment (University is a b*tch lol) however, I have been working on a continuation of A Choice to Make.

Here's a preview as thanks for being patient ^^;

It isn’t often that Asa gets a moment of clarity to himself. But he supposes that’s his own fault.

The first few weeks of his confinement to the basement were filled with constant screaming and wrists worn bloody. He refused food and water; he bit and scratched whenever Adam came near, all while screaming at him… begging for him not to release the serum. Little did he know that it was already done.

It wasn't long until Adam brought the IV down. He claimed the drugs were for Asa’s own good, to help stop his so-called “panic attacks.” But they both knew that was a lie.

Now, the only time Asa is allowed consciousness is when Adam comes to visit. And oh, how insufferable those visits are. He'll wax on for hours about how Asa is “ungrateful,” how if he would only play along, then the world would be his.

Asa does his best to tune it out most of the time, but the constant chattering makes it hard to think when Adam's around.

That's why moments like these, when Asa is both alone and able to think clearly, are precious. And yet, there's a bitterness to them as well. No fog blocking his mind means nothing to stop his thoughts from wandering to… dangerous places. Memories that need not be revisited. People that would be better off forgotten.

Every time he closes his eyes, he sees the flash of a freckled smile, his brother’s smile. A smile that shifts constantly from comforting to an unbearable reminder of all that he's lost. Worse yet, it's the only thing that Asa can still remember clearly. He doesn't know if the drugs have permanently messed up his brain, or if it's a natural effect of passing time, but every day, Asa finds it harder and harder to recall exactly what shade of green Liam’s eyes were, or the sound of his howling laughter whenever Asa cracked a joke.

It's as if his memories are being rewritten in crayon, losing details until there's only the vague impression of his brother, smiling that smile and smelling vaguely of cigarette smoke. 

Asa wonders how long it'll take before he doesn't remember Liam at all.

He shakes the unwelcome idea away, and turns his thoughts to the matter at hand: Bella.

She'd given him the gift of clarity, if only for a little bit, but the price might be higher than either of them are prepared for. Asa’s stomach churns as he ponders what Adam might do to them if he finds out.

An image of Bella, strapped to a chair and rotting in the basement, flashes through Asa's mind. He flinches, as if he's been burned.

That can't happen. He won't let it.

But hadn't he said that about something else?

The serum. Adam’s “perfect” world. Asa tried everything to stop it, and yet, if Bella is to be believed, he's already failed. The world is dying. Half-aged corpses litter the streets. And the unlucky few that survive have been cursed with immortality, doomed to spend eternity in a world that never grows and never changes.

Just like him.

-

Hope you enjoyed that snippet ^^; I will try to finish up the whole thing in a timely manner. Thank you so much for reading!

[sacredsorceress]

Milestone || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

summary: a journey through some of the biggest milestones in yours and bucky’s relationship from the day you first met to sharing a home of your own

a/n: in this we’re gonna pretend that bucky didn’t get dusted! also reader has powers similar to those of wanda’s. reblogs and replies are super appreciated!!

word count: 3.4k

warnings: none, fluff

masterlist || request || taglist

The First Time You Met

Running down the hallway of the airport, you watched as Peter was swept off of his feet and into the air by none other than Falcon, leaving the man you recognized as the Winter Soldier in your midst. Your shoes squeaking against the floor as you stopped short, you threw your arms into the air, stopping the man from moving.

Snapping his attention towards you, he furrowed his eyebrows and you could feel him fighting against your magic. Squeezing your eyes shut you tried your hardest to keep him contained but with only so much experience, he broke through it in a minute, coming for you straight after.

“Shit.” You cursed to yourself, watching as he strode over to you.

Clasping your hands together before pulling them apart, you created a baton of sorts in just enough time to hold it in front of yourself as Bucky cornered you into a wall. Pushing him back with the beam, you grunted, trying your hardest to keep the magic from dying out.

“You’re not very good at this.” He commented, attempting to pull the magical beam from your hands.

“I’m...” You grunted. “.... new.”

Using all of your force, you shoved him back. Taking the first opportunity you saw, you began shooting blasts of magic at him while he stumbled backwards. Attempting to dodge the blasts, he moved forward, putting his hands in the air.

“Look,” He said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Watching as he stumbled backwards, closer to a ledge, you halted the blasts, tilting your head sideways.

“Lucky me.”

As soon as the words fell from your mouth, you used the rest of your force, swinging your arms backwards and then pushing forward to shove him through the railing and over the edge, his eyes wide as he fell backwards. When he fell, he took the Falcon with him. 

Glancing up above, you saw Peter, shooting a web to hold the two men to the ground. Feeling the energy in your palms, you floated down to the floor they were held to, standing above them.

“Look guys, I would love to keep this up but I’ve only got one job here today and I’ve gotta impress Mr. Stark, so I’m really sorry-” You watched as the drone took Peter’s web and pulled him through the window cutting him short, Peter screaming as it did.

Turning back to the men, you pulled the hood of your cloak over your head.

“Don’t worry about the drone thing,” You said. “I know when to see myself out.”

Turning to make your way towards the exit of the airport, you heard Bucky call from behind you.

“Hey!” He shouted. “Who are you?”

Bucky didn’t know why he was asking. He could barely even remember facts about himself, never mind keep track of every super human person he came across, but there was something nagging in his mind, begging him to learn more.

Glancing over your shoulder, looking at the Winter Soldier one last time, you smirked.

“Y/n.”

And with that you left the airport.

First Touch

The hatch to the ship opening, you stumbled down the steps, gripping Nebula’s arm to keep your balance. As Steve took hold of Tony, Pepper rushing to his side, you looked up to find the familiar face of Rhodey making his way towards you.

“I chose the wrong day to go see who Dr. Strange was.” You chuckled somberly, trying to make light of the situation.

Grabbing your arm to steady you as you slowly walked down the steps, Rhodey shook his head.

“The fight wasn't much better back here.” He said. “At least we had oxygen though. You’re not looking so good, kid.”

Too afraid to have looked at your deteriorating reflection the past three weeks, you knew he was being too kind.

It had been nearly three weeks since Thanos snapped away a half of the universe’s population, leaving you, Tony and Nebula stranded in space. You had run out of fuel weeks ago and had nearly lost hope of ever returning home as the oxygen supply began dwindling until Captain Marvel had found your ship and brought you all safely back to the Avengers Compound.

Despite being back, three weeks in space had left you exhausted, starving and dehydrated- just to name a few.

Biting back the dizziness you felt, you sighed.

“I’m- I’m fine, Rhodes.” You said, beginning to feel lightheaded. “It’s nothing-”

Missing your footing on the step, you tripped, losing your balance from Rhodey, about to hit the ground until you felt an arm wrap around your torso and the cool touch of metal grasp your hand. Looking up, you were met with the familiar face of the man you had fought two years ago at the airport in Germany, his hair cut shorter since the last time you had seen him, but recognizable nonetheless.

“Bucky Barnes?” You asked, standing up straighter with his assistance.

“Y/n.” He replied, shooting you a gentle smile.

Although you had what many would consider super-human abilities with your magic, due to being discovered after the civil war between the Avengers that had effectively split up the group- you weren't used to being recognized. Hearing your name fall from his lips felt somewhat gratifying.

“You remember my name?” You asked in disbelief

“Hard to forget the name of the woman who kicked my ass.” Bucky chuckled, helping you walk towards the doors of the Compound. “Doesn't happen often.”

For the first time in weeks you allowed yourself to smile as you gazed up at the man holding you steady, making sure you didn’t fall. When his blue eyes met yours, you adverted your gaze, turning your attention towards Natasha who wheeled a wheelchair through the doors of the Compound and towards the two of you.

Moving his flesh hand to rest on your lower back, his vibranium one still in yours, he helped you slowly ease into the chair. When you sat back in the chair, resting your feet on the footrests, you looked up at the super soldier and smiled.

“Not looking for a rematch are you?” You asked, slipping your hand out of his and resting it on your abdomen. “‘Cause I think I’m gonna need a raincheck.”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he laughed shaking his head.

“No, I think I’m done with fighting.” He said.

Feeling Natasha pulling back on the wheelchair, about to spin your chair around and towards the doors, you threw him one last smile.

“That makes two of us.”

Just when Bucky was about to turn around and walk away as Nat wheeled you through the doors, the chair stopped and he watched as you glanced over your shoulder.

“And Sarge?” You called.

“Yeah?”

“I like the new arm.”

For the first time in decades, Bucky felt heat rise to his cheeks as he watched you tiredly speak to Natasha until you left his line of sight.

First Kiss

It had taken you nearly a month to recover from your time in space since returning back to Earth. Although you understood that there wasn’t much to be done since Thanos had wiped out half of the universe, you still felt guilty taking up space in the Compound when all you would do was lay in bed, attached to an IV. 

The one thing that made your time on bedrest a little more bearable was none other than Bucky Barnes.

Throughout your stay in bed he had consistently visited you. Though at first he was a bit shy, you had proven to be someone he could trust- assuring him that he could never be a bother to you and that you genuinely enjoyed having his company- maybe a bit too much, but you would never tell him that.

Bucky himself was surprised that he had put himself so out there with you after living such a solitary life for nearly the past 80 years, but there was just something about you that drew him to you time and time again. He couldn’t pinpoint it- whether it was your kindness, humor or intelligence- he found both joy and peace in your presence- something he had almost forgotten what it felt like to be in.

So, despite the voice in the back of his head telling him that you didn’t want to see him, he had visited you while you got better in bed, taking care of you in the littlest of ways until he watched the dark circles under your eyes fade away and your ability to walk without his assistance return.

Finally feeling somewhat better, you had insisted to bucky that you were ready to train again and no matter how many times he tried to convince you that you weren’t, he could never say no once you squeezed his hand and pouted up at him.

He was regretting not saying no to you as he now stood across from you in the training room.

“Y/n, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” He said, watching you sway in your spot despite your feet being planted to the mat.

“C’mon Barnes,” You taunted, raising your hands. “You scared?”

Just as he was about to open his mouth again, you shot a blast of magic towards him, Bucky dodging it just as it whooshed past his head.

“I wasn’t even ready!” Bucky exclaimed.

Shrugging your shoulders you formed another beam made of magic, holding either ends of it with your hands as Bucky came towards you.

Trying to plant your feet to the ground, feeling another hit of dizziness wash over you, you pushed him back with the beam, but before you could do anything more, his leg swept under yours, making you lose your balance. 

Before you fell to the ground, however, the magic in your hands diminished as you gripped your hands into Bucky’s shirt bringing him down with you.

Flipping over before you fell, you landed on top of the super soldier, your hands planted firmly on his chest. With his hands above his head that was inches away from yours, you both stared at each other- you finally noticing just how much you liked the scruff that coated his jawline and him admiring the color of your eyes and how he swore he could lose himself in them if only he had the chance.

Opening your mouth, you felt the thumping of Bucky’s heart against your fingertips that were resting on his chest as he gazed up at you.

“Your heart is beating really fast.” You whispered, out of breath despite you barely having trained.

“Yeah, it does that when I see you.”

You could barely believe what you were hearing until you felt Bucky’s hands come up and cup your face, glancing down at your lips before back to your eyes, asking wordlessly for your approval. 

Unable to form a coherent sentence, you eagerly nodded back at him.

Before you could even process it, you felt Bucky’s lips meeting yours as he pulled you into a kiss, his hands moving from cupping your face to wrapping around your body, pulling you tight against him. All you could remember thinking was that despite his tough exterior, his lips were soft and you could lose yourself in the comfort of having his arms around you all day if he let you.

Pulling away first, a beaming smile spread across Bucky’s face as he rubbed circles against your back.

“If you wanted to kiss me so bad,” He teased. “You could’ve just asked.”

First “I Love You”

Sitting on the edge of the rooftop, your legs swinging in the air, you offered the bag of popcorn in your hand to your boyfriend who was sat beside you. Taking his eyes off of the view in front of him, he grabbed a fistful of the salty treat from the bag, popping it in his mouth.

“Did you have stuff like this back in the olden times?” You asked, laying your head on his shoulder.

“What?” He asked despite his mouth being full. “You mean fireworks? How old do you think I am?”

Laughing at how he mocked offense over your question, you sat up straight, pecking his cheek.

“One hundred doesn’t sound much better, babe.”

Rolling his eyes, knowing that you loved him anyway, he brushed off the remaining salt from his fingertips, wrapping his vibranium arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him.

Just as he pressed a gentle kiss against your temple, he jumped in his spot as he heard the loud sound of the first firework shooting up into the air over the water before “popping” and bursting into an array of color.

“Look!” You exclaimed, pointing towards the display. “It’s starting!”

Although he took a quick glance at the firework display, his attention was purely focused on you. He couldn’t help but admire the way the colorful lights reflected on your skin or how you had a hint of an open smile on your face watching as the fireworks burst midair. No show could compare to looking at you.

He couldn't help but feel his heart race in his chest, breath caught in his throat as he admired your beauty- even when you were still in your suit from watching over the parade with him earlier that evening. He was convinced there wasn’t a single thing about you that he wasn’t completely enamored with and you only gave him more reasons to love you every single day.

Before he even realized what he was saying, admiring you in complete bliss and utter awe, the words slipped out of his mouth.

“I love you.”

He thought you wouldn’t be able to hear, the sound of another firework popping ringing in his ear, but when you turned towards him, your eyes wide and mouth agape, he knew you had.

“Did you just say that you love me?” You asked, fireworks continuing to burst behind you.

Not one to lie- especially not to you- he nodded his head.

“Yeah.”

A smile beginning to form on your face, you grabbed the strap on his jacket, pulling him closer to you.

“I love you too.”

Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his, the sound of the finale of the display ringing behind you as the fireworks burst one after another in air, every color imaginable washing over your joined figures sitting on the edge of the rooftop on that cool summer night, almost as if it were taking the feeling shared between the two of you and bringing it to life for the world to see.

First Home

“Okay!” You nodded, pointing to the corner of your living room. “That one can go over there. Thank you so much for your help, Steve.”

“I helped Buck move into his first apartment, Y/n.” Steve said wiping his hands on his pants. “I wouldn’t miss stuff like this for anything.”

Smiling at Steve’s comment, you felt Bucky’s vibranium hand land on your lower back, pulling you closer. Leaning into his touch, you wrapped your arm around him in return, staring up at your boyfriend.

“Yeah and the first time he was about a foot shorter and a hundred pounds lighter.” Bucky chuckled. “This is easy for him.”

Watching Natasha set down the last box on top of a pile of the others in the kitchen, you excused yourself from your boyfriend and his best friend, making your way into the other room.

When you had left the two of them’s earshot, Bucky watching as you left, Steve rested his hand on Bucky's shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“You know,” Steve said. “I’m happy for you, Buck. I think this is gonna be good for you.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s comment- despite how cheesy it was- because he knew it was true.

When Bucky’s memory had finally been cleared, a part of him had always feared that even though he had been given a new chance at life, he would never have a normal one. Although he knew “normal” was a strong term for the life you two shared together given that he was a century old super soldier and you had magical abilities- you had given him a chance at a peaceful life full of love and contentment which was all he could ever dream of asking for. 

The idea of finding love and having a family was something that he worried was left eighty years in the past, but you proved to him that life didn’t end for him when he fell from that train- if anything it brought him the beginning he had always hoped for.

“Sure you won’t miss me too bad, pal?” Bucky asked.

Taking his hand back from Bucky’s shoulder, Steve laughed shoving his hand in his pockets.

“No, I think I’m used to it by now.” Steve chuckled. “It’s just like you to be able to find a woman with shared life experience even when half the world disappears.”

Shaking his head at his friend’s joke, he shoved him playfully.

“C’mon, ya’know this is different.” Bucky said. “I think this is the last one for me.”

Without missing a beat, Steve smiled.

“I know.”

Hearing the sound of you and Natasha’s footsteps stepping back into the room, Bucky kept his mouth shut, feeling your hand run over his shoulder as you stood beside him.

“Don’t forget about me now that you have your own place, okay Y/n?” Nat said crossing her arms.

“Don’t worry.” You told her. “I’ll come visit every day.”

“Well, not every day-” Bucky interjected.

“No. I meant what I said. Every day, Nat. You’ll wish you never said anything.”

Once the laughter that had erupted in the room settled, Steve and Nat said their goodbyes to you and your boyfriend, you both waving them off as you shut the door behind them. When the door was shut and you and Bucky were left in your new apartment alone together, you rushed over to your bag by the door, pulling a neatly wrapped gift out of it.

“What’s this?” Bucky asked as you handed him the present.

“Just a little housewarming gift.” You smiled.

Gazing at your smiling face, a smile finding its way onto his, he looked down at the present in his hands, carefully tearing the paper off of the gift to reveal a framed photo of the two of you.

A framed photo of the two of you fighting in an airport three years ago on the day you first met.

“So, Tony had put a camera in Peter’s suit back before we went and fought you guys.” You explained. “And I thought it had to be gone since Peter was... you know... but it turned out that Tony still had the footage so I was able to find some from that day at the airport and in it there was this quick little shot of us fighting and I just had to have it, Buck.”

Flipping the frame around at you, he raised his eyebrows.

“A photo of us fighting?”

“Yes!” You told him. “Do you like it?”

Despite the fact that it was a photo of the two of you fighting- a fight that he had gotten his ass kicked in no less- he loved it more than anything else you could have possibly given him because it was the day he met you. It was the day his life changed and he didn’t even know it in the moment.

Although your story was far from “normal” it was your story and that’s what mattered the most to him.

“I love it, doll.” He said, pulling you into his embrace. “This is a crazy story to tell our kids though, huh?”

“All of them are.” You laughed into his chest. “But I wouldn't have it any other way, Buck. I love you.”

Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, a photograph of the day your story first began in his hand, he smiled.

“I love you too.”

[riridontneedya]

IMPERIUM✨

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Any house Reader, Harry Potter x

Wordcount: 4,210

Warnings: SMUT, ANGST dom ,sub, daddy ,oral, teasing ,praise, spitting , chocking etc run of the mill smut.

A/N : Well the time has come I've finally given in.. I say finally didn't take much conviction lol. Anyway in this universe Dumbledore is still very much alive and no-one tried to kill one another so all is well. As always enjoy and let me know what you think xx

Summary: Draco and y/n battle it out for the new position as headmaster but what happens when they are made to work alongside one another

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention please” spoke Dumbledore. He arose from his chair gently tapping his knife against his chalice in order to garner the crowds attention . Shortly everyones eyes were fixated on him. He cleared his throat and began. “I would like to thank each and everyone one of you for coming out tonight … as we all know its been a tough decision for me to step down, however! .I have no fear as I know the school will be in the safest of hands. I hand picked these two myself and in-fact trust them with my life. I know they have been working tirelessly day in and out to ensure not only my trust .. but all members of committee and most importantly our students. So with that being said when it is revealed in tomorrows assembly who the new headmaster and deputy are I want you both to know ,no matter the outcome I am so proud of you both, so let us raise a toast to our candidates . Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N and Draco Lucius Malfoy”. With that Dumbledore rose his chalice high in the air smiling warmly at the pair. Everybody followed suit and raised their glasses high in celebration.

Draco and Y/N graciously thanked everyone as they showered them with words of praise and encouragement . Just then Y/n went to speak however her words were abruptly cut short by Astoria. As if an eager child unable to contain her excitement she blurted out. “ Draco and I are so grateful for all the support, so as a thank you after this we will be having refreshments and canapés at the Malfoy manor to celebrate his new position as headmaster .. all are welcome to join”. ‘Headmaster .. oh my how incredibly presumptuous” Y/N chuckled into her drink. “Excuse me” squeaked Astoria, she spun around rapidly locking eyes with Y/n. Y/n folded her arms across her chest and began “I do believe you heard me Astoria .. you said headmaster and thats yet to be revealed so for you to address Draco as said headmaster is well.. presumptuous”. Astorias tongue prodded the inside of her cheek, you could tell by the hue of red in her face she was infuriated but trying to find the words without imploding.

“Well , I just know he will ok so yeah just know that”, spat Astoria in a feeble attempt to shake off Y/ns rightful observation’. ‘Oh I see” snapped y/n “why didn't you say it was you sooner, Sybil , Sybil Trelawney teacher of divination . What are you doing here under the guise of Polyjuice potion? I mean you could’ve just come with your crystal ball and tea leaves and said he was the winner that way instead of this elaborate scheme don’t you think?” The laughter of fellow by standers suddenly erupted around the women. Astoria who now sup parsed hues of red was the shade of a beetroot , completely enraged prepared to snap she was interrupted by Dumbledore. “ NOW now girls quell your fiery natures, this is to be a peaceful night of celebrations”. The woman smiled coyly at Dumbledore. ‘My apologies Dumbledore” y/n chimed up. “We speak no more of it ok” Dumbledore smiled and gently patted the crown of y/ns head and proceeded to make his way back to his chair. Y/N turned and smiled gloatingly at Astoria. In response Astoria screwed her face up mockingly and fled no doubt to chastise Draco for not swooping in and defending her.

“Pwoarh Nice one mate” chuckled Fred as he held out his fist waiting for Y/n to bump it. Hahah stop it you she giggled. ‘Here , should we go to the manor after this for a laugh” sniggered George appearing alongside them. “Ha, I'm sure she’s revoked my invitation effective immediately” said Y/n, as she peered over to Astoria , she could see her flailing her arms around whilst Draco made no attempt to conceal his look of boredom in the conversation. “You know what lets .. Ive been dying to get a peek of the manor anyway what harm can it do”. ‘Cracking’ the twins harmonised in unison. The trio linked arms and jollied along.

Once arrived at the manor they soon found it to be every bit luxurious as they envisioned. The floors were marble and reflected the light of the enormous crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling. Each stair of the grand staircase was illuminated by candle light creating an auburn strip propelling up the length of the stairs. Every inch of the manor oozed with decadence. “Wow , its rather impressive” mused y/n . “You can say that again” chimed Fred as he helped himself to a glass of champagne , handing one over to y/n. They began to mingle and drink with the rest of the party guests it was an overall pleasant evening that was until Astoria appeared before Y/n. “Glad to see you could make it y/n” said Astoria with a constipated smile. She had made little to no effort to conceal her sarcastic tone.

Y/n had no interest in rehashing todays mini confrontation. Instead she pulled a sickly sweet smile and said “ Wouldn’t miss it for the world, thank you for your generous hospitality Ms Green grass.” Astorias face dropped “green green .. she muttered, haha don’t be silly you must get use to calling me Mrs Malfoy”. Now despite y/ns fondness to antagonise Astoria at any given opportunity she couldn’t help but see she was visibly hurt. She immediately began to fumble her words in a bid to preserve her feelings “honestly , Astoria I'm sorry I didn't know the extent of your relationship .. I apologise”. Astoria still hadn’t reacted she stood stationary bottom lip protruding sad and helpless like a lost puppy. Y/n gently squeezed Astorias forearm and began to say “ look you mustn't pay it any mind, Draco wouldn’t dare indulge in any small talk with me about family life .. so don’t stress it congratulations by the way”. Astoria looked up at her with eyes softened . Relief washed over Y/n as she could tell she was receptive to her. Y/n couldn’t help but wonder to herself why he hadn’t mentioned news as big as that , they had worked so closely over these months . To be fair on a good day if you hadn’t known Draco you wouldn’t even know he had a girlfriend let alone fiancé .. or wife ?

Astoria went to talk but just then none other than Draco emerged behind her . His hand came down onto her shoulder. sharply. “ thats enough now sweetheart , I think Daphne was looking for you actually”. There was a weird exchange of eye contact Astoria weakly smiled and left. It was now just y/n and Draco stood before one another. Draco broke the silence by clearing his throat “ Y/L/N, may I interest you in a nightcap in my office ,there are things Id appreciate to discuss before we venture into our new working relationship”. Although slightly bewildered she agreed as after all they were to work alongside one another and she’d rather it be somewhat harmonious than turbulent.

Y/n followed Draco across the length of the great hall and into a pair of grand double doors. The room was vast , books littered the walls as far as the eye could see and in the corner a fireplace roared. Draco stood behind his desk and motioned for y/n to take a seat opposite him. She smoothed the back of her dress and proceeded to make herself comfortable. Draco started pouring whiskey from the crystal decanter into a couple of whiskey tumblers. The burn of the fire whisky ignited as it glided down her throat. The combination of whiskey and champagne left Y/N beginning to feel somewhat merry, she hadn’t really noticed during the quiet sobering conversation with Astoria. ‘So what is it you have in mind Draco?”. His stormy grey eyes peered over at her from behind his glass. ‘Very well” he remarked and manoeuvred himself to Y/NS side of the desk .He perched himself on the edge legs akimbo and both his large veiny hands clasped around his whiskey glass. Y/n inhaled sharply as she averted her gaze from his legs splayed before her. Continuing he said “ As you're aware I have my plans about how Hogwarts should be run , I have a detailed strategy and I plan to implement it as soon as possible .. so what I'm really asking is are you with me or against me because I have no intention of being held back”.

Y/n blinked rapidly .. she was unable to process what he was saying , how could he be so smug thinking he had headmaster place secured already. “ Fuck sake Draco, ok first that wasn’t really posed as an option now was it ?, also enough with belief that its your divine right to just be appointed as headmaster! What makes you think that if you somehow are the headmaster I will just bend at your will? Pathetic!” She scoffed into her drink. Draco began to stifle a laugh “ Ah you do amuse me y/n”, look I'm willing to let you have some creative control … only if you prove to me how badly you so desire it”. His suggestive smile sent shivers up y/n. “Fuck you Malfoy” she hissed and jolted from her seat, once she reached the door she rattled the doorknob but to no avail the door wouldn’t budge. “Open it now” she demanded . Draco slowly sauntered towards her and leant across the door “hmm I thought you liked a challenge .. guess I was wrong this will be no fun after all ” Draco was indeed correct Y/n did enjoy a challenge and he’d be gravely mistaken if he thought she would let him get away without putting up a fight”.

Something switched in Y/n she turned to face Draco who was only inches away. He towered over her with his svelte frame encased in an all black suit. ‘Is this what you want Draco hmm” she said in a sultry tone whilst hooking her finger into his belt loop pulling him closer. You want me to beg ..or would you rather me on my knees .. better yet I could be a good girl and just bend over that desk right now and let you have your way if thats what you want” . Draco's breathing was now laboured within seconds he had pulled y/n in by the waist flipped her round having her pressed against the door, his body weight up against her and his hand holding her arms in place on the door. Y/n could feel the stiffness of his impressive length against her derrière. With a shallow gasp he breathed dangerously close to her ear “ be careful what you wish for ms Y/L/N , I don’t take too kindly to false promises as I always get what I want” . With that he tossed her around to face him .Y/n was now panting her body was burning in desire she wanted nothing more than to drop to her knees there and then. No wonder Astoria was attached to his hip.. if this was anything to go off.

Y/n bit her lip she felt dizzy with emotions . Draco stood before her with a devious smile , his hands soon intertwining at her waist and face buried in her décolleté littering it with kisses making his way down to her ample bosom. Y/n couldn’t help but throw her head back in delight eliciting a small moan. That only became fuel for Draco as he hoisted her leg from the floor and wrapped it around him. It was then Y/n felt a vibration from the opposite side of the door., as if someone had knocked from the outside . It was then followed by a mousy ‘ Dray , are you in there’. Draco paused for a moment grip still tight on y/n. “What is it I'm having a business meeting , i'll be out shortly don’t hover ”. It was clear who it was… the pair unraveled themselves from one another quickly smoothing out clothing and rejigging themselves. ‘Ok let us” let me stop you Draco, Y/n interrupted pressing her finger against his lips to audibly shush him. “ As if you think id let this happen you think you get to fuck me then you do as you please and I a dutiful little lap dog . Pfffft what a joke like it or not I'm going to be your boss so the only way I'm fucking you is in the more figurative sense , now you better hurry up don’t want to keep your fiancé waiting or Is it wife hmmm”. With a quick flick from her wand she sent the door swinging open and promptly stormed out.

The day had finally arrived the great hall of Hogwarts was alive with the buzz of chatter. The sizeable table at the forefront of the hall hosted all the teachers and most importantly both Draco and y/n. Dumbledore made his way to the podium, he produced his wand and placed it at the base of his neck it acted as a megaphone propelling his voice across the hall. “Everybody if I may have your attention please.” The chatter soon died down and everyone eagerly cast their eyes on him. “ Right, I shan’t keep you in suspense anymore , it is time to announce your new headmaster & deputy ’. Both Draco and y/n fidgeted in their seats after all these months of rivalry it had boiled down to this. “ Ladies and gentlemen, introducing Ms y/n y/l/n your new headmaster !” Boomed Dumbledore. .Y/N shrieked she was giddy with excitement she couldn’t believe she had actually done it. Everyone around her broke out into wild applause there were whistles and jeers laughter overall excitement. She was being ushered by the surrounding teachers to get up to the podium to make a speech. As she was making her way she cast eyes on Draco, there he stood paler than usual and unresponsive he was there physically but not mentally his carcass stood stationary unable to ingest the news he had just been fed.

The days rolled into weeks weeks rolled into months and y/n had almost completed a whole term at Hogwarts. All was going swimmingly and albeit begrudgingly Draco was in-fact a great support on her journey. It was the last night of term and y/n sat a her desk pondering over a mountain of papers. Y/n sighed and cradled her head in her hands , she was exhausted she spent all her time dedicated to the role that she forgot to take time out for herself. There was a knock at the door “Come in” she yelled out. Draco's head emerged around the door. ‘

Oh hey you , come in come in” ushering him to the desk. ‘Oh dear , sucks to be you , regretting the position of power now?” Draco chuckled menacingly. “Ha ha very funny” she uttered dryly. “Anyway , some of the other teachers are going out for drinks but I can see you are busy” said Draco eyeballing the mountains of paper. “Yeah.. I afraid I am , but you enjoy yourself Draco have a drink for me and i'll see you next term” she smiled warmly at him. Draco locked eyes on her , hands stuffed in his pocket he began to fidget. “In all honesty I'm not the fondest of all the people going .. also Id much rather not be at home ..before you laugh or probe why just don’t because I won’t go into it but I can’t bare to spend another moment longer with …her .. so umm yeah , I can help you out here then say you make it up to me buying me a drink later?”

Y/n smirked “You’re quite then enigma aren’t you Draco ..? He raised his eyebrows at her in acknowledgement. “Fine , id appreciate that very much but I am rather tired so if it's not beneath you I can offer you a drink at mine ..”. His eyes flickered up to meet hers , stifling a smile . “Id like that ..”he said softly , ‘well then , let's get to work” y/n smiled. Draco and y/n worked through the night it was filled with chatter and laughter they felt at ease with one another. Once they finished up the momentum continued on at y/ns house. Copious amounts of fire whiskey later they found themselves delving into deeper topics having more in-depth conversations and discovering more about one another. Draco's whole demeanour was very relaxed and this was foreign to y/n. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and tie loosened. ‘You know .. you're an alright person not that much of a pain in my arse surprisingly” Draco chuckled swigging another mouthful of whiskey. “Well thats rich” laughed y/n.

“Right well I've really enjoyed this but its getting late , I can barley keep my eyes open … earlier you mentioned you didn't want to go back so .. you're more than welcome to stay …. Only if you want”. Rattled by the kind gesture he smiled affectionately. Stumbling over his words “umm yeah , thank you y/n you’ve exceeded your generosity let me at least grab us coffee for the morning then. “Sounds like a plan , hopefully you won’t find me a pain in the arse again come morning ”. With a cackle Y/n got up from the couch and showed Draco to the spare room. Once at the door she began to wish him a goodnight. As he went to hug y/n his lips grazed her cheek. Y/n suddenly recoiled , a silence loomed over them as they gazed at one another the emotions of that night in Draco's office flooding back. Y/n could feel the heat surging in her cheeks so she hastily wished him a good night and scurried to her room. Once in the shelter of her room she let out a sigh of relief. She knew it was the right thing to do but my how she craved him.

Draco burst through the door making a beeline for Y/N. He took her into his arms and kissed her with an insatiable hunger. Backing her into the wall he began to rid her of her clothing . Y/n hands clambered at his chest to do same however he abruptly stopped her “ Oh no you don’t , you think I forgot about that little stint in my office huh ? Well I didn't and I've been awaiting the day I get to fuck you senseless Ms y/n … you control me all day and now its y turn to control you .. you will do everything I say do you understand” . Enthralled by his dominance Y/n nodded enthusiastically. “Sorry I didn't hear you “ roared Draco grabbing her face towards his. “Yes who”. “Yes Draco” she moaned . “You can do better than that dear yes who, i'll only ask you one more time or i'll have bent over my knee.. so what will it be?” . “Yes … daddy “ she muttered bashfully. “Thats my girl” he bellowed. He grabbed her and thrust her onto the bed , he unfastened his tie and instructed her to lift her hands above her head. Y/n did as commanded. He bound her wrists up and hooped them over the bed post. “Now, I'm going to have my way with you and you don’t get to touch me understood!” ‘Yes daddy y/n whimpered” “ahh what a good girl you are, ugh the things I'm going to do to you”. Y/ns eyes winded in desire, Draco shimmied y/ns shirt up and instructed her to bite down using it as a makeshift gag. He suddenly began to kiss her lower abdomen slowly sliding off her trousers.

Y/n titled her hips aiding him in taking them off. Draco's eyes lit up upon the discovery of her not wearing any undergarments “oh so you were anticipating me you filthy slut” Draco chuckled darkly’. He teased and taunted kissing her inner thighs only grazing her sex, this drove y/n crazy her body craved him inside her. Draco finally delicately licked a strip against her folds causing her body to crumble at the slightest of his touch. His warm moist tongue began frantically massaging her causing her to rive in ecstasy . His tongue began to vibrate excitedly against her clitoris sending shock waves through her entire body , she bucked her hips in excitement unable to keep her composure as Draco's tongue fixated on lapping up the one spot that drove her insane. Y/n was close he was relentless with his tongue against her swollen bud , just as she was about to finish Draco withdrew. Y/ns face fell in disgust just as she was about complain he plunged his fingers deep inside her ..pumping rhythmically y/ns juices coated his fingers . His other hand sloped around her neck , eventually this caused her to release all over his hand. Draco's pupils now engulfed his eyes …he was enthralled in pleasure watching her crumble for him . “ Aren’t you a good girl , snarled Draco “squirting for daddy , whilst I love it I don’t recall giving you permission to” .y/n squirmed overcome with pleasure unable to respond.

He unhooked her and brought her to her knees. He ripped her shirt from her mouth and produced his veiny throbbing cock dripping with pre cum. Y/n gasped in astonishment and eagerly attempted to take him all in her mouth bobbing her head enthusiastically until her jaw ached and eyes began to stream. He hurled his head back in pleasure as her tongue gently caressed his pulsating tip. “Ugh yeah just like that baby “ he muttered .

Without warning y/n sucked on the tip with vigour. Draco let out a ferocious moan whilst grabbing y/ns hair fashioning it into a ponytail attempting to make her glide her tongue down the rest of his shaft. He couldn’t have her do that for too long as he surely would finish in her mouth. “You filthy filthy girl “ he beamed as he pulled her off his cock . Rocking her head back spiting in her mouth. He brought yn to her feet and began kissing her deeply interlocking his tongue with hers , she yearned so badly to touch him to feel her skin against his. “ Get over here , I want you leant over this bed frame whilst I fuck you .. I'm going to cum on that pretty pussy then I'm going to put it back in understand!” Firmly instructed Draco . “Yes daddy” that’s my girl he cooed. Draco teasingly stroked his member against her entrance this sent shock waves through y/n causing her to gyrate in hopes he would slip in. Draco caught onto this and his hand came down harshly on her derrière .y/n let out a gasp. “Don’t be greedy now” he laughed tightening his makeshift restraints on her wrists. Relentless with his teasing it was a shock to y/n when Draco abruptly pushed into her. Y/n was in euphoria as was Draco as the warmth of her walls swaddled his manhood.

Draco slammed into y/n her body rattling with pleasure, just then Draco felt himself out to release .. so true to his word he instructed y/n to lay on her back so he could empty his contents onto her. He threw his head back in jubilation upon release. As he went to enter her again this time her was slower much more gentle taking y/n into his arms. “How do you want me to finish you off baby?,like this or I could use my fingers?” Y/n shuddered remembering the bliss she was in from his lengthy fingers so it would be a no brainer to opt for them “Fingers please daddy” she uttered softly.

He untangled himself from her stood up and offered his hand . Taking her across the room he sat down in-front of the floor length mirror instructing y/n to sit in between his legs. “If its fingers you was then its fingers you’ll get but your gonna have to watch me”. His large hand sloped up her neck tenderly chocking her whilst his other massaged at her slit . Y/n was still dripping from earlier so it was light work for him to imbed his fingers into her. Y/n couldn’t take it the combination of Draco's fierce unwavering gaze in the mirror and the sheer bliss she felt with her legs quaking she soon released decorating the mirror in-front her. “Ugh your amazing baby” he beamed kissing her forehead gracefully. “Here let's get you cleaned up and we can cuddle in bed”. “Oh my … I didn't peg you as a cuddling type Draco” y/n laughed gingerly attempting to get up her legs still trembling beneath her. “Shut up you” he scolded “when will you learn there’s a lot you still don’t know about me y/n”.

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[yandere-society]

The Devil in the ICU

Pairing:

Synopsis: You’ve rarely spoken to your neighbor Jimin, but he’s always been kind to you. When you get into an accident that lands you in the ER, you’re grateful to see who’s taking such good care of you. It isn’t until later that you start to wonder… will you ever be leaving the hospital?

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Blood, murder/death, yandere themes, stalking themes, needles/IVs

Admin: @psycho-slytherin​

Request:

How did you wind up here? 

As you slump back into your bed, with him lying on the floor next to you, a hazy thought informs you that it must look like a scene straight out of Romeo and Juliet.

Although, you think ruefully, glancing down at the sharp shard of glass clenched in your fist, I don’t think Juliet would have done this.

“Merry fucking Christmas.”

~Three weeks earlier~

Taehyung, leaning against the doorframe with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand, looks as handsome as the day you married him. “Have a good day at work!”

You give him a quick kiss, shivering in the brisk morning air. “You too. Remember that we have that dinner tonight!”

Tae laughs. “Is that what we’re calling the awards ceremony? You know you’ve earned bragging rights.”

“Shush!” You boop him on the nose before turning and making for your car. On the other side of the fence, you can see your neighbor Jimin step out onto his porch. He catches your eye and, as Taehyung goes back inside, you smile amicably and nod at Jimin before getting into your car. You see him at his front door every morning, and he’s always friendly.

On your drive to the university campus, you think about tonight’s dinner. You’ll be presented with an awards for Arts Education despite being one of the youngest professors in the university’s faculty. You were thrilled when the dean of the school contacted you for the honor.

Once you park, you speedwalk to your first class of the day and burst through the door. You soon find yourself looking at twenty students, some bright-eyed, some more zombie-like.

“I’d apologize for being late,” you say, “But at this point I don’t think anyone is surprised.” The more awake students laugh, and you sling your bag onto your desk at the front of the room. “Let’s get started. Yoongi, you’re up first for workshop. Why don’t you stand up and read?”

Of all of your students, you think Yoongi is the most likely to pursue his career in creative writing. 

He nods and stands. You can see his hands trembling as he clutches the paper. 

When he sits back down after reading his poem, there’s a smattering of applause. “Very nice,” you say. “Now, who’d like to offer their feedback?”

~~~

Hours later, you dismiss your last class. You can’t wait to go home and tell Taehyung all about your day.

“So this one kid really decided the best move, instead of asking for an extension, was to plagiarize Twilight. Fucking Twilight!” 

Taehyung laughs as he buttons up his shirt. “What did you tell her?”

“Ugh, I hate to report anyone for plagiarism, I told her to write something new and turn it in for half credit.”

“No wonder your students love you. I think you’re personally responsible for all of the creative writing majors on campus.”

You finish zipping up your dress. “Probably. Let’s get going, yeah?” 

“Your wish, my command,” Taehyung says, gallantly bowing you out the door. You giggle as he opens the passenger side door for you. “For real, Y/n, want to get away for a weekend to celebrate? This is a nationally recognized award!”

“Hm…” you pretend to think. “Maybe we could go somewhere warm and sunny, with lots of beaches.”

Taehyung interlaces his fingers with yours, lifts your hand to his mouth, and kisses your palm. “Whatever you want. Christmas is coming up, maybe we can travel somewhere for the winter.”

You smile and look out of the window as Taehyung begins the drive. The ceremony is being held at a hotel twenty minutes away. And in a few weeks, you’ll be spending Christmas with the love of your life somewhere warm.

Under the twinkling night sky, everything feels so peaceful. Suddenly, you see a flash of light overhead. “Tae! A shooting star! Look-”

BANG. You hear the sound of crunching metal, feel a violent jerk, and everything goes dark.

~~~

“When she wakes up, start her on 20 milligrams of morphine. If her blood pressure is still low, go ahead and add saline to the IV. She shouldn’t need a transfusion unless anything opens up again.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Doctor. Are you in the hospital, then? Was there an accident? “Ugh…” You blink hard in the blinding light. You’re woozy, and your mouth tastes like copper.

“Y/n! Doctor, she’s awake!” You hear a familiar voice, and feel a hand grip your own.

“M-Mom?”

“Y/n. Thank heavens, you’re awake.” Your mom’s voice is strained and thick, as though she’s been crying. When your eyes finally focus on her, she’s sniffling, and her eyes are bloodshot. She’s wearing a formal black dress – did she come straight from the ceremony?

“What happened?” You croak.

“You were in an accident,” your mom says, her voice breaking. “A bad one. We weren’t sure if you would make it.”

You wince. That doesn’t make sense, and the cost of a hospital stay isn’t in your budget. “Where’s Taehyung?” 

Your mother is silent for a moment too long, and you feel your chest grow tight. “Mom, where is Taehyung? He was in the car with me!”

“He… he didn’t make it. I’m so sorry,” your mom whispers. “The doctors did everything they could.”

No. “You’re lying.” Of course she is, she has to be, he’s your husband, he can’t be gone. “Don’t lie. He’s fine.” 

“Y/n, baby…” 

“No!” You weakly pull your hand from her grip. Angry tears form and begin to spill down your swollen, tender cheeks. “You’re lying!” Please, you beg inside your head, please be lying. Not Taehyung. He’s healthy, strong, smart, he has to be fine. 

You can see unshed tears shining in your mother’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“We weren’t going that fast,” you say desperately. “It can’t have been bad.”

“You broke a leg and a rib, fractured your collarbone, and punctured your lung,” Your mother says quietly. “They said you were lucky to have no brain damage.”

You sit back, stunned. It’s true, you’re wrapped in bandages and the parts of your skin that you can see are black and blue. When you lift the blanket, you can see a small clear tube protruding from your chest. Still, it’s impossible. You had only been driving for a few minutes. “What happened? The accident?”

“I-It was a hit-and-run,” your mother responds shakily. “They T-boned your car and drove away. There were witnesses, but no cameras and nobody got a license plate. They put out a notice for the car.”

You swallow. Despite your injuries, it seems like you’re unable to feel anything at all. Please, no… 

There’s a soft knock at the door. “Y/n?” You look up and through the dark fog in your head you feel a tinge of shock.

Standing in front of you, wearing blue scrubs and a mask, is… your neighbor.

“Jimin?”

Jimin nods. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through. I just need to adjust your IV – are you in pain?”

“No- yes.” As soon as the word escapes your mouth, feeling spills back into your body. Fuck. Suddenly you can’t breathe, your chest feels like it’s on fire, and your leg… “It hurts really badly.”

“Let me increase the morphine dosage.” He steps towards the machines and IV to which you’re hooked up and fiddles with some buttons.

Your heart feels as though it’s stopped on Taehyung. You refuse to believe it, and so you refuse to grieve. “I didn’t know you were a doctor,” you say to Jimin. Your voice sounds like a robotic copy of itself. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your mother glancing at you with worry.

“I’m not, I’m a nurse,” he replies. 

“You take good care of her, you hear?” Your mom says to Jimin, clearly understanding your silent signal not to bring up Taehyung. She was lying – he has to be fine.

Jimin nods firmly, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Yes, ma’am. She’ll be up and about soon, but for now she needs rest.”

As your mom rises slowly from her chair beside your bed, she grasps Jimin’s hand in hers. “Make sure she’s okay.”

“I will.”

Once your mom leaves, your eyelids feel heavy. Your brain is foggy with distorted thoughts of Taehyung. Why can’t you remember anything? “What time is it?”

“Three in the morning,” Jimin supplies.

That surprises you. “It’s been hours.” 

“It has.” “Do you know what happened to the awards ceremony?”

“The… what?”

Of course he doesn’t. Why should he? You sink as far as you can into your pillow, wishing only that it would suffocate you. It feels like there’s an all-consuming black hole in your chest, clawing at every part of you. Taehyung. Taehyung. Taehyung.

“I’m sorry about your husband,” Jimin says gravely. “I met him several times. He was a very kind man.”

“He’s not gone,” you reply stubbornly. He can’t be. “I just need to get better and get home.” Tae will be there.

Jimin pauses. “We’ll do our best.”

“Thank you.”

“The doctor will be back in soon,” Jimin adds. “I can give you something to help you sleep after.”

“Oh, you’re an angel.” After everything that’s happened, you don’t think you can ever sleep again. At least, not until you’re with Taehyung. Surely, the doctor will be able to tell you the truth. 

The doctor comes in, a middle-aged Black woman who introduces herself as Dr. Greene. She walks you through your injuries and the path to recovery. “Luckily, they could have been a lot worse,” she says, eyeing your chart appreciatively. “You should be discharged in two weeks, give or take. After that, it’ll be a while still with your leg in a cast. You’ll have to come back for more check-ups. And as soon as your lung heals, we want you to start physical therapy to counteract all the bed rest. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Where is my husband?” You ask desperately. Behind Dr. Greene, you see Jimin’s face has turned stony. “He was in the car with me, his name is Kim Taehyung–”

“Your husband has passed away,” the doctor says simply, quietly. “I’m sorry.”

At last, with this authority figure having sealed his fate, you allow yourself to cry for Taehyung. Loud, animalistic sobs tear from your chest until your abused ribs and lungs can’t support you anymore and you collapse, screaming silently into hands that hurt to lift. 

“Y/n…”

“It’s not fair. It’s not fair! It should have been me.” The two of you were only on your way to the dinner because of you. It’s your fault. Your fault. Your fault. “It should have been me!”

You feel fingertips lightly touch your aching shoulder. From his earlier position near the doorway, Jimin is suddenly right next to you. “No, it shouldn’t have. And it’s not your fault, Y/n,” he says. 

“Grief is natural and necessary, really, for the healing process,” Dr. Greene adds. “But Nurse Jimin is right, you shouldn’t blame yourself.” She looked back at her chart. “Jimin, you’re on call for the night, yes?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Keep an eye on her pain levels. Y/n, if you’re uncomfortable or need anything during the night, press this button and Jimin will come check in on you, alright?”

You nod numbly. You don’t care. You hope you do die during the night, so you can at least be with Taehyung. 

Jimin leaves and returns in what feels like both an hour and two seconds, holding a clear bag full of liquid and a bottle of pills.

“Take one of these to help you sleep. This is for your blood pressure – it’s still low – and we’ve added more morphine.”

You simply hold out your hand for the bottle, shake out a pill, and swallow it down without water. Why would you need water when the love of your life is gone?

“Remember, press the button if you need anything,” Jimin says. “I’ll be right here for you.”

“Mm.” You turn over as much as you comfortably can and almost immediately fall into a hopefully dreamless sleep.

If only you were so lucky.

The crash. The moment of the shooting star. Over and over and over again.

“Y/n! Come on, baby, wake up!” You can’t see anything, but you can hear his voice. “They’ll be here soon, you have to hang on for me, okay?”

7.

“Help! Somebody help! No, she’s worse than me, hurry up!”

H.

“Miss? Can you hear me?” 

“Shit, he’s coding!”

L.

“Y/n?” You feel yourself being gently shaken, and still half-dreaming, your body gives a great shudder from the accident. “I’m sorry to wake you. I just need to take your vitals.”

“Blue,” you reply, barely able to form the word. You saw it. “The car was blue.” 

When you look up, you realize that it’s not Jimin, but a nurse you’ve never seen before. She pauses for a moment, clearly perplexed, before she blinks.

“Oh! You were in a car accident?”

“The car was blue,” you continue, scared to lose the thought. You’re a professor of writing at a top university, you should be able to express yourself more fluently. But your words seem to escape you before you can capture them. “License 7-H-L.”

“Oh, my… the nurse looks around before grabbing a pen clipped to her scrubs and scribbling the numbers onto a notepad beside you. “You’re a regular detective!”

“Where’s Jimin?” You ask. You don’t know this new nurse, but at least you trust Jimin.

“Oh, his shift ended,” she replies. “He’ll be back tonight! In the meantime, can you tell me how you feel?”

“I’m… dizzy. My heart…” You can hear it pounding hard in your ears, far too quickly, and leaving you lightheaded. Your whole body hurts, centralized in your leg and chest, far worse than last night.

“Your blood pressure must have gone back to normal, let me get that saline off for you. How’s the pain? Your morphine should have worn off by now.”

You wince. “Bad.”

“Okay, I’ll adjust that.” The nurse fiddles with your IV before turning back to you. “I think your mother will be here soon. In the meantime, is there anything I can do for you?”

“Actually… can you tell her not to come?” A wave of guilt tries to wash over you, but it’s overpowered by the darkness already inside. “I just want to sleep today. She shouldn’t bother.” You pause. “I don’t want any visitors.” “Ah- sure thing, whatever you’d like,” the nurse chirps hesitantly. “Oh, and… what happened to your hair?”

“What do you mean?”

The nurse points. “You’re missing a chunk of hair, I’m guessing from the accident. Hey, maybe when you get out you can try a new style!”

“Yeah, maybe.” You lay back down and stare at the ceiling, wishing only that it would fall apart and crush you. What’s the point of anything without Taehyung? But… what about your students, your classes?

The day passes in a blur, and your intermittent napping keeps you barely aware of your surroundings. You don’t dream of the crash again – it’s a blessing, but at the same time you wish you could remember the rest of the license plate. You finally awaken for real once dusk has settled on the hospital.

You press the button, and immediately Jimin is in your room. “What can I do for you, Y/n?”

You take a deep breath. “Can you please bring me a pad of paper and a pencil?” You were a teenager when your father passed away, and writing was the only thing that saved you then. Perhaps it will be your healing salve now.

“Sure, there’s paper right-” Jimin pauses beside your bed before handing you the pad of paper. “Here, sorry. And you can use one of my pens. How are you feeling?”

“Groggy,” you reply. You’re surprised by how weak your grip on the pencil feels. “Numb. It hurts, but…”

“I’ll make a note for the doctor. Don’t worry, I promised your mom that I’d help you get better. Your lung should be healing soon,” Jimin says. “But I need to change the bandages on your chest tube, if that’s okay?” “Yeah.” You forgot it was there, the clear tube coming out of your chest. It’s held in place with bandages, which Jimin carefully removes before cleaning off your skin and placing new ones down. He’s wearing a silver locket that you’ve never noticed before. It suits him, shining against his skin.

“Thank you,” you say as he finishes taking your vitals. 

“I’m happy to help.”

The next week passes in a blur; between crying fits for Taehyung, assuring your mother that you’re alright, scribbling down everything on your mind, and forcing yourself to sleep simply to avoid the reality of waking hours, you barely have a second to consider your own healing process.

It isn’t until Dr. Greene beams at you that you register: physically, you’re feeling a lot better, and after a week of bed rest and god awful depression, you’re ready to try hobbling around. 

“Looks like you might actually get out a few days early,” Dr. Greene says. “We’ll be able to remove that chest tube tonight.” Beside you, your mother begins crying with relief. 

“Wonderful.” It’s still hard to smile, but you manage a weak attempt. Later that day, you hear a bit of commotion in the hallway, and soon the nurse brings in a huge basket of cards, flowers, and stuffed animals.

“Woah… what’s all this?” With effort, you sit up and take the offered basket. The sweet smell of the flowers is a welcome change to the cold sanitation of the hospital. 

“From your students!” The nurse says happily. “Some even sent you books!”

“Aww, they’re sweet.” You flip through one of the books and notice that all your advisees have signed the title page and scribbled well-wishes in the margins of the chapters. Their kindness and love sparks your first real smile since the accident.

You spend the day reading, counting down the hours until your chest tube is removed. When you’re finally wheeled to the OR and numbed up so they can sew the hole in your chest shut, you feel relief. Your leg is still in a cast, but at least your body is fighting for you. 

That night, you’re drifting off to sleep when you feel a painful tugging on your chest, right where your stitches are. “Mm?” You blink sleepily and see Jimin’s silhouette standing over you.

“Ah, Y/n. I’m sanitizing your wound so it heals well, don’t mind me. How are you feeling?”

“I’m a little sore,” you reply honestly. “It’s not too bad, though.” “Let me fix that for you.” You can see Jimin’s dark figure change something on your IV. “That’ll help you feel better.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, feeling sleep begin to overtake you.

“It’s my pleasure, Y/n.” That night, your dreams are choppy and chaotic. At one point, you dream that your body is on fire; at another, you’re back in the accident but instead of Taehyung, it’s Jimin. The sun has barely risen before you bolt upwards. “Gah!” Your throat is burning, dry, painful – it feels like you’ve swallowed sand.

It must be extra early, because Jimin is still there. He rushes to your bedside. “Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“I- who are you? I need… water…” you croak, your vision swimming before you. You don’t know who this man is, and you don’t know where you are. You can vaguely feel yourself falling backwards.

“Okay, let me get you some- wait, Y/n!”

~~~

You awaken with Jimin, Dr. Greene, and another nurse standing over you. Packed in bed beside you are several ice packs. Even so, you feel your body sweating. 

“What… happened?” You manage. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth.

“You woke up with a bad fever. It’s lucky Jimin thought fast and worked to cool you down.” Dr. Greene said. “We’ll have to keep you monitored for longer than we anticipated.”

“W-Why do I have a fever?”

Dr. Greene’s brows knit together. “I… I’m not sure. We’ll keep an eye on you for the next couple of days and see if anything changes.”

Your fever goes up and down throughout the day, occasionally spiking dangerously enough that the monitors around you begin to beep in alarm. Around noon, Jimin comes in with water and a bottle of pills. He’s wearing a lopsided Santa hat along with his scrubs.

“Merry almost-Christmas. Here, take two for the fever.”

“What are you doing here?” You ask weakly. Even in your fever-addled mind, you remember he only comes at night.

“My shift changed. You need more urgent care anyways, and I volunteered.”

You swallow down the pills and nod. “Thanks.”

“Your bruises have improved,” Jimin observes, lightly touching your face.

“I guess. Fuck.” You feel the sudden urge to douse yourself in cold water. “I just want to get out of here.”

Jimin is quiet for a moment. “Have they found the car that hit you?”

“How would I know?” You feel a wave of dizziness hit you, likely brought on by a heartbeat that never seems to slow down. “Jimin, please…” Save me.

“We’ll see how you’re doing tomorrow,” Jimin says. “For now, you should stay awake. What’s your favorite color?”

“Uh, green.”

“Favorite food?” You can barely think. “Sushi.”

Jimin grins. “Favorite neighbor?”

You try to summon a chuckle. “Whichever one is saving my life.”

“Fantastic. I’ll see you later tonight. Your mother should be in here soon – let me adjust your pain meds, we kept you off of them from the fever but they might just help.”

The night feels eternal; you can’t sleep a wink, and your mother stays with you the whole night. Your fever continues to climb and although at first your breathing is rapid to cool you down, by the time the sun rises it feels as though your lungs have stopped working entirely. You don’t know if that’s normal for a fever.

“Doctor!” Your mother calls for what feels like the thousandth time. 

Dr. Greene hurries into the room, Jimin right behind her. “Is it her fever?”

“No, it’s…” Your mother points wordlessly at your hands. You can’t see what she’s talking about, but when you raise your hands you see your fingertips are blue. You can’t think. You can’t breathe. You don’t care. Everything is fuzzy, so fuzzy… the monitors are beeping again, but you can barely hear them. You’re gasping for air now, choking on nothing. You can’t breathe.

“Doctor Greene,” Jimin says loudly, “I think she’s overdosing.”

“Lord, you may be right. Get the Narcan!”

Jimin darts out of the room and returns just as your eyes begin to flutter closed. Taehyung… 

~~~

There’s a cliff. Taehyung is there, you know it. You just need to jump. The moment you start walking, though, it’s almost as if you’re being pulled away from the edge. No! You open your eyes. Has it been minutes? Days?

“Dear god,” your mother says breathlessly. “She’s awake.”

“How on earth…?” Dr. Greene wonders, wiping her forehead. “Jimin, props to you for your quick thinking. But an overdose? How?”

“Doctor, it’s possible that with her weakness and weight loss, plus the fact that we held off the morphine for several days, an average dose might have caused her to OD.” Jimin suggests. His voice seems to carry more authority than even Dr. Greene’s.

“Yes, perhaps… but the fever?”

“Hm…” Jimin reaches forward and prods at the stitches on your chest. You immediately flinch, your raspy voice yelping in pain. “An infection. Possibly blood poisoning.”

“You know, you really might be right,” Dr. Greene says thoughtfully. “It’s not impossible. Okay, we’ll start you on an antibacterial and switch to lower-grade painkillers.” With this note, Dr. Greene and Jimin file out, leaving you with your mother.

“Momma, did you ever find the car?” You ask, gripping her hand urgently. The owner of that car killed your husband; you want them brought to justice.

“No, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“What about the license plate?”

“Well, none of the witnesses saw it-”

“No,” you shake your head. “I- the nurse wrote it down. On…” you point to the notepad beside you. “The first page.”

Your mother picks up the abused pad of paper, filled with random journal entries and doodles, and flips to the front. “Y/n, there’s nothing here. It’s blank. Maybe you dreamed it?”

“What? No.” You’re sure that the nurse wrote it down for you. “Check on the floor.”

After a brief but thorough search, the paper doesn’t turn up. What had happened? You can’t possibly remember the partial plate now. Shit. And even so, it was a literal fever dream – you could have made the numbers up.

“Y/n, I’m going to go for an early Christmas dinner at Aunt Ella’s, but I’ll be back tomorrow morning, okay?” 

“Sure, mom.” She’s barely slept, after all. 

The next several days pass and you gradually begin to recover. The lab tests confirmed your blood poisoning, and you feel more grateful than ever that Jimin managed to catch it early – it could have killed you. It’s now been more than two weeks since the accident, and finally the doctor tells you that you’ll be ready to go home soon. As Christmas approaches, you’ve heard holiday music float through the air and bows and wreaths appear in your hospital room and down the hall. Even with the holiday cheer, the loss of the license plate weighs heavy on your mind.

“Merry Christmas Eve! Time to get up and try walking around!” The afternoon nurse says cheerfully as she helps you out of bed. With your heavy green cast making your leg feel detached, you clunk around while holding the nurse’s arm. You near the window, which overlooks a parking lot decorated with dirty snow, and gaze down onto the cars. Can you ever feel safe in a car again?

“Which one’s yours?” You ask the nurse absentmindedly, suddenly struck by another bolt of grief. Her life is normal. She has a car and goes to work.

“That white one right there next to the blue Prius,” she replies, pointing. You mindlessly follow her finger, when suddenly –

Blue. You clutch at your chest and stumble backwards, nearly falling if she hadn’t caught you. “That’s…” No, it can’t be. But in your heart and deep, deep in your memory… “Can you read the plate number on that blue car next to yours?”

“Uh, it’s a little too far away,” she replies, squinting. “I think it’s Jimin,’s though, I always see him pulling in just as my shift is over.”

Jimin. “Does it look dented at all?” You manage. “His car?”

“Ah… a little? I’m not sure.”

Jimin does have a blue Prius, you know that from seeing it in his driveway every day. So why, today, did the thought strike you so violently?

“You know, I think I’m tired. I’m going to lay down.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want some water or to go to the bathroom?”

“No. I just want to be alone.”

“Okay.” The nurse looks worried, but leaves you settled back in your bed. Night falls quickly and you hear a knock on the door. Jimin lets himself in, a bottle of pills in his hand.

“Hey, I heard you’ll be getting discharged soon,” he says cheerfully. He’s still wearing the Santa hat.

Blue. “Yeah, hopefully.”

“Awesome. Well, you need to take these,” he says, shaking two pills from the bottle in his hand and handing them to you.”

“What are they for?”

“They’ll help you sleep and let your blood vessels dilate to regulate your blood pressure.”

“Mm.” You wash them down with his offered water. Almost as soon as you swallow, you feel your body rebel against you – you lean over and vomit onto the floor. The smell makes you gag and you feel everything you’ve eaten come up a second time, the stomach acid burning your throat.

“What- what did you give-” you can’t finish your sentence as your stomach convulses again. Jimin rushes over to you with a bucket and you lean into it, retching. You continue dry heaving long after your body is completely emptied, while Jimin rubs your back reassuringly. “G-get the doctor,” you croak.

“Are you going to be okay alone-?” “Yes. Please, just…” your body shivers as he gets up and leaves. What did he give you? You’re doubtless that those pills caused your vomiting. Just the thought sends you back to your bucket, although you’ve no more left to give. 

“What on earth happened?” Dr. Greene says, rushing in. Jimin is close behind her.

“He gave me pills…” you gasp as your body tries to vomit again. The muscle contractions leave you feeling boneless. “They made me throw up.”

“You’ve got no known allergies on file…” Dr. Greene says, consulting a chart by your bed. “Jimin, what did you give her?”

Jimin produces a bottle clearly labelled DOXEPINE. “Just to help her sleep, she was asking for something earlier.”

Your heart drops. “That’s not-” you’re interrupted by another gagging fit. You want to scream at your body that there’s nothing left, but you can barely speak. “Not the same-” fuck.

“She must have a sensitivity to the Doxepine,” Dr. Greene says thoughtfully. “Jimin, make sure she stays hydrated. If she keeps throwing up we’ll need to keep her longer for observation.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Ngh… no…” Dr. Greene leaves before you can tell her that that wasn’t the same pill bottle.

“Here, drink this,” Jimin says, offering you a bottle of water.

“What did you give to me?” You ask, panting. As soon as the water touches your tongue you reach for the bucket, your body rejecting it immediately.

Jimin blinks innocently. “Sleeping pills.”

“Fuck off, that wasn’t the… same bottle.”

“Y/n, you’re sick and grieving, it’s understandable that your eyes are playing tricks on you-”

“No. You… poisoned me!” You summon what strength you have left and swipe at the nurse, who’s now leaning over you. Your fingers catch the silver chain around his neck, and the motion knocks the locket open.

Fluttering out of the locket and onto your bandaged chest is… hair?

No, not hair. Your hair. The color, and texture… it’s exactly the same.

You’re missing a chunk of hair, I’m guessing from the accident, the nurse had said.

Not from the accident. Almost in slow motion, your eyes travel up to meet Jimin’s. 

“Y/n, you’re acting erratic.” As if nothing happened, he plucks your hair from the bed, tucks it back into the locket, and straightens his Santa hat. “I’ll have to tell the doctor to consider sedatives. Merry Christmas, Y/n.”

“No-” Your stomach contracts once more and by the time you look up, gasping for breath, he’s gone.

You spend another sleepless night in the hospital, growing more paranoid by the minute. You refuse to eat or drink anything you’re given – you’re still nauseous, and what if it’s full of sedatives? 

When dawn breaks on Christmas Day, you’ve never felt less cheer. You’re concerned about Jimin; the car is surely a coincidence, but the hair? And the pills?

“Y/n?” Dr. Greene knocks on the door. “Merry Christmas. How are you feeling?”

“I want to get out of here,” you respond immediately.

Dr. Greene smiles. “We’ll see how you do moving around today. How’s your nausea?” 

“Better,” you lie. Anything to leave. You can handle nausea at home.

“Wonderful. Well, Nurse Jimin will be taking care of you today, since your other nurses are off duty. Press the button if you need anything.”

You nod, shivering. Should you tell Dr. Greene? Before you can consider it, though, she’s left the room.

Hours later, Jimin pops his head in, his Santa hat crooked. The locket is still swinging from his neck. 

“Hey! Dr. Greene said if you’re doing well by the end of the day, you might be discharged for tomorrow!”

You stare at him. Can he really pretend nothing is wrong? “Great.”

“Let’s get you up and walking around.” Jimin offers you his arm. At first you don’t want to take it, but your legs are too weak on your own. He slowly leads you out of your room and down the hall before circling back. You pass another window overlooking the parking lot and there, in the same spot, is the blue car. From this window, you can see much better.

“Which car’s yours?” you ask quietly.

“That blue Prius next to the white one,” he says cheerfully, pointing.

Finally, when you squint you can read the license plate: 7HLC946.

7HL. Your body stiffens. It’s the same car. Then, that means… you swivel slowly until you’re staring at Jimin, who’s still looking out of the window. He killed your husband.

He leads you back to your room. You feel frozen, and not from the wintertime. When you go inside, you hear a soft click. Your eyes widen. He locked the door.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly from behind you.

“F-fine. Perfect,” you reply, your voice shaking.

“You know, you really have to stop getting yourself in trouble,” he says, strolling to the bed and smoothing down your sheets. Your eyes dart to the locked door. If you made a break for it with your cast, he could still beat you to it. “Every time you’re supposed to get discharged, something happens, and then who has to save you?”

“I’ve recovered,” you say firmly. Is it an ego thing? He wants credit for doing his job?

“Before, you always had your husband to save you,” Jimin says, standing. His eyes are drilling holes into you. “Do you know why he’d always see you off at the door?”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” “It’s so I couldn’t even look at you. He was always around, but not this time. And this time it was me that saved your life.” Jimin is advancing now, still smiling serenely. Your heart pounding, you back away, your cast clunking against the floor. 

“It was you,” you whisper when your back hits the window. “Your car. You hit us.”

“Almost gave me a heart attack when I saw you remembered my plate,” he says now, examining his nails. “Lucky I saw it before your mother did. How is she, by the way?”

“You… you killed my husband!” Your scream is more animal than human when it rips from your throat. You’re fully prepared to leap at Jimin and take the life he took from Taehyung when he pulls out a syringe.

“Shhh…” he says, stepping forward. “What did I say about sedation?”

Your blood runs cold. You don’t want to know what’s in the syringe, or what he’d do to you if he injected you with it.

Caught between him and the window, you freeze. You have to get away from him. You turn around and swing your heavy cast at the window. 

With a painful CRASH, the glass shatters. Shards fly everywhere, several of them catching and slicing your skin. You hear commotion outside and below as you shoot for the window and try to grab onto the windowsill. You nearly sob when the glass in your grip breaks off the windowsill. Almost… just like your dream of the cliff, though, you’re dragged back from the escape. Jimin locks one arm around your neck and pulls you away from the window.

You feel a sharp prick in your arm and, seconds later, your muscles seem to melt. If Jimin weren’t supporting your weight you would have fallen. Shit. What did he do to you?

“It’s for your own good, my love,” he says, carrying you to the bed and tucking the blankets in around you. Your tongue feels too heavy for your mouth; you can’t speak, and you can barely move your arms. 

There’s a loud banging on the door. “Y/n! Are you alright?”

“One second,”Jimin says to you before striding to the door and opening it.

“Jimin! What happened?” The voice belongs to a doctor you don’t recognize.

“Hey, Dr. Kim. Y/n started being combative and went for the window. Luckily, I got her calmed down and back into bed.”

Help. Your vocal chords won’t respond to you. “Hhe…”

“Goodness. We should get her moved out while the window is being repaired.” “I agree, but she did just fall asleep and she hasn’t slept in a while. I suggest giving her an hour.”

“Alright, well, please keep an eye on her.”

“Sure thing, Doctor.” Jimin shuts the door and locks eyes with you. 

“I’ve waited for you for a while, you know,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. His position pins down your left arm, but your right is still free. If only you could move it. “You never got sick, or hurt. I checked. You never even came to visit.” Jimin continues smiling, but his eyes are cold. “That wasn’t very nice. It’s your fault that I had to make you come visit.”

“Stuh… you,” you gasp, forcing your head to clear. “Psy…” Let me go, you want to scream. You’re straining with the effort just to lift your head.

“I know, I know, why didn’t I just talk to you at your house? Well, your guardian was always there. But here, I’m in control. And I’m the one that can save you.”

You can sense feeling returning to your arms. If he keeps talking, it might give you more time to recover from your paralysis. Luckily, Jimin seems so relieved that he can finally tell you everything that he doesn’t seem close to shutting up. 

“Do you know how many times your mother has thanked me for saving your life? How Dr. Greene said I was her favorite nurse?” Jimin caresses your cheek, becoming more animated as he speaks. “Even you, Y/n, you called me your angel.”

You try to bite him when his hand gets close, but your jaw muscles are slack. C’mon… 

“And you’re right, I am your angel. I’m your guardian angel, and I’ll always keep you safe.” You can almost lift your hand. At his words, he leans in to kiss your forehead and with enormous effort, you use the same moment to lift and swipe your bloody hand, still gripping the jagged glass from the window, at him. The glass catches Jimin right in the neck and he gasps and sputters, pressing a hand to his throat as bright red blood gushes from the wound, spattering you and staining the bed. Meanwhile, you collapse, your strength entirely spent.

Jimin staggers upright, hand outstretched towards you. When he tries to speak, his voice is a mere gurgle.

“Y/n- you… no…” with that, he falls to the floor. You see him try and fail to rise again before Jimin sighs and is still at last.

How did you wind up here? 

As you slump back into your bed, with him lying on the floor next to you, a hazy thought informs you that it must look like a scene straight out of Romeo and Juliet.

Although, you think ruefully, glancing down at the sharp shard of glass clenched in your fits, I don’t think Juliet would have done this.

“Merry fucking Christmas.”

[minithefutureawaits09]

To follow up on an earlier post

Link to AOS:

❤️Absolutely Smitten❤️

- TOS Spirk edition

A/n:

It gets pretty angsty so hold on.

Also know in this Fic, Bones doesn’t know the details about Tarsus IV that info is extremely classified and really, only select people know about it. So it’s really been swept under the carpet in this particular fic.

--

Spock heads down the hallway and to Jim’s quarters. Buzzing in as he always does.

....

No response.

So he tried again.

...

No response.

Now things were getting a little concerning. So when he buzzed for a third time and got no response he types in the override code for Jim’s quarters. Absolutely worried sick, and he realized standing there that...

Spock can’t feel their bond.

That prospect alone sends his heart racing even faster than his normal resting heart rate. Yet he swallows his panic as the doors open with their familiar squeak and he’s engulfed into a warm dark room. The doors squeak again as they closed behind him.

“Jim? My Jim, where are you? Are you alright?”

The worry while he can control it physically, slips into his tone. Eyes already adjusting for the darkness of the room, a small tribute to his Vulcan biology. His eyes adjust much quicker than a humans does.

“Go away Spock.”

Came the sharpest reply the Vulcan’s almost positive he’s ever heard. While the words themselves were not super harmful, the tone punctured.

On the bed was a small heep of blankets, he can only assume that huddled in all of those blankets was his Husband. He allows himself to frown and his brows to furrow. Jim never wanted him to leave whenever he was upset, always wanting him to hold close and not let go. So something, although going through his eidetic memory he doesn’t see anything.

“Jim, My-“

“I said Go. Away. Commander. Consider it an order from your Captain.” 

Something was really wrong then. Yet he would not leave Jim’s side. Whatever it was, he had made a vow until death did they part. He wasn’t leaving.

“Then you will need to fill out the insubordination paperwork shortly.”

He sees the blankets move, and he can only assume he is being looked at.

“I am not leaving K’diwa. I am your bond mate, and I am worried about you. You did not answer your door, I cannot feel our bond, and your tone is enough evidence that there is something bothering you. I vowed to care for you and I intend to get to the bottom of it, so if that means facing insubordination charges then I will.”

More ruffling of sheets and blankets, and now he can see his bond mate. The dark brown hair, and make out his eyes in the darkness. Hand reached out towards him, and the pain is so sharp at the horrible broken voice his beloved uses. Their bond floods open and he can feel all of the jagged edges of self hatred attacking Jim’s mind.

“S-Sp-ock-”

His feet move on their own and in moments flat Spock had Jim in his lap still wrapped in a couple of blankets but held firmly. He sobs begging apologies from his lips and promises to never leave him. Every broken sound that leaves him makes the Vulcan’s heart ache, and wanting to tear apart whoever caused these precious tears to spill.

He assures Jim that he did no wrong, that he did not feel any hurt emotions at his words. That there was nothing there other than his overwhelming concern for the person he values the most. That he will always be there. Always.

He sends all of the pure intense love he feel for the brunette in his lap and reassurance through their bond to Jim. Using their physical proximity as an easy way to tap into his beloved’s head in gentle attempts to soothe the hurt he can feel. Whatever caused this got him good, where it hurt.

Eventually he calmed and Spock whispers gently resting his forehead against his human’s,

“K’diwa, My James, will you tell me now what is wrong?”

... There’s hesitation showing in those hazel eyes staring up at him,

“I promise you, no matter what you say, I will listen to every word.”

...

“Is there a problem with how I eat, Spock?”

What? That was such an odd question. Yet with those hazel eyes hanging onto his every moment for his reply he placed a gentle kiss to his forehead and answered,

“I have never seen it vary from normal that would produce the need for comment or medical intervention.”

...

“Do I hoard food, Spock?”

Spock instead of answering taps into their bond and catches just the thought of one event.

Tarsus IV

“Ha’su, does this have to do with Tarsus IV?”

He asks and Jim looks away ashamed- he knows he’s ashamed because he can’t hide it this close to Spock. Yet using one hand he guides his beautiful hazel gaze back to his own.

“My K’diwa, Tarsus IV is an indescribable horror you had to face at such a young age. I know you have tried your best to heal some of those wounds. I know this trauma will haunt you for the rest of your life, and it will always affect how you eat. A famine and genocide. Yes, I do notice you have a few non-perishable items around your quarters. However, I simply attributed them to the fact Humans need to eat more frequently.”

He runs a hand through those brown locks he loves so, so very much. He watches as those lips, a little swollen from his cries open,

“When food became such a struggle and for so long...I-I just—”

“Shh. You need not explain yourself to me. Your trauma and struggle with food is not invalid. It will never ever. Ever. Be invalid.”

This brings back a smaller wave of tears as his husbands arms wrapped around his neck rather then around his middle as they were originally.

“Did someone bring this up?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“Bones. Though he didn’t bring Tarsus itself up, he just made a comment on my eating habits and it well...Lead to an argument. He doesn’t know the full story though. I just haven’t told him yet because I haven’t been ready to. He only knows what my records say. Which isn’t much because the federation wanted to keep it hush hush.”

Spock nodded. So he would have to make a trip to Medbay and have an informative discussion with Dr. McCoy.

“Please don’t be mad at Him. He doesn’t know,”

“I am not mad because he did not know. However, I will be having a conversation with him if you are amenable to that to inform him of it so you will not have to.”

He feels a gentle nod at his words. Agreeing with him

‘I love you, and thank you for not leaving me alone and being willing to talk to Bones for me.’

‘I love you too, my Jim. I am absolutely smitten for thee, and I wish you to never forget that. Sleep now,’

‘I won’t, I promise I will never forget...’

Sleep the brunette does. It’s almost mere moments and he feels their bond gently going dormant. It’s still several moments before he gently rests his husband down and goes to speak with McCoy.

—

(Bonus scenes because I feel like it)

—

“Oh my god,”

Leonard’s hand his over his mouth. He was sitting at his desk as Spock had advised him to do so. Shock and guilt coated over himself.

“I didn’t know, I swear-”

“He informed me of such. I am not mad Dr. McCoy. I simply wished for you to understand.”

“I need to go apologize-”

“He is resting, however I am willing to let you know when he wakes.”

“Yes. Right. Thank you, Spock. I promise, I never would of said anything if I’d known. The only thing in his files says is he’s a Tarsus IV survivor. Nothing more. I never even knew what it was until now.”

“I understand Dr. McCoy.”

And he does.

“I will leave you to process this, and to go attend to Jim when he wakes.”

Leonard nodded as Spock exited.

-

Spock was holding Jim as he yawns and those Hazel eyes open. He doesn’t say anything but he can feel the gentle buzz in his head from seeing that his husband was still here just as he promised he would be.

“Commander Spock to Medbay,”

..

“Medbay here, What is it?”

“The Captain is awake if you wish to see him,”

“Alright. Be up in 15 minutes.”

“Noted. Spock out,”

The transmission was cut.

His partner seemed confused, so Spock relayed the message.

“He wishes to apologize directly, and I said I would inform him of your awakening.”

A simple nod comes from Jim.

...

It was actually less than 15 minutes when Bones shows up. Normally Leonard would say something to get them apart, but given what happened he isn’t going to say a thing about Spock holding Jim.

“Jim?”

The brunette’s head turns to look at his best friend.

“Hey, I wanted to apologize for what I said.”

He sits down on the edge of the bed. Spock watches as those hazel eyes follow him.

“Jim, god. I never, I never would have said any- any of that if I had known. I promise you. I had no idea what sort of demon you deal with every time you go to eat in your head.”

“It’s alright-”

“It’s not though Jim. I shouldn’t have said those things in-”

“Leonard.”

The doctors name makes him fall quiet.

“Leonard, You didn’t know. I hadn’t told you...Yet now that you know, could we schedule an appointment to maybe..do something about it?”

“Maybe try some anti-anxiety medications?”

Jim nodded.

“You got it kiddo. Whenever you’re ready you just let me know alright?”

“Alright.”

Bones gives a nod to Spock who had been silent for this whole time. He knows that means to gently and lovingly encourage him to do so in the near future. He leaves but not before Jim surprised them both by pulling the doctor into a hug. They held on for just a few moments and even Spock could tell the world was alright once more. The doctor then left, and Spock went back to holding his partner. Humming as he gently guided him back to sleep, and shortly drifted off after.

[punzwastaken]

hey guys ive been neglecting october

so here's some short phrases of bs to distract me from my midterms

I went too far on the karlwastaken one woopsies

Table of Contents:

1. Chains || punzwastaken (irl)

4. Flowers || Karlwastaken (DSMP)

1. Chains || punzwastaken (irl)

Clay and Luke have been secretly online dating for quite a while now, over the summer throughout the beginning of fall. When there was a planned Halloween meet-up featuring them in a Mr. Beast video, they couldn't resist taking a relationship one step further. Checking into the hotel rooms that Jimmy bought for them

They have already planned costumes to use for the video (and personal reasons but shhhhshshh), having a bit of persuading to be done to have matching outfits. The video had something to do with a "Fancy Haunted Feast" or something. Clay had a special aspect to his costume that Luke couldn't resist commenting on, hanging and wrapping chains. Clay still had to wear a dumb-looking Ghostface mask because he still hasn't revealed what he looks like, yet.

- - -

Fast forwards to the morning of November first, an alarm blared in Luke's room-- set for 9:00am. When he reached over to turn it off, there was an extra body of mass in his way. The shirtless, maskless, and infamous Dreamwastaken. His chest was littered with fading marks and there was still a chain wrapped around his neck.

4. Flowers || Karlwastaken (DSMP) // Hanahaki, unrequited love, blood, flower petals, vomiting, death, bad ending

Dream had hopped around through timelines in the form of a lime green protector: DreamXD. Observing what he can through the sleep of his own, he watches his love closely. If he tried to get a closer look at what he wanted to see, the protector would take over his vessel again-- Dream learned this the hard way.

One fateful day, he observed once more in the dream realm and watched Karl Jacobs, but he was knocked out and woke up in the prison cell-- sputtering and feeling liquid dribble down his mouth. Dream promptly sat up, spitting whatever solids were forming. There were blue buds and small white blooms mixed in with fresh, red blood.

The white flora was bell-shaped, having a connection to thin vines that seemed to grow the plants in a bell shape. The blue buds were unidentifiable to Dream and seemed more lavender in the light of the cracked obsidian. He remembered the lily-of-the-valleys and how he would gift them to Karl anonymously.

Dream didn't know what his condition was, and why he was spitting flowers. Was this a sign of something more? Is he going to die?

"Confused," the protector asked, simply floating at Dream's side. The response was a simple nod, for Dream had no will to speak-- just in case it would cause more petals to fall out.

DreamXD chuckled, resting a floating hand on the smaller being's shoulder. "Hanahaki. It seems like the universe has had enough of your examining and thinks you should do something about it."

Dreamwastaken didn't have to say anything. He knew that the protector understood his every thought. Dream knows that Karl is engaged to Sapnap and (possibly) Quackity. He didn't want to ruin more than he already has. What good will it do to shatter more than has already been disintegrated?

"Oh don't be so sad."

The mortal spoke through fresh, choked tears. "I can't... I can't not."

"You know so much, you know he won't remember a thing."

Oh, but that was another problem that Dream had. He would be forgotten by Karl because of the older's constant time travel. Catching up to him would be troublesome and maintaining bonds would add, too. It'd simply be a waste of time, but Dream loved the traveler.

DreamXD's head perked up, he sensed someone coming. Fading away, the mortal was left alone to face another day against Quackity-- who constantly pestered Dream about who the petals were for.

- - -

Days turned to months, the petals becoming worse and the vines that wrapped his lungs constricting airflow. Sam would come in every time the casino owner left, caring for the prisoner. It was mandatory, but in the passing time, he grew to be scared of what will happen to Dream.

Sam decided to stay with Dream, comforting the sheep-hybrid as he violently threw up more and larger flowers-- it was visible what they were now. Salvias, blue-toned, and lily-of-the-valleys-- just how Dream identified them himself.

A glow from behind the pair, DreamXD.

"Dream, you are requested," he spoke, holding out his hand. Sam knew he couldn't argue, this was practically a god. Dream walked up and was picked up, taken through a tear in the sky.

He was dropped off at the foot of a large, black marble manor. Exploring the area, he recognized it as "The Other Side." Dream tried walking, but his lip quivered and released an array of plants and blood. He felt like passing out, the pain rattling his bones.

Someone ran up to him, making sure that he didn't fall. Looking to see who it was,

"Karl?"

"I'm not sure who you are, or how you know my name, but we're going to get you some help-- okay," The hooded brunette responded, frantically reaching for medical equipment from his bag and stuttering on words.

"Kar--" Dream was cut off by a cough, "--l, it's Dream... Dreamwastaken, please I--"

"Try not to speak... Dream, it'll only make things worse," the other ordered, laying the blonde onto his back.

"Karl, listen, I love you. Do you love me? Please... Please it hurts.."

"I'm... I don't know you well enough, you sorta barged in here--"

"Please, I don't have much time left-- just... please, remember me, please..." Dream begged, using what was left of his strength to cling onto the soft fabric and round face.

Karl did as he was told, and remembered who the mysterious "Dream" man was. Maybe he could've saved him if he recognized who they were. A small journal, dedicated to the man, to store deep in the library. Maybe, one day, the universe will allow him to travel back and meet this man once more.

[albino-whumpee]

Fix me

Anonymous asked:

28. for Albus

Sorry for taking this long for this one!! Hope you like it

Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @crowned-avery @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @boxboysandotherwhump

CW// Institutionalized whump, pet whump, box boy universe blanket warning, heavy dehumanization, human trafficking, slavery, manipulation, brain washing, whumper as caretaker, PTSD, dissoci@tion, fucky mind space of abuse survivor and implied torture.

Harry Coleman didn´t particularly hated his job. It payed well despite the crazy long shifts and the strict protocols to go back to his apartment close to the city. He didn´t have many people outside the concrete building to care about, however. So he mostly stayed in the handler rooms the company kept around available inside the facility, mostly used by the Romantic division handlers.

Harry had been working enough years to see all types of trainees. The ones that had come banging and screaming, the ones that were so fearful that they complied and the ones that he rolled his eyes whenever they appeared. The real volunteers. The ones that looked so broken already and obeyed without really needing to be told how.

He hated the blank stares, the commands flawlessly followed. If there wasn´t a single inch of defiance for him to take out, what was the point? It made it too easy, and there was always, always, screaming.

He had been assigned to a handful of volunteers before, and hated every second of it. The ones that didn´t get an owner soon enough would stay on a limbo of the basic training until they were sold and the designation specific training started.

When he saw his new trainee get his number tattooed, red eyes lost in infinity, curling on the floor with a blanket with the lower half of his body bandaged up, he knew he was one of those.

He knew before he began screaming.

The intercommunicator on his shoulder was still buzzing after he was warned the trainee was acting up on his room again. Room… He could laugh about that. The trainee rooms were hardly bigger than a closet, really. They were always kept on the verge of claustrophobia… He brushed the thougt aside like always. Focused on his task.

Harry had been ordered to take him to the Drip again, with the reason that he might be relapsing. Memories not quite yet wiped out of him stopping the progress of his training.

Whatever trauma he´s dragging, his body remembers, even if his brain forgets. So it’s obvious everything in training is gonna trigger him, idiots. If you stopped letting whoever inside my job would be much easier! The thought came from somewhere inside his brain, yet again, putting it aside to be what they were paying him to be: the watcher keeping the product on check until shipping.

He had never had the intention of being anything else.

He stomped his way through the hall of metal doors to the seventeenth, pulled his card to the lector, hearing the wry cries of a kid terrified of another nightmare loud enough for the sound to slip through the supposedly, sound canceling walls.

The albino, with his hair clipped short now, with the shock collar wrapped around his throat, recoiled in the corner with an eerie cry when he saw him enter. His eyes jumped and trembled along his sickly thin body when Harry stepped closer.

“P-Please! Pl-ple- no! Stop, please!” the boy begged him curling tighter into himself, trying to protect himself from the steel point of the man´s boots. Or maybe something else, as he lifted his hands to cover his face as well. “Coronel please! Don´t touch her!”

The man took a deep breath and lowered himself, crouching to be on the same level. “Easy, trainee. Easy. I´m Handler Coleman. I won´t hurt you” Now at least, Harry thought to himself watching his face soaked in tears. Soothing them when necessary was just as part of his job as it was to break them “C´mon, I´m handler Harry, ´900. There´s only the two of us here. Tell me, ´900, where are you now?”

He knew the lost look on this one already. Had seen it plenty of times. Most of the them, it meant the trainee wasn´t present. Not really here. Just reliving something from his past that overlapped with the training, mixed up with whatever he had been dreaming about.

The boy´s breathing was labored and harsh. Wide, terrified eyes looked back at him weighting his words -processing them, maybe- and after a moment of hesitation he replied with a shaky voice “T-Trainee room, s-se-seventeen”

“That´s right” Harry said making a vague gesture with his hand “Do you see anybody else here with us?” the boy looked around, surprise and fear equally scattered on his face before shaking his head. “Words trainee”.

“No, sir. Only us” the boy rushed to answer. Harry took a step forward and the boy flinched away. “P-Please…”

“Relax boy, nothing has to hurt if you let me help you” the man saw him gulp as he took another step. Watched the boy shake violently trying to prevent himself from flinching away from his gloved hand. Harry retreated it to his lap, watched him for one more second.

Thin and small and battered, was what the albino trainee was. The bandages on his thighs peaked slightly from underneath his shorts, changed every day to check up the scarring. If he wasn´t bought to be a romantic then it would be no problem, he had been told.

The handler looked back up to meet the boy´s wide terrified eyes settled on him. Chest rising up and down too quickly.

“Give me your hands” the man ordered and the boy put his over the gloved hands that were never warm. He held them tight and put his best unthreatening voice “Breath boy, you´ve not earnt a punishment” he half lied watching the boy take big, desperate gasping breaths through the snot and tears. “There you go, easy. Go with me” he began to breath, and soon enough, the other joined him and relaxed, almost slouching over him from the tiredness.

“Thank you” the boy said to him in a hoarse voice. He checked below the shock collar and saw the bruise on his neck had already faded to a smear of yellow. The albino squeezed his hands before the man yanked them back. The boy quickly pulled his hands to his chest defensively. Knowing the baton on the man´s hip could swat them over if he decided he had done wrong at any moment.

“900, you know you shouldn´t scream”

“I´m sorry” the boy jumped to reply, panic taking over for a moment “I didn´t mean- I´m sorry. I know…But I-” Harry saw the trainee cast his eyes down, Looking through the bangs that fell over his face “I think I saw someone I remembered in…” he opened his mouth but never finished the thought.

“Trainees often have false memories, 900. You should know that” The man said, watching the boy hunch, sink on his narrow shoulders.

“B-but I have a feeling this one is real, Handler” he said barely above a whisper.

“How could you know?” Coleman said coldly, watching him press his lips into a tight line “Those memories don´t serve any purpose now, either. You don´t have a name any longer, 778900. Those memories don´t belong to you anymore”

“I-I know but-”

“If you know, then why are you arguing with me about it, 778900? You´re lying”

“I´m not lying!”

Coleman arched an eyebrow, “You´re talking back at me now?”

“N-No, I´m sorry, sir. I just-”

“Don´t bother apologizing” the man terminated, the boy´s jaw shut close in surrender. No fun at all, the man thought to himself. He still had to take him to the Drip as well… “There´s no need to worry, boy. Look what remembering does to you. Do you really need them?” He asked him, seeing him tense up and open his mouth. “The memories, they are terrifying aren´t they?” he interrupted him.

“Yes, sir…”

“Why would you want them, then?”

The boy stayed quiet and started rounding his thumbs before he settled his hand over them, before putting the other gloved on his cheek as he looked again with glassy eyes.

“Are you afraid of losing those memories, trainee? You came to have a better life. You chose this path for yourself. You wanted this when you signed to never again think for yourself. You chose leaving that to someone else and not having to worry about anything else″ he wiped the tears flowing down his cheek, already pink and shiny “What happened before is not important now, 900″ he said tilting his head as the boy let his hands fall to his lap. Still, like he was trained to, “We can fix you. Make it better for you. But you´ve gotta let go, yes?”

“How broken I was that now I only can hope to forget everything. Even the good.” he whispered under his breath and the boy could´ve sounded sharp and impress Coleman, but his voice was barely a murmur of something, or someone, who had that sharpness on them but at some moment, gave it up.

Harry Coleman had done nothing but to help that detachment.

“We just want the best for you” so we get payed just as well, Coleman kept to himself.

The boy looked at him through his pale, wet eyelashes with something close to hope. The naive hope of “better” the company made them aspire to within the cold walls of the facility and the exhaustion, plain to the view on his face. It was in order to make them be so grateful to whoever takes them out, they never think they could deserve something better than a mat on the floor and warm, not tasteless food, every now and then.

In Harry Coleman´s eyes there was never an inch of true mercy, of true empathy towards his trainees when he smiled.

Sooner or later, this trainee would understand that too. But for now, he bowed to him and begged.

“P-Please…” the boy said in an strangled sob “Please fix me”

The handler smiled and took the trainee to the drip. Even if he couldn´t stop shaking under his hand, his face was hopeful. The handler saw that look on him until the very moment he was restrained and the IV from the Drip was connected to the inside of his arm.

When 778900 closed his eyes, Coleman didn´t hear what he muttered. Voice too small to catch as trusted the technicians around him told him to wait outside until it was over.

The boy took a deep breath.

“Please help me forget everything” Were the words heard by no one before the Drip´s drug rushed a fire through his body. 

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA FIC PROMPTS

A collection of all of the fic ideas from that ask game, as of now. I’ll throw in new ones if i get any and when I remember. Feel free to use any of them, I’d love a link if you did!

with hands to the sky, I beg (what will save us?)

Izuku is a god who asks to be reborn as a human to try and help. He is warned he can’t return to being a god and will join the mortal realm, ever reincarnated. He agrees.

Izuku is a child with faint memories of a life he never lived, who knows too much about the world but not enough about the people around him. He’s not listed as having a quirk but he’s never gotten sick, never been hurt. He scares the other children and the adults don’t like his precocious nature. Inko loves her little miracle.

 My Soul is Like a Supernova

Things happen around Izuku. Always have. Everything from earthquakes and villain attacks to miraculous healing and lottery wins. He’s always attracted big events like this - as if even the universe can see how important he is and it warps itself around him.

He sees this as perfectly normal. 1A is begining to notice a stressful pattern.

This one regret of mine

Character study of Inko and how she deeply regrets so many things she’s done in her life, from her husband, to giving up on her carrier, to telling Izuku he couldn’t be a hero and then letting him keep going to UA.

But no matter what she’d never regret her son.

Of souls and lost causes

A good ol’ Izuku sees dead people AU, focused more on his younger years when he’d wander around the city helping as many spirits as he could, only to return home at the end of the day exhausted and dirty to an increasingly worried mother who believed the doctor when he said seeing ghosts as a quirk would be impossible.

my life.your choice

Underground heroics AU (i dont think ive ever posted that au huh): Izuku is the well-known son of japan’s immortal emperor, All for One. Born quirkless, he’s been emotionally abused but violently protected his whole life by his father, his mother killed before his eyes for trying to take him away. He’s never been able to make a choice for himself save for his bodyguard - his childhood friend, Bakugo Katsuki.

Katsuki made a pledge to protect him when they were in kindergarten and he’ll be damned if he breaks it now. And if it takes the two of them joining the resistance, meeting a vigilante by the name of All Might thought long dead and Izuku receiving a near-mythical quirk? Well, that just makes it more exciting, doesn’t it?

I forgot that you existed

Izuku gets hit with a quirk that not only makes people forget him, it prevents them from seeing him as well - all but erasing him from reality for everyone he knows. He can still interact with things but all it manages to do is just UA shut down under fear of villain infiltration. They find Izuku 18 hours later when the quirk wears off - a motion tracking gun trained on his forehead.

certain uncertainties

No one can predict the quirks trapped in One for All or when they’ll show up. Anthology fic of Izuku discovering each of them, some being rather helpful, and at least one piece of merch being sent into a low orbit.

Sometimes goodbye is a second chance

Set in the same universe I wrote console reset in; during the two heroes movie: they never defeat Nine and he slaughters the whole island and his class, leaving Izuku till last. He comes back at the start of their first day on the island and doggedly makes friends with every islander he can because while it hurt seeming them die, it hurt even more knowing he’d never even learnt most of their names.

They win this time the first time they meet him, even if it’s a marathon fight of 8 hours with him and Bakugo doggedly wearing him down. No one dies. Izuku thinks it’s worth dying as many times as he has to to keep the people he loves smiling.

The immortality of the heroic spirit

One of the quirks in One for All is determination: if you have something you desperately want to do, you can’t die - no matter how much blood you lose or home many pieces your body is crushed into - you’ll just heal back to where you were before you died. All Might and Aizawa find this out to horrifying effect during a brutal villain fight they are stuck watching on the news with the rest of a terrified UA.

In hindsight this makes a lot of sense to Izuku. Aizawa wants to scream. All Might has coughed up more blood than is probably healthy and all of 1A bruised hands from where they were clutching each other’s when it got too tense.

Shine on you invincible legacy

Izuku becomes a top 10 hero before hes even out of high school, hitting No.2 the second he graduates and taking No.1 from Hawks literally the next time the ranking is counted. 1A will not stop throwing him parties each time he moves up in the ranking, even if in 3rd year it was every other week. All Might comes to ever one of them.

Shake the Dirt from Your Shoes

Izuku will be a hero and no one will stop him - an AU a fair bit like the beginning of canon except Izuku fights back, remains unending optimistic and maybe engages in a light bit of technically legal vigilantism, accidentally befriending a vast array of heroes and a student or two.

To his horror, they recognise him out of costume as soon as he speaks to them, resulting in a very eventful first day at UA.

do you feel with a heart of steel

Original Sin AU, young Izuku finding feeling emotions difficult and not knowing why. He finds a dying animal on the way home and sits with it, patting it until it passes away. He doesn’t think he feels anything, but his cheeks feel wet.

all you want is milk and honey

Villains have been trying to use Izuku his entire life, much to his annoyance and confusion (I wonder who in his family might make him known to villains? hm). He’s gotten very good at being intimidating, even as a child.

When he gets kidnapped with Bakugo on a primary school field trip he decides to hell with it and breaks out all the stops. Turns out villains don’t tend to want a 10-year-old who can describe in great detail how they would hang you with your own intestines.

Bakugo decides that fuck Izuku being quirkless, he’s kind of amazing.

Even the stars

Izuku dies young and no one but the stars cry for him. They bring him back, but his body is cold and he has a nova burning where his heart should be. A four-year-old who has known death and walked among the stars is a terrifying thing. His skin has a shimmer to it, his eyes look like planets with no visible pupil, and he knows far too much.

The stars still speak to him, and they see everything.

bitter dreams and optimistic nightmares

Bakugo and Izuku grow up good friends, until Izuku is taken by villains age 9.

Bakugo’s determined to be a hero to save Izuku, even if it hurts to be at UA without him.

Izuku hates hurting people but he’s determined to make the most of his horrible situation by leaking information to heroes whenever he can. He’s given to All for One to serve as a lab hand to the doctor when All for One finds out this rag tag outpost of his had been hiding a valuable resource.

They meet at the USJ.

Mind Games for Two Shinsou and Izuku are both gen ed students in the same class, but with Shinsou stubbornly refusing to make friends and Izuku being the vice president they are almost strangers. UA has a no quirkless students policy and Shinsou has accidentally discovered that he student in his class with an analysis quirk, doesn’t, actually, have one. Izuku is aware Shinsou knows. They both want to get into the hero course but are under the impression there is only one spot.

It’s tense.

The Melody Stuck in My Soul

Izuku has an empathy/emotional control quirk that hears other’s emotions like music. He uses this both to read people, to defend himself, and, because hes Izuku, to ramp up his adrenaline/motivation/anger to kick ass. He and Bakugo are friends because baby Bakugo was lowkey impressed Izuku managed to weaponize his tears.

Advantage of the musical element: it gives him something concrete to latch on to and change, and it was very easy to work out which emotions were which. Also he has his own theme song, even if he’s the only one who can hear it.

Disadvantage: He cant turn it off. The stronger the emotion the ‘louder’ the music (it doesn’t cover up natural sounds because its not technically there, you get me?)

Error 404, childhood not found

A Hero’s Son AU, snapshot’s of Izuku’s childhood with No.1 Hero All for One as his abusive father.

Age 4 when his quirk never comes in and All for One abandons all pretences of loving him. Age 6 when he realises his son is intelligent and has a use as a lab assistant for the doctor. Age 8 when Bakugo first realises something is wrong. Age 9 when his father is almost killed by the No.1 villain All Might. Age 9 when he’s made to work in the labs with the doctor.

Age 14 when he meets All Might. Age 15 when he makes it into UA.

Darkness Growing (The Light Ever Smaller)

Villains take over Japan after the current arc, leaving all heroes and students that don’t switch sides on the run. 1A is instantly separated with a few of them  being killed, most of the living students with Aizawa and Izuku and Bakugo by themselves, both too stubborn to leave the other.

Aizawa is desperately trying to get to Izuku and Bakugo in an attempt to keep them safe, while the two of them are avoiding Aizawa to keep the rest of their class safe(er), all while avoiding the villains, turncoat heroes and police out to get them. Public support is spotty at best with anyone found ‘harboring a criminal’ given the same punishment as the hero.

Lost soul of last hope

The first wielder has been Izuku’s imaginary friend since he can remember. He’s not very imaginary.

Featuring Izuku with the world’s strangest older brother, Inko coming to the realisation her son can see a ghost, but only one ghost and no one will believe them, Izuku’s quirk being listed as Inko’s because the first wielder can help him fake it, and Izuku wondering why first looks so much like that picture of his father on his mother’s bedside table.

The kids the system failed

100% The 1A run aways au with 1A, Aizawa and Mic being runaways kids of various ages that band together to stay alive and maybe do a little vigilante work on the side.

Izuku has All for One and uses it like you’d expect a traumatised kid to - cautiously at first but when he gets the hang of it there are suddenly no more criminals with quirks in their area, and it looks suspiciously like Uraraka can fly.

Just a second to soon? For the Fic thing?

Aizawa struggles and gets knocked out just before Shigaraki lunges at Tsuyu. She and Izuku are left horribly injured by his quirk with massive facial scarring, and in Tsuyu’s case, the loss of an eye.

Daze

An illusion/fear quirk makes his teachers look like villains and convinces him he’s in danger. They try and stop him without hurting him but it’s difficult considering Izuku is convinced he’s protecting his friends, considering he can only see them broken and bloodied with villains he thought were locked away loaming over them.

Even as Aizawa cuts out his quirk Izuku still tries to shield his friends, snarling ferally.

Morning Glories and Forget-me-nots

A memory quirk of unknown duration hits Izuku, leaving him remembering none of his life. 1A starts to fall apart without one of their pillar’s.

hopeless but not broken

The Long Con au where Izuku asks All Might if he could be a hero without a quirk - he’s really asking if he can stop pretending to be a villain, if he’s worth anything without the quirks he’s been given, if he’s worth something as himself rather than the limited use he can provide. He doesn’t know how to say all of that, so he just asks if he could be a hero.

All Might says no. And Izuku basically decides right then that the only way he’ll ever be able to help people is by being a mole for the heroes like he’s been since he was 10 - that he isn’t worth anything because he’s quirkless and to be considered just as valuable as the people around him are he needs to give his life and more.

He shows up to the bar crying because of All Might and Shigaraki moves his murder plot forward a few months.

Sunflowers and Summer Gardens

All Might starts a garden on campus and 1A like to help. He uses it as a nice place to chill and as physical therapy. He likes to give the different classes bunches of flowers when they sprout.

For Dos and For Donts

Izuku runs into some of his old bullies when out with some of his friends. Uraraka, Iida, Todoroki, Shinsou and Asui intimidate the fuck out of them, and Izuku realises hes not scared of them any more. Then they get frozen yoghurt!

your mistakes, my unbecoming

Aizawa assigns a project on quirk related issues, Izuku ends up with quirkless discrimination, Aizawa assumes his discomfort is just him being upset he doesn’t get to talk about quirks. He doesn’t realise his mistake until he finds Izuku dissociating on the roof.

one and one into the vast

Original Sin AU, All for One and Izuku seeing the vestiges together. One for All sees his brother for the first time and Izuku learns a lot about the voice in his head.

All for One has a mini-crisis about his not son learning he’s a horrific villain, especially considering he has the power to cast his soul out at any time, killing him at will. Izuku doesn’t kill him. He admits its probably not right of him to let AfO remain considering the things he’s done, but All for One is a part of him now and it would be like killing a friend.

All for One quietly decides to hold off on the villainy until all of 1A is dead, for Izuku’s sake.

between the stars of our souls

Izuku and All Might are old gods who keep getting reborn into human forms with their memories regained when they turn 4. Normally finding each other takes a while, and their last reincarnation they never found each other, so this time he resolves to make himself as easy to find as possible, all while saving as many people as he can.

Izuku, aged 4, memories fresh in his head, makes it his mission to get into contact with the man he knows is his father/mentor’s reincarnation. All Might’s agency was not expecting a 4 year old to repeatedly try breaking in to their office, and they especially weren’t expecting him to be so good at it.

you really should have thought this through

Different (and ill-advised) attempts at special moves or team up combo moves. Featuring:

Izuku managing to break Kirishima’s nose.

Uraraka sending Bakugo so high he broke the sound barrier coming back down to earth.

Kaminari and Shouto managing to electrify ice.

Izuku, Todoroki and Bakugo levelling a whole suburb (at least it was condemned???)

I'll Break Anything You Give Me

Different times Izuku desperately tried to repair his relationship with Izuku over the years and the one time Bakugo fully grasps how much he fucked up and reaches out his hand to try to fix it for the first time. Probably includes a lot of screaming, Bakugo learning how to say sorry, a field trip and them having a conversation on Aldera’s roof.

Sinking

One for All kind of possesses Izuku during a quiet night at the dorms. One for All, made of 8 people, 7 of which are dead and had their last experiences in life be rather painful and violent, breaks down, Izuku alone not enough to drown them out. They lash out at anyone who tries to touch them, their quirks tearing Izuku’s body apart.

All Might’s vestige reaches out a hand to Izuku to keep his mind from being torn apart as 1A set about both trying to protect Izuku and get Aizawa who was off campus on patrol.

Feat. Bakugo and All Might being the only people with any idea about what’s going on and getting more and more stressed each second that passes. Iida, Uraraka and Todoroki being good heroes and even better friends. Blood King deciding he’s never watching 1A for Aizawa again, and Aizawa deciding he’s never leaving 1A alone ever again.

A Long Way From Home

Shirakumo wakes up in Kurogiri’s body in Tartarus with only shadowed memories of his time as a villain. He’s scared and alone and he just wants to see his friends again, even if he’s scared they hate him because at least that’s something he knows.

Too Far Gone

The other side AU, it comes out Izuku is a villain with (knockoff) All for One and he has a showdown with Mirio. He and Izuku trained together under All Might and Mirio tries to plead with him but Izuku has to basically tell him to go to hell to not ruin his placet as crown prince of the underworld.

Of course, he’s not only doing this to save people, he’s also doing it with All Might’s blessing - taking over from All Might himself serving as a villain after he killed All for One to prevent a power vacuum.

Doesn’t mean that his friends in 1A know that.

Snowy hills and sunlit peaks

Probably an AU about All Might being a mountain spirit with a little shrine that Izuku is the only one who visits - Izuku gets in trouble and All Might manifests himself, saves him, and tells everyone to keep their hands off his human son.

Wilting

Izuku gets sick and he tries to hide it because he’s scared its something serious but he just gets worse and worse. His friends are the ones who eventually step in and comfort him.

I’d probably write two endings with one being a bad end and the other a good end.

My wish came true without me realising 

Izuku wakes up one morning, comes downstairs and just starts crying. Everyone panics and he reassures them they are happy tears and that he's just glad to be here. They all call him sappy and give him a hug. Later in the day he and Bakugo chat and Izuku reveals he never even expected to live this long, let alone become a hero. Bakugo grumbles that he’s too stubborn to die, and not to get too cocky. Izuku promises he wont.

[salexectrian-heir]

ragged edges and sharp teeth

Pairing: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist

Fandom: Persona 5, Persona 5 Royal

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,305

Tags: Hurt/No Comfort, Canon Universe, Implied Sexual Content, Non-Consensual Platonic Affection, References to Underage Drinking, Referenced/Implied Suicide (Goro’s Mother), References to Depression, The six times someone kisses Goro Akechi, and the one time Goro Akechi kisses someone, Shuake Week 2020

Summary:

But in truth, in reality, Goro is selfish. Always will be. He is all ragged edges and sharp teeth, he is rough and all consuming and unrelenting.

And ruining Akira is perhaps his most selfish desire of all.

Shuake Week 2020: Free Day (a six and one prompt)

i. his mother

Goro is six years old and he is crying.

The water is scalding against his skin but that he doesn’t quite mind. He tries to fight the tears but they fall despite his brave efforts to not let them roll down his cheeks. Normally, he likes this place. The bathhouse is usually calm and comforting, and feels a little bit like an adventure when he’s sent here on his own. But tonight, he knows something is wrong .

One of her “ friends ” is over. One of the many he doesn’t like. His mother had that look on her face when she ushered him outside, the kind of look that made him want to stay rooted to the spot, clinging to her leg and begging to not be sent away.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been in this place, time almost doesn’t feel real in the bath. But it’s been long enough for his fingers and toes to prune, for his tears to have (finally) run out, and everyone else to have left. He runs his wrinkled fingertips over the tiles of the tub that are smooth and sleek, and wonders if anyone would come looking for him if he stayed in the water all night.

Probably not.

He sinks another few centimeters so that the water reaches his chin, and thinks about staying.

But he would miss his mother too much, and his eyes sting immensely, and all he wants is to fall asleep with her curled up next to him on his futon. He wouldn’t even mind if she hogged all the covers. It would be enough to know she was with him. That he wouldn’t be alone anymore.

He fumbles his way out of the tub and into his night clothes with clumsy, pruned fingers. The street is empty as he walks back to the complex where he and his mother live. The door is unlocked, but he vigilantly locks it behind him like she taught him. She must have forgotten. Again. But that’s okay! Because Goro can reach the top lock now and knows she must be tired, that’s all.

There are no lights on except for the glare from TV, a forgotten channel making ambient noise he barely notices. He creeps towards her bedroom and slides the door aside to find it empty, to his relief. No strangers left to linger in the space he covets. The next place he knows to check is the bathroom, which is where he finds her laying on the ground. Her head lifts at the noise and her eyes widen when she sees he’s standing in the doorway.

“Go-chan?”

He’s seen his mother like this before. He knows she’s hurting but doesn’t know why (a much older Goro would understand and curse himself for not noticing sooner. But he was six, and a six year old wouldn’t know what to do. He would blame himself anway.). He lays down beside her on the floor and she tucks him underneath her chin. He pretends he doesn’t hear her cry, pretends that he hadn’t just been crying himself, and buries his face in her neck. Her hair is damp but smells like home, floral and fresh in the way that makes his heart ache. He is grateful it's not the lingering scent of cigarettes and sweat that sometimes would stain her skin in ways that would make his stomach churn.

He thinks she’ll be okay this time when he feels a tender kiss on the top of his head, on his temple, on his cheek when she finally pries him away from her throat.

He thinks she’ll be okay when she whispers I love you , against his forehead as she carries him into his room, and helps him get ready for bed.

He thinks she’ll be okay when she leaves a chaste kiss on his lips when they are finally curled up on his futon together, as she brushes away the tears that somehow, some way, had found themselves running down his puffy face again.

But he doesn’t hear her when she says I’m sorry with soft lips pressed to his damp eyelids. After his fingers have woven into the locks of her hair like a lifeline.

Because Goro is already half asleep, and doesn’t have the energy to kiss her goodnight.

ii. a relative

Goro is nine years old and he is numb.

It’s freezing outside and no one thought to give him a heavier jacket. So he stands there shivering, hands fisted under his armpits as he tries to breathe normally. The air burns his lungs each time he takes a hiccuping breath, and wishes more than anything that someone would wake him up. Because this has to be a dream. A cruel one.

Then someone grabs his face and kisses his cheek, starling him out of the haze that had settled upon him like a wet blanket. They had meant it to be a comforting gesture he would come to realize much later in his life, but his traumatized nine year old brain couldn’t handle it and he violently recoils.

The shove isn’t strong enough to deter this woman… an aunt? A great aunt? A friend of his mother? Goro doesn’t know. He’s never met her before. Or maybe he has? If so, she clearly wasn’t important enough to remember or leave an impact on his life before this moment.

All he knows is they violated his space and as he remembers what his mother--he chokes on the protest that formed on his lips as he repeatedly pushes himself farther from the person trying to hold onto him--he remembers what his mother had always told him.

“ Don’t let anybody touch you unless you want them to .”

He holds those words close to his heart, hoping the punches he’s throwing get his message across.

He didn’t want to be touched by anyone.

Anger bubbles up from somewhere in his gut. Why didn’t his mother do the same when all those “friends” touched her when she didn’t want them too? Why couldn’t she be strong enough? Why wasn’t he strong enough to protect her ?

Why wasn’t he enough?

Bile rises in his throat when he finally breaks the hold of the hands that were gripping his chin, his elbow... blatantly ignoring the affronted scoffs and whispers of what a disgrace, such a rude child, that circled in the wake of his outburst.

The only person he wants holding him is his mother.

But she is six feet under the dirt at his feet, and won’t ever be able to hold him again.

iii. a girl in the orphanage

Goro is eleven and is taken completely by surprise.

One moment he is huddled around a board game in his room with a classmate, and the next she is suddenly leaning into his personal space, pushing her face into his. His eyes go wide as he braces himself on the edge of the desk so as not to fall out of his seat.

He never really thought about kissing girls before it happened, and knew immediately after that he probably would never think about kissing girls again.

His body reacts faster than his brain and shoves her off. She gasps and stumbles back, her expression twisting in confusion at his rejection.

“Why,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “did you do that?”

“Because I like you, and I wanted to kiss you…did you not like it?

He had never been kissed like that before. He thought first kisses were supposed to feel special. But this...felt empty. And bluntly says as much to her.

She looks at him like he had slapped her across the face. “I-I thought...you liked me back?”

“What gave you that idea?”

Guilt only starts to settle in his gut when he sees the tears welling up in her eyes just before she mutters something akin to an apology and bolts out of his room.

He glares at the spot she had been standing.The longer he thinks about it, the angrier and more justified Goro feels. He doesn’t regret telling her the truth but… he drops his head on his arms.

He can’t even make friends right. Maybe he really was broken, like all the other kids say he is.

She gets adopted two days later.

He doubts she even remembers that kiss.

iv. a hook up

Goro is seventeen and it's a means to an end.

Goro hates these events, but has to attend to keep up airs with Shido and his... associates . To be available for Shido to both dangle in front of and threaten his inner circle with. The fact Goro fits in with them at all makes his skin crawl, and he drowns the urge to peel it off with the complimentary wine he’s (illegally) being served. It’s the least offensive crime he’s committed by a landslide.

Goro just needs to be seen and not heard. To both impress and intimidate. And it works every time.

But tonight, it works perhaps a little too well. Or Goro is a little too drunk to care anymore, and wants to get something, anything out of this hell he’s stuck in. Which is how he finds himself pressed up against a bathroom door by the son of some sycophant politician dragged along by his father hoping to get in Shido’s good graces.

The boy is his age, maybe a little older. Far too eager, excited, and sloppy. He kisses Goro hastily, before Goro could stop him (it’s not what they're in this bathroom for, and they both know it). The boy’s mouth is clumsy, and the kiss is full of inexperienced tongue and tastes of the sickly sweet moscato they’ve been chasing. When the boy tries to deepen the kiss, Goro takes a fistfull of this boy’s hair and yanks. It earns him a yelp.

Glaring down at him, Goro simply states, “On your knees.”

And the boy obeys without a second thought.

The boy doesn’t like him . He likes the image he carefully manufactured to be desirable. Even if the boy claims he went down on the Detetive Prince in a bathroom in some fancier hotel in Shinjuku, no one will believe him.

Back at his apartment, Goro slams down the mug of tea he had made to wash out the taste of the boy from the party. If that boy really knew what Goro kept buried underneath the layers and layers of masks he wore, what he was truly capable of, he would run away screaming.

But it doesn’t matter, it’s not like the boy’s affection was really for Goro . And Goro held none for the boy. It means nothing. A release, an excuse to feel something other than seething rage for a few minutes. A pitiable excuse for human connection Goro so desperately craved. How pathetic.

Goro begins to laugh.

And when his manic laughter breaks into sobs he can’t quite tell.

v. his rival

Goro is eighteen and it stops his entire world.

Stepping out of the Jazz Jin, Goro is quickly enveloped by the brisk November chill that finally settled itself in the streets of Kichijoji. It seeps through his clothes and makes him shiver, craving the warmth and atmosphere of the lounge they just left.

He shouldn’t even be here with Akira. Against his better judgment, Goro had reached out, invited him here one last time before…

Akira ducks around him as the door shuts, effectively cutting off the only exit out into the street.

“Akechi, can I ask you a question?”

Goro raises a brow. “I suppose.”

Akira removes his hands from his pockets, and suddenly seems unsure of what to do with them. Turning them over and flexing his fingers as he says, “Um, I’ll need you to close your eyes first.”

“Akira, we don’t have time for games,” Goro chides in that manufactured plastic tone of voice the Prince uses to let his fans down easy.

(Thinking Akira will probably try to shove some stupid trinket in his hands like last time. And Goro will have to repeatedly decline said trinket until Akira inevitably shoves it in his pocket while he’s not looking and only for Goro to find it later when he takes off his coat back at his apartment).

A soft laugh pulls him back to the present. And then, “Indulge me, detective . Please?”

Maybe it was the poorly disguised desperation hidden in Akira’s voice that made him cave to the delinquent’s whim, or Goro’s realization that this was perhaps the last time he would ever get to feel like a normal teenager before...  

Goro rolls his eyes and gives in to Akira’s request with a sigh. “Alright.”

The sounds of Kichijoji’s nightlife are amplified when his eyes flutter shut. He becomes hyper aware of the cold clinging to his skin, the idle chatter of the passerby at the top of the stairs, milling about down the street.The welcoming scent of coffee that never seems to fade from Akira’s clothes.The sound of Akira stepping closer into his space.

Suddenly, alarms are going off in Goro’s brain as he register’s Akira’s hand cupping his cheek, skin to skin.

“May I?” Akira’s question is whispered so quietly, Goro thinks he feels it more than he hears it.

Goro swallows, unable to get his tongue to work to form words. It’s the first time anyone has ever asked Goro for his permission, for his consent, and he has no idea how to even voice how that makes him feel.

It’s blindsiding him.

A thumb traces over Goro’s bottom lip, and his eyes snap open. He’s peering right into irises of silver, sparkling from the string lights that hang around them in the stairwell of the Jazz Jin’s entryway.

“You said you would keep them closed,” Akira whispers, gaze dropping to where his thumb is still idling tracing Goro’s mouth.

Goro’s prolonged silence seems to unnerve Akira, for he begins to pull away. Without thinking, Goro’s hand shoots out and grabs the lapel’s of Akira’s coat, holding him in place. Goro wasn’t even aware he moved until Akira let out a small gasp.

“I never said that,” Goro murmurs, but his eyes fall shut anyway when Akira leans in again.

Akira’s lips are so soft, so delicate and gentle when he presses them against Goro’s mouth. They are everything Goro is not, and Goro is melting . It’s so much kinder than he deserves, far more genuine than Goro is even capable of being.

“To remember me by,” Akira breathes when Goro parts his lips to taste more of him, “since we agreed to stop seeing each other after this.”

Too soon the warmth from Akira’s mouth is gone, and so is the dark haired boy. Having assimilated into the shadows to leave Goro alone in that stairwell.

It changes everything and nothing at the same time.

Goro still puts a bullet in Akira’s brain two days later, but it's his own head that explodes.

vi. a kiss met halfway

Goro is still eighteen, and living on borrowed time.

“ Your life isn’t trivial! ”

Goro has never wanted to believe anything so badly before. But knows in the shell of his empty heart, that Akira is wrong.

That he’s just being a brainless, sentimental fool, giving Goro’s life more meaning than it ever had the right to have.

Yet the thief’s words echo in the recesses of his mind, with each step he takes away from Leblanc for them only resonate louder. By the time he reaches the main road, the words are deafening screams and he has to--has to--

Akira is just where he left him. Sitting there stupidly at the cafe counter with his face in his hands.

The door to Leblanc is ripped open. It shakes on its hinges as it absorbs the aftershocks of being slammed into the wall by the force of Goro’s hand. The jingle of the bell is drowned out by the roar of Akira’s voice in Goro’s ears.

Akira startles and whips his head in the direction of the noise. Goro can see the thief’s eyes are swollen and red, brimming with unshed tears as he pulls his hands away from his face. His mouth falls open, brows furrowed in shock or confusion, Goro isn’t keen on differentiating at the moment because he’s too busy closing the distance between them.

Goro is so sick of other people defining what his life is meant to be. So sick and tired of being manipulated, following orders like some kind of marionette on a string. And for nothing in the end. Because Goro is his own worst enemy the cards were stacked against him from the beginning.

So fuck it. Goro decides for the first time in a long time that he wants to be touched. To be held. To feel the weight of someone’s desire for him pressing in from all angles. He wants to drown himself in Akira until he can breathe nothing else.

And Akira meets him halfway.

They don’t speak of what they’re doing, as they tumble up the stairs to Akira’s room.

They do not name the desperate feeling they are chasing through each other’s clothes as they fall to the floor.

They refuse to acknowledge the truth that is passed between each other’s mouths, secrets they had kept buried beneath flesh now exposed.

But everything left unsaid hangs in the silent spaces between their bodies as they move as one.

+1 a kiss goodbye

Goro is (still) eighteen, and he is dying.

It takes less than a minute.

Goro does his best to keep the desperation out of his eyes but can’t keep it from his hands.

Hands that reach for Akira to roughly pull him into the helicopter after Maruki, who had been tossed aside like a ragdoll.

Goro drags the beaten and bloodied thief into his lap, and no one seems to pay them any attention, too focused on either watching the unconscious therapist in the back, the collapsing palace around them, or the brilliant white light they were heading for.

Akira goes to unhinge his helmet, and Goro lets him. It clatters to the ground, next to where Akira abandoned his own mask.

He lets Akira drag fingers drag across his chest, to travel up and bury themselves in his hair, to cradle the back of his head like the most precious treasure he’s ever laid hands on. So much of Goro yearned to be touched, and there was so little time.

Goro slides his own hands, still encased in clawed gauntlets, along Akira’s battered face. He uses the pads of his thumbs to trace the angle of Akira’s jaw as he crushes his mouth against Akira’s for the last time. Akira’s blood is sweet on his tongue.

For a split second, Goro wishes he could have been a stronger, more selfless man in his final moments. One who didn’t covet things that were never his ( would never be his ), or ruin the things he touches.

But in truth, in reality, Goro is selfish, always will be. He is all ragged edges, and sharp teeth, he is rough and all consuming and unrelenting. And ruining Akira is perhaps his most selfish desire of all.

Goro knows Akira deserves better, but Akira allows it willingly all the same. Letting Goro lay claim to everything Akira is, everything Akira could be for a moment. For a moment, it all belongs to Goro.

And in return, Akira takes everything from him. His revenge, his anger, his envy, his loneliness, his heart. Devouring what is left of Goro Akechi as the false reality shatters around them in a blaze of white light.

[yeoldontknow]

Kissing Vermilion: Teaser

aslkdjal i am so much more late with this than i intended to be. getting the pace right on this is proving to be a challenge BUT! heres a small sample of what im trying to have completed by next weekend. this was meant to be up yesterday for joons BD but i was busy and couldnt write as much as i wanted to :((( you can all thank @jamaisjoons for the utter filth that this will become. happy birthday namjoon im sorry im late and will continue to be late *tosses confetti* (sorry theres no graphic im saving it for the full thing eep)

↠ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader ↠ Full Story Summary: It was never your intention to sleep with your brother’s best friend, but it happened. It was never your intention to fall in love with him, but it happened. It was never his intention to fall in love with you, either, but it’s happening. Against his better judgement, Namjoon just can’t seem to stay away from you. ↠ Genre: fwb!au; smut; angst; the full story is going to be the most filth ive ever written im so sorry ↠ Rating (teaser): R ↠ Warnings (teaser): nothing terribly smutty but she thinks about it...a lot...theres a lot of mature concepts here ↠ Tentative post date: 9/19

March, 2013

You really must remember to thank your roommate.

As the condensation rolls down the chilled glass of your vodka lemonade, the eyes of the man beside you do their best to stay focused on the lush crimson of your lipstick. Every now and then, at the end of a sentence or at the end of a joke that does not necessarily land, his brows narrow, ensuring his gaze does not fall, lower and lower still, to the provocative shape of the red dress that hugs your body. For the moment, he is nameless, an unintroduced stranger whose eye you caught just by standing next him and ordering a drink. You have not let him go, even as your mind wanders. Or, rather, it's the red that refuses to let him go, red and the way the shade kisses you with reverence.

All your life red has been your dearest companion, your first of many experiences and your best of even more. Red was your first lipstick, a scarlet transgression against your mother at twelve years old. It was sacred only because it was forbidden, the cream from the bullet now a fleeting memory of cracked concrete behind your middle school and the wide eyes of boys passing by, likely wondering if they should tell your brother. Red was your first Solo cup, and the first you’d crushed beneath your spine as you lost your virginity sophomore year. 

Red was not your first hickey, and also not your first scarf to cover the evidence, but it was your best one, your most favourite one. It was small, and it burned against your skin for days, the same way your nails ripped scarlet down your boyfriend’s back, the scratches stinging beneath all his shirts. He’d said he loved you, and you believed him, giving him red as a promise of your loyalty. Red was the wine you poured in his bed and the flush against your chest when you found him with another woman, her legs too slow in the effort of unwinding from his hips. Red was his lies, your slap against his cheek, and the paint of Yoongi's car, which you'd borrowed to not lose your campus parking spot.

Red has always been yours, oftentimes the only thing you trust, the only thing that has never let you down. Now, it sits on your skin like you belong to it. You chose the dress for the shade, your roommate made you buy it because of the shape. You don't usually toy with such a deep cut against your back, a low swoop as alluring as the moon and turning the line of your spine into a promise of treasure or victory. But this red turns you into something special, something dangerous.

And now, with his eyes on you, you really must remember to thank her.

The man beside you flashes you a smile he thinks he is dazzling, rolling the base of his whiskey neat in slow circles against the bar top. He waits for you to flush, anticipating a rush of blood to your cheeks or your lips, but you merely offer him a thin lipped smile, remembering to be polite. His eyes dart from your face to the seductive contour of your hips, and back again, and he tries to be respectful, tries to play it off like he's positively twitterpatted, but you can tell. You can always tell.

As his eyes flick away once more, admiring the supple skin of your shoulder, you wonder if you would be interested. Your mind starts to wander for a moment, and you envision yourself leaning close and letting him have his fill. It would be so terribly easy, and you'd let him feel like he'd won even if you had no intention of it going any further than this. If it was just you and just him, you'd be good. At the end of all his jokes, you would laugh and peer at him through the thick curtain of your lashes. At all the right places, you'd rest your hand on his arm and make him believe he mattered. For one night, you would be so good.

But his eyes are on you, the searing heat of Namjoon's intense and focused stare kisses at the small of your back from across the room. He sits at a table with your large group of friends, expression entirely neutral except for the power that lurks ominously in his jaw and dark irises. His gaze has walked from the small of your back to settle at the warm highlight of your cheekbone, and, now, you are aching. Feeling him all over you is just the same as feeling his hands at your throat, your heartbeat rattling in your chest as though lingering on a knife's edge. There's something different about it tonight, about him. There's something different about the way you feel under his unwavering attention, and somewhere amidst the laughing and the talking and the indiscernible number of drinks you have convinced this stranger to buy you, you have started to learn you want Namjoon to stay.

Tonight, you are learning that his attention makes a kingdom bloom beneath your skin, amongst your blood, and you are asking, silently willing, him to claim it.

You should not want him here. You should not want him nestling into crevices long untouched, and long unnoticed. Namjoon unfurls in the spaces between your bones and your joints, curling into the gaps between your ribs, and you wonder if he can feel it. Have you done the same to him, just by standing, and talking, and quietly wanting? If you're being honest, you've always wanted him, at least a little. If you're honest, you can distantly remember the time your brother brought him over their final year of high school and he had grown into the baby fat of his cheeks, his white shirt somehow battling the muscles of his chest for dominance, and his smile, and the dimples he so often kept a secret, felt sweeter to you than honey.

If you're honest, it was your family, the proximity of your relationship to him that decided he was not for you. There’s something forbidden about craving a person you’ve known all your life, someone your brother has spent his whole life calling his best friend. It was your family, and it was Yoongi, who made you turn away from your infatuation. You were eighteen when you finally swallowed your crush on Namjoon whole, convinced you had rid yourself of it while taking the appropriate lesson you were meant to learn: you no longer wanted a boy, you deserved a man, your hunger to be touched deserving of confident, unyielding hands. 

So you set your attention on other guys learning how to grow into their adulthood - even if they had never mastered the strength or dominance of it, even if they never tasted quite right against your tongue. It’s been a long time since you have wanted him to look at you like this, even longer since someone has done so without demanding you witness them, without expecting you to bend for them.

Namjoon looks at you like you matter, like you're something worth keeping. He watches you intently, refusing to look away until you are certain he could devour the very flesh of you, and still find away to take more, still find ways to keep all your lonely parts begging for him. He looks at you like he needs you, simultaneously uncovering the terrifying truth that you have always needed him, and as the man beside you slides his phone number over to you on a napkin, a number you know you will lose or forget as soon as it is out of your line of sight, you are certain you are toeing a line that, once crossed, offers no point of return.

'You should come see it.’ Abruptly, your thoughts are broken by the gruff voice of your conversation partner. Raising his voice slightly, he regards you knowingly, silently insisting your attention return to him. 'I think you'd like it.'

Ever since he started speaking to you the conversation has been mundane, likely because every topic of discussion has somehow revolved around or worked its way back to him. There’s an edge of pride in his voice, the sort that expects respect alongside awe for his, ultimately banal, accomplishments. Offering him a small, lopsided smile, you tilt your head to the side and feign interest, exposing more of your smooth skin. 

'Oh?' you hum, amused that even something as simple and unaffected as this noise of inquiry will provide him a sense of self-security. 

'Yeah, I can show you around.’ He takes a long, slow sip of his whiskey, as if his statement is a promise of something meaningful. ‘You can bring some friends, too, if you want. I admit, the frat is a mess but it's still a good time.'

You’ve forgotten which university he goes to, where he’s from, his name. Idly, you wonder if he’s a member of Namjoon’s friend group, though you doubt it. Over time, your college friends have merged together, Sunhee’s interest in Jackson bringing them together since she met him at the gym. You’re meant to be celebrating her birthday at the table, beside your friends and beside Namjoon. Removing yourself from his orbit has proven to be a test, but, at this angle, Namjoon sees all of you, keeps you rooted to this position at the bar just so he can have his fill, and this, you think, is hardly a sacrifice.

Having nothing to say, you simply nod, offering yet another generic question that will keep him talking and keep Namjoon watching you. 'All frat houses are a mess,' you shrug amiably. 'Do you like the campus?'

Immediately, he begins nodding, lips flattening into a sly grin. 'Yeah, it's a nice place. A little cloistered at times. If you stay too long you feel like you're in a bubble, you know? But I chose it because the law program...'

Tuning his voice out, your focus returns to the raised hair and gooseflesh that dimples along your arms. It’s been months of this, of your friend groups coming together to play matchmaker in the effort of being supportive, and through all of this you have become acquainted with who Namjoon really is when he’s liberated from the influence of childhood. Without your hometown, Yoongi’s deep laugh, or the distant chatter of your parents in the other room, Namoon’s identity has stretched and morphed into something almost unrecognizable in its alluring temptation.

Yoongi makes him warm, soft, a voice of wisdom and reason that has, more often not, left you feeling comforted and protected. At home, he is clumsy, sheepishly so, endearing in the way he trips over his own feet or drops things even if he’s being careful. Namjoon laughs first, even if his laugh is not always the easiest. He is the most curious and, simultaneously, the most distant, miles away in his thoughts even as he considers every word you say. And even tonight, he still is this way, the rich texture of his voice ringing out above the din when he laughs, genuine and encouraging, doing his best to make sure everyone feels comfortable. 

But the more you’ve seen him with friends he’s made by choice and by interest, university friends who both challenge and offer a mode of relating to his own adulthood, the more you have watched him separate from the things that made him Joonie. He has become someone who carries eroticism in their bones, his smile no longer just a comfort, but one that is altogether too full of temptation even in its patient inertia. 

The confidence in him has your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth every time he's with you, your walls clenching around nothing every time he looks at one of your friends with more than a little interest. Joonie has abandoned the childhood endearment in favor of his whole name, Namjoon a word that gets pressed against his neck and shoulders like a brand. He’s become fluent in more than one language and also in the destructive language of ruin, a single look from him and you feel naked all the way down to your nerves.

Reclining in his seat, his hand moves languidly up and down the glass of his cold beer while he remains poised in his consideration of you, your round ass, and the way you lick your lips to keep them moist when you presume no one is watching. His broad shoulders are rolled back and even when you aren’t looking at him, even when he is not directly in your line of sight, you still toy with the idea of getting on your knees and begging him. For what, you are not certain, but you think it is likely the simple request to stay with him, wherever your feet, your finger, or your bones rest.

You’d like him to invade you like that. You’re certain he’d excel at such a carnal delight.

[mylovelies-docx]

Kid Krow - Comfort Crowd

Part 6!

A/N: We finally find out what promise Y/N made and couldn’t keep.

Chapter warnings: angst (as always), and like one paragraph of very vague smut.

As always, listen to the song here!

And read the story on AO3 here!

Taglist: @maraudersandco @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi @hkmultifandom @spider-starry @ashleykaiba @mayangel19

Word count: 3.2k (a long boy!)

When you stormed out of the cockpit, Mille, Zalos, and Arle refused to look at you. You couldn’t blame them; you looked like hell. Zorii sat sharpening a blade and ticked her head towards the cockpit, asking silently if you wanted her to deal with Poe. You sniffed hard, scrubbed at your eyes, shook your head, and practically ran to your quarters.

You pleaded with the universe to just make Poe sit still and not follow you. You could not handle another moment with him, or else you would explode. Or more specifically, your heart would explode and you would die a slow, agonized death. All because of Poe kriffing Dameron and his stupid, stupid , friendship.

You made your way through the corridors, leaning heavily against the walls in order to not fall over in your pursuit of a private downward spiral.

Eventually you made it to your door and entered your code. The door slid open and you rushed inside, closing it behind you as fast as you could so you could be alone. But going where so many memories of Poe lived had been a mistake. Being alone with your thoughts and emotions was just too much.

It was all too much.

With a shattered scream, you broke down. Every last piece of your heart was wrecked and crushed and ripped apart until it was unrecognizable. And still, this burning, unending pain would not. Go. Away!

Outside, you heard a raised voice. Poe. Saying something about needing to talk, to explain, to apologize. But then muffled, indistinct words of warning from Zorii. You knew that Zorii would not let Poe anywhere near you after what had just happened and how upset she knew you were.

Zorii walked inside, her lithe frame seemed to be held together by rage alone. She hadn’t even bothered to knock or ask if you wanted someone around. But regardless, she was now your best friend, and you just needed company now.

“I will refrain from speaking too much on it, but I do need to emphasize how much I despise that man for everything he’s done to you,” she explained, and settled on your cot.

You wheezed out a humourless laugh. You were numb, through and through, after the havoc that had occurred over your last two encounters with Poe.

Zorii was still angry, but she opened her arms to you for comfort anyway. The look on her face and in her manners spoke of softness in spite of her fury, and it broke whatever respite your breakdown had afforded you. A cry exploded from between your lips, slamming into the walls of your quarters and deafening you. It was the sound of anguish and pain and betrayal that was ripped straight from your heart.

You hadn’t felt so miserable and pitiful in all your life: those stupid kids from back home could never have made you feel as bad as Poe has.

Zorii opened her arms wider and you ran to her. You clutched at her waist, burying your face in her stomach and just sobbed . Sobbed for the best and only friend that you had had for years before Zorii came along. Sobbed for the stupid, love-sick fool that couldn’t take a fucking hint and get over her best friend that never saw anything in her anyway.

Sobbed for yourself. Your pitiful, sad excuse of a self.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine,” you muttered over and over again in hopes of getting your pain under control. “I don’t really need him. I don’t. I don’t…”

She sighed, rubbing soothing circles into your back. “ You’ve said that lie already . We both know what a load of bantha crap it is.”

You repeat yourself over and over again, trying to drive it through your own skull instead of hers.

“Look,” Zorii sighed once again, “I know you loved him. As more than a best friend.” You cringed against her, ashamed that Zorii had to find out how you felt about the man she had been sleeping with. “And trust me, I understand the appeal all too well. I wouldn’t have started anything up with him if I had known how you felt. And to give credits where credits are due, you hid it really well; I had no idea until last week.”

You still couldn’t believe that Poe had said that to you in front of Zorii, remembering how terrible you had felt about it and how profusely you had apologized to Zorii once she had come to check on you that night.

“I overheard your holo-vid with Kes the other night as well,” Zorii admitted, wincing at her own invasion of your privacy. You were too overwhelmed to tell her you really didn’t mind.

“He mentioned some force tree or something? I don’t really know what you had said before that, but he mentioned that and you went quiet. I’ll admit that I was intrigued and maybe wandered closer to your door than I intended to.”

Her voice went soft after that.

“But then I heard you mention that he knew: what who knew, at that point, I wasn’t sure. But you went on to explain how you had felt so pretty dressed up in Shara Bey’s dress and how you had prepared a whole speech. At that point, I figured you were talking about Poe.”

You closed your eyes against her and tried hard to push the memory away.

***

It was a lovely day on Yavin IV, and the big, gnarly-rooted force tree near the Dameron’s household was a brilliant green in the midday glow. The wind was whispering through the jungle, and all the creatures that made it their home seemed to be singing along to some unspoken melody. Just for you.

And for Poe, whenever he decided to show up.

You were all nerves. Sweat under your arms, a racing heart, and clammy hands: always the best look for confessing your love to someone.

You and Poe had returned home to Yavin last month after being away for a few years. Your group had had a close call on the last run, and you begged Poe to come with you to see Kes and your gran.

Your gran couldn’t care less that you hadn’t been home, but Kes was ecstatic that you guys had come back to see him.

Poe had gone to the market to pick up some snacks for the picnic Kes told him you had planned. Poe just didn’t know that it was supposed to be a date for the two of you, and Kes wasn’t going to spoil the surprise.

You were busy getting ready when Kes presented you with the most beautiful dress you had ever seen from Shara Bey’s closet. He was adamant that you wore that particular dress, since it was the one he loved most on her. Your emotions were already bubbling over from anxiety, but the look on Kes’s face when he looked at the dress broke your heart. You could see that he was reliving a memory of him and Shara Bey, and you just couldn’t break the spell that it had over him, so you sat quietly.

He eventually resurfaced and left you alone to finish your routine, all the while insisting that you’d be his official daughter sooner or later. Your smile was so big that it hurt your cheeks.

You arrived at the tree and started to set up the blanket and pillows that you had brought from the Dameron household. The blanket was spread out in the flattest nook between roots, and the pillows were propped up against the trunk. You took your place among the pillows and waited.

And waited.

Admittedly, Poe was prone to getting carried away with conversations between himself and the vendors, but that particular outing seemed to last forever in your mind. You knew why later, but at that point in time, you were convinced that Poe felt something for you and would return for you soon.

You knew that he felt something for you; on all your spice runs, he begged you to stay inside the ship and be safe, he brought you back pretty trinkets that he said reminded him of you, and he was always flirting.

Always.

The nickname he gave you? Princess? Absolutely flirtatious. The hugs before and after he left the ship? Obviously an excuse to be close to you. The little winks he’d send over the fire at you and all the inside jokes you two had? Come on! It was all right there. And Kes agreed! So, you two devised this little set up so that you could finally confess to Poe.

Even with only the progression of Yavin Prime to get a rough estimate of time’s passage, it still took Poe entirely too long to find you. When he finally showed up, you had fallen into a light sleep.

“Where’s dad?” Poe asked, setting down a basket with absolutely nothing in it. He plopped down right beside it, startling you awake.

“Where are our picnic supplies?” You countered, rubbing your eyes and feeling nauseous and disoriented after your impromptu nap.

He lifted his hands in the air as if to say “what can you do” and grunted. “Everyone had packed up by the time I got there. Why isn’t dad out here with us? Did he go back to the house to grab something?” His nonchalance and lack of apology really ate away at your resolve to profess your love to him. You wanted to know what took him so long before you said anything about your feelings.

“No, no he never came out here,” you explained. “Why did it take you so long to get to the market? You left hours ago -- the sun’s going down.” You were wringing your hands in your lap, nervous about what his answer could be.

“I was just catching up with someone; nothing to worry your beautiful head about.” When he said that, he had smoothed over the top of your head like a cherished and beloved friend. “It’s a good thing for us, I promise,” he winked. You were eating it all up like you were starved for affection.

How tragic.

You quickly grasped his hand before you lost all nerve. You kept it between your palms, drawing patterns on the back of it that kept your eyes down and away from his questioning gaze and adorable, slightly confused smile.

The future opened up bright and wonderful before you: your mutual affections coming out in the open and that long-awaited first kiss. Stars , you had been fantasizing about Poe’s lips for more than half of your life at that point. And his hands. His hands! Maker, if they would just glide over your skin and caress you like you had pictured for years, you would die a happy woman. And you’d thread your hands through those beautiful curls at the nape of his neck and tug just a little bit, until he groaned like you had always heard in your dreams. You would move together, right on that blanket under the force tree you and Poe had always loved. You would come apart in the most delicious way, panting and crying, with his mother’s ring dangling from the chain around his neck and nestling itself into the hollow of your throat. And then he would grind into you one final time and just pour his affections into your neck and mouth for safe keeping.

How goddamn tragic it all turned out to be .

“I need to tell you something,” you whispered, looking up through your eyelashes at him. He grinned, seeming just as excited and nervous as you were.

“Me too. I’ve been dying to tell you something for days now!” He wiggled where he sat next to you, scooting as close as he could and touching your foreheads together, like you were about to share secrets that were only meant for the two of you.

“You first,” you said, breathless. You couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

“No, no. You had something to say first, so you go ahead.” Poe had still been grinning at you, the happiest you had seen him in a while.

“How about we say it together?” You countered, giving his hand a little squeeze in anticipation.

“Okay, on the count of three,” he began.

“One…” you said together.

“Two…” you continued.

“Three!” You shut your eyes.

“I love you,” -- “Zorii and I are together,”

Silence. Your eyes were still shut, but now you were holding them so tightly that shapes were floating behind your eyelids. Poe pulled his hand from yours.

“What?” He asked, sounding confused and slightly wounded. Like he couldn’t believe that you had the nerve to say that out loud and ruin everything .

“Don’t,” you began, turning your head down and willing your heart to stop its frantic pace in your chest. “I – I didn’t know… I thought…” you trailed off, unsure what to say to fix the mess that you had created.

“(Y/N), do—do you love me? As more than a friend?” He grabbed your chin and forced you to meet his baffled gaze. You couldn’t think straight at that point, so you said the first thing that had popped in your mind.

“Yes, of course I do.”

Stupid girl.

“Oh, princess.” He released your chin and sat back, resting against the pillows like he was exhausted and didn’t have the energy to deal with the situation any longer. “I’m sorry if I ever did anything to lead you on; I just thought we were friends. I mean, we both see other people, and I’ve never felt that way about you so I didn’t think you did either.”

He could not have said anything worse to you in that moment, could not have said anything that sucked all the warmth from your body any faster than that had.

Okay, (Y/N), just breathe. Think of a way out of this, you begged your frazzled mind. Anything would be better than the silence stretching between you at that point.

“I guess… I got some things confused. I’m sorry.” And now you were that little girl again, apologizing for things out of your control and no fault of your own.

You felt small again, insignificant and alone. A floating pile of junk in the vacuum of space, with no planet in sight and no answers to your distress calls.

Poe could see you spiraling, he had known you long enough to recognize the signs.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, princess, we’ll figure this out,” he murmured, coming closer to you once again. He arranged the pillows so that he could lay back with you on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and muttered soothing words, trying to calm you down and bring you back to him. Like he had done so many times before.

“No, there’s nothin’ to figure out; this is on me. Just give me some time and I’ll get over it.” You hadn’t gotten over it in all the years you had loved him-- truly loved him-- but you had vowed to figure it out, and quickly, so that you could stop feeling like that. “I promise I’ll get over it,” you said into the fist that was curled next to your face on his chest.

You closed your eyes and tried not to focus too hard on how good he felt underneath you like that. How intimate it was, how much it reminded you of the outcome of every daydream you had had.

How you knew that it was probably how he and Zorii spent their nights together now...

***

“Kes didn’t know how that day turned out because Poe and I fell asleep outside. I was too embarrassed to face him that next mornin’, so I sent Poe back to tell him we got an urgent message and had to leave. I don’t know exactly what they said to each other, but Poe looked sad when he came back and I didn’t wanna know.” The confession slipped through your lips, chapped from all the salty tears that you had cried into Zorii’s tunic.

“Oh, (Y/N). I’m so, so sorry. He was on a call with me that evening. I had no idea you were waiting on him; he just mentioned you all were going on a picnic and that his dad could keep you company for a while.” Her hands clenched against your back, as if trying to protect from a hurt that had already passed and done its damage.

“That boy wouldn’t know a Gungan from an Ewok if they were both standing in front of him. The only reason we ever got together was because I made the first move.” Her hands now continued their previous path of soothing circles, hoping to make up for the pain that she unintentionally caused not so long ago.

It amazed you how drastically things could change in such a short amount of time.

“It’s alright, Zorii, I’m not mad at you. I’m just angry at myself. Always at myself. For bein’ too slow, too emotional, too much and never enough at the same time.” You were defeated and exhausted, no longer able to keep even an ember of your earlier fire alive.

“I will not tolerate you speaking about my best friend that way; she is a wonderful person, and the best damn pilot we’ve ever had. She doesn’t deserve to be treated this way,” Zorii chided, having pushed you away from her and giving you a stern look.

You returned something resembling a smile.

You looked back to her lap where you had just spent an indeterminate amount of time; the white fabric covering her stomach was completely transparent.

“Oh Rii, I’m sorry about your clothes,” you mumbled, trying to dry it with the sleeves of your outfit. It did no good.

“I don’t really mind; I like my shirts soggy,” she said, deadpan.

This time, a real laugh bubbled up from your throat. You were immensely grateful you had a friend like her.

______

For months after Poe’s departure, you kept a smile on your shoulders until you were sweaty; begging on your knees for somebody to come and help you when it was too much to carry. Zorii did her best, but no one could replace the comfort and happiness you had once found in Poe. You eventually stopped asking for help and pretended to have moved on.

But time passes, and past hurts are less painful. Especially when you don’t think about them.

You had seen the missed messages from Poe in those early days. Every time your comm buzzed, the despair you felt over your situation returned tenfold, and the only option was to throw the device in a forgotten corner and let it die -- just like your feelings.

[kirishwima]

Heeeeey you miss me? 🥰 I’m in a funk currently and need some cute headcanons for the RFA and Seran. (Situation: MC worked themselves to near death, so now they’re taking a few weeks to recover from over working. How would the RFA [individually] respond??) Dont feel pressured to, do it if your able. Thanks love! ~Corvus

awe hey fluff!! I’m replying this a little late, but hope it’ll still cheer you up a little!! Hang in there ^^

YOOSUNG:

* He’d noticed MC has been more tired than usual, how they’d come home from work a sluggish mess, refusing to even drink or eat anything-merely dropping onto the couch and falling asleep within minutes.

* Yoosung was so worried, but he didn’t know what to do-of course he took care of MC whilst they were home, cooking them dinner and sitting with them to keep them awake until they ate at least a little bit, carrying them to bed when they fell asleep on the couch...he tried telling them to take a break from their work for a few days, but MC wouldn’t hear it, insisting they had to keep going as much as they could.

* Well, the day they’d crash came sooner than they’d think-one moment they were fine, working like usual, the next they were passed out cold on the floor, their co-workers rushing around them and frantically calling an ambulance.

* Luckily MC had assigned Yoosung as their emergency contact so he immediatly got a call from the hospital about MC’s condition-even though he was in class, at that moment he shot out of the lecture room, running to the hospital until his knees gave out. 

* The doctors explained the situation to him-a mix of burnout syndrome with dehydration, which led to a perfect combo of MC’s blood pressure dropping low enough to make them dizzy and pass out. 

* They explained to him that MC would need to take at least a couple of weeks off of work to recover, that they should rest as much as possible and try to relax-think about their work as little as possible, do some more enjoyable activities when they have the strength to.

* Yoosung took every word of the doctors to heart-once he took MC back home, he called his university to say he’d be unable to attend classes for a few days, and spent his time looking after MC-from making sure they’re drinking water every hour, to eating three full meals a day and relaxing in bed-the moment they tried to get up to do some chores he’d pick them up and carry them back to bed with a disapproving frown-MC giggled, but didn’t tell him how much like a mom he felt at that instant. 

* They were just grateful to have a boyfriend that cared so much about them.

ZEN:

* Being a fellow work-a-holic, he’s been through burnout syndrome more than a couple times-so when he saw MC’s fatigue, how they’d barely have the energy to talk when they came back home, he knew instantly what’s up.

* He begged MC to take some time off, but they simply shook their head with a tired smile, telling him it’d be fine, that they would be good as new after a goodnight’s rest.

* Well, MC couldn’t be more wrong. See, when you’re stressed to the bone, your body reacts, of course it does. And one of the ways it reacts is to lower its immune system, making you all the more prone to colds and flus.

* By morning, when Zen shifted in bed to caress MC’s cheek and gently wake them up, he found their skin burning, a clammy sheen of sweat on their forehead. 

* Scared, he shook them awake, jumping out of bed to look around for a thermometer. MC was drowsy and woke up with a hacking dry cough, one they had for a few days now but kept trying to surpress when around Zen.

* Sure enough, MC was burning up. Without a second thought, Zen picked MC up like a ragged doll, helped them get changed and dressed into something warm, and dashed them to the emergency room, catching the eye of every doctor and nurse in there.

* It took little time for a doctor to examine MC-the problem was clear, they had a bad cold, but it was more than that, the doctor informed Zen. They seemed way more fatigued than the average cold should turn them into, and their blood results were a mess-everything was in the lows, along with more medical jargon Zen didn’t really understand-he just wanted to know what’s wrong with his MC, asap.

* “To put it simply”, the doctor continued, MC’s lab results in their hands, “given the hours they told us they’ve been working, it’s most likely they’ve been suffering from burnout syndrome, which eventually led to them getting this seasonal flu. They’ll be fine, we’ll prescribe some mild medications for the cough and fever, and with enough rest they should make a speedy recovery.”

* Zen was the gentlest he could be whilst watching over MC until their cold passed-he was the one to call their workspace and tell everyone about their condition, and then called his own workspace-MC begged him to go to work as usual, they’d hate to be the cause of him missing a role-but Zen shooed their worries away with a quick kiss.

* “Your well-being is more important than any role could ever be baby” he promised them, and it was true-nothing mattered to him more than MC. And he’d make sure to prove that to them in the upcoming days.

JAEHEE:

* Honestly, Jaehee’s no fool-of course she’s worked herself to the point of passing out before, and she’d be damned if she let the same thing happen to her MC.

* The moment MC came home a tired sleepy mess two days in a row, Jaehee knew they’d be on the downhill of fatigue and burnout within a matter of days. She explained all that to MC, who was slouched on the couch with their eyes half-shut, but MC tried to brush it away as nonsense.

* Well, Jaehee wouldn’t have it. She apologised to MC, but leaned over MC on the couch, snaking her hands around their waist...

* ...and snatched MC’s phone from their back pocket. She sent a short yet polite message to MC’s workspace about their condition and how they’d be unable to go to work for a few days, even though MC groaned and grumbled about it for hours, but soon enough their boss replied, saying it’s fine as they gave a heads-up notice, and that someone else would be replacing them for a few days.

* Jahee still had to go to work as usual, but before she left in the morning, she made sure there’s a hearty breakfast ready for MC along with grinded coffee beans, and told Jumin about the situation so she could leave work earlier than usual to go back to MC-say what you will about Jumin, but he also cared about his friends’ well-being, and of course allowed Jaehee to leave, even telling her if she can work from home she’s more than welcome to not come into the office the next day.

* Jaehe took Jumin’s offer, and the next morning when MC woke up, they woke up to the pleasant scent of coffee and waffles, and as they staggered into the kitchen they saw the loveliest of sights-Jaehee, an apron tied around her waist, the sun beaming through as she cooked and hummed a happy tune, her lips pursed into a small smile.

* MC couldn’t help it-they were so in love with this woman, they just had to dash up to her and wrap their arms around her waist, kiss the heck out of her as a thank you for everything; and Jaehee’s little shy giggle only made their heart flutter further.

JUMIN:

* He wasn’t home for a couple of days as he was also busy with work, so he wasn’t there to see MC’s condition deteriorate-how their work hours lengthened, how they came home dead to the world each night.

* Of course he talked with them via texts daily, and they seemed as cheerful as usual in their messages-he’d love nothing more than to call MC and hear their voice, but as they were busy and he had a day packed with meetings, he never got the chance to.

* One day his phone rang from an odd number-it was Yoosung, and before picking up, he noticed the flutter of notifications from the RFA messenger on his phone, wondering what this’d be about.

* Yoosung was frantic on the phone-he told Jumin how they’d been looking for MC all day and they wouldn’t reply to anyone’s texts, and that when they decided to check MC’s workspace, they found out from their co-workers that MC had passed out during their shift and was rushed to the hospital where they were at right now, the whole RFA there with them.

* Jumin dropped everything. In that instant, that was the very first time he felt this breath-shuddering feeling, the one that makes your heart still-fear. 

* He ran out of the conference room and into the car-he didn’t even wait for Driver Kim to come drive him, no, he instead grabbed the car and drove like a madman to the hospital, nearly crashing at every turn, and definitely bumping into another car whilst parking-he didn’t care, not right then, when his MC was in danger, their life on the line-

* Well, okay, their life wasn’t really on the line, but for Jumin, any little thing that could happen to MC was life-or-death to him.

* He ran to their room, and found MC, awake and alert albeit a little tired, the rest of the RFA gathered around them-they had an IV hooked to their arm, but otherwise they seemed okay.

* He collapsed beside them on his knees as he saw their small smile, hiding his face in his hands. 

* “I was so worried..” he whispered to himself, and only looked up when he felt MC shift and run their free hand through his hair; they seemed sad even though they were smiling down at him.

* “I’m sorry I worried you” they said and Jumin shook his head, grabbing their hand in his and kissing their wrist.

* “No, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I promise you, I’ll never leave you alone again. Never.”

* He wasn’t exaggerating-the moment MC was back in the penthouse he took two weeks off, and called MC’s work to tell them they’d be resting for the following month-and well, no one could say anything to one Jumin Han, now could they?

* He spent mornings cooking them both breakfast, something he was surprisingly good at-he’d bring MC fresh tea and breakfast in bed, would spend the day with them and made sure they were resting while he caught up with what work he could on his computer.

* He’d never admit how scared he was, but MC knew-there was no need for words. They took care of him as much as he took care of them, and slowly, they’d both be able to put this behind them-and MC vowed they’d care for themself more, for Jumin’s sake at least.

SEVEN/LUCIEL/SAEYOUNG:

* He got worried when MC came home from work silent as a mouse for a few days, barely nodding to him in response to his greetings. They seemed so tired, they refused to eat and simply staggered up to their bedroom to fall asleep in their day clothes, much to Seven’s dismay-he hated seeing MC like that, but he had no idea what to do.

* One morning he woke up later than usual, which was normal-MC had to get up earlier for work, but with his scedhule being as flexible as it was, he’d sometimes wake up with them, or sometimes he’d sleep in, after workign late into the night.

* Only this time as he woke, he felt MC still sleeping next to him-but it was a workday. Did they oversleep? Should he wake them?

* Gingerly, he shook MC awake, and his heart got caught in his throat-though they were breathing, as much as he shook them MC wouldn’t rouse. He ended up pinching them to get a reaction, and even then it was barely a small groan, their eyes fluttering half-open.

* “Baby, are you okay?? What’s wrong?!” he asked, cuppign their face between his hands.

* MC seemed deleriously drowsy. “I’m-I can’t move I’m so-tired” they trailed off, their eyes fluttering back shut.

* Seven frowned. He didn’t know what to do, so he decided to consult the internet while he let MC sleep some more-their symptoms seemed to match up with burnout syndrome, something he’d experienced often too, after days of being wide awake and working away on his laptop.

* He decided to let MC sleep in, and messaged their work through MC’s phone to let them know they were sick and would have to stay home for a few days.  

* By late afternoon, MC woke up-they were still drowsy, and more than panicked when they checked the time-but Seven was there to calm them down, running his hand through their hair as he gave them a cup of tea to drink.

* For the next few days he took care of them in every way he knew, how he once took care of his beloved twin-he’d make sure they ate properly, that they drank enough water, and when they seemed a little better, that they took a walk out together for fresh air.

* He’d never show MC how scared he was; but with the way MC held his hand, squeezing tight, he knew they knew. And he knew they’d never let their health get this bad ever again. 

SAERAN/RAY/UNKNOWN:

* Honestly, he’d been nagging at MC for days on end to take it easy-they’d been coming home from work so tired, and it broke his heart to see them this way. He tried to talk to them, firm but gentle when he said they should take it easy, but MC merely brushed him off, insisting they’d be fine-they could take care of their health.

* Well, if that’s the way they wanted it, fine-Saeran wouldn’t intervene. He simply kept a watchful eye on them.

* Until one day, as MC staggered back home from work, their gait unsteady-the moment Saeran came to greet them at the door and took in their disshelved state, he knew something was wrong.

* He had little time to react-one moment they were standing there, their hand on the door, the next they were falling to the floor like a raggedy doll, and Saeran barely managed to dash and catch them before their head hit the floor;

* He was panicked, his eyes wide, his heartbeat stammering in his chest-but instinctively, he knew what to do.

* A short while later MC fluttered their eyes open, taking in their surroundings-they were on the couch laying down, yet in their peripheral vision they could see Saeran-he was sitting beside them, holding their legs up from the knees, his face the picture of panic.

* When he saw MC awoke he let their legs fall, leaning over them to cusp their face. “MC? Are you alright? Can you hear me?”

* MC nodded, weak but alert. Saeran sighed, relief flooding him as he leaned his head onto MC’s belly, letting his shuddering breath and tear-filled eyes hide on the fabric of their shirt.

* “I’ll call your work. You’re staying home for the remaining week, wether you want to or not”. He tried to sound convincingly menacing, yet the tremor of his voice betrayed him. MC nodded nontheless-it was the first time they saw Saeran this shaken up, and they didn’t want to make him feel any worse.

* He looked up, letting MC see his reddened eyes. “Don’t do that again please just-you mean so much to me. I can’t MC, please don’t-please look after yourself. Please.”

* MC tried to sit up-Saeran shifted to stop them at first, but when they frowned at him he sighed, helping them sit up on the couch. They brought their hands around his neck, one sliding down to his back as they laid their head on the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry”, they whispered on his skin.

* Saeran shook. “No, no don’t be sorry-Just be healthy. Please, that’s all I ask of you. Don’t leave me.”

* “Never Sae, I’ll never leave you-we’ll stay home together for a few days, gather our strength. How’s that sound?”

* Saeran shifted away from them, eyeing them with a small tired smile. “Yeah. Yeah” he said as he leaned close, kissing their lips between every few words “I’ll take good care of you MC. I’ll nurse you back to full health, I promise.”

* And he did. He’d cook them meals, even though most ended up burnt or undercooked-MC loved them nontheless. He’d bring them flowers from the garden and sit beside them in bed as they talked for hours, would watch over MC when they fell asleep midway through a conversation-his heart stilled until he heart their breathing even out, scared every time they went silent. 

* And thye’d get better. Healthy again, back to the bright MC Saeran loved. And they’d thank him for taking such good care of them, but Saeran would shake his head with a blush, insisting he did nothing-he was just glad MC was okay.

* “I love you”, was the underlying message, but neither of them had to say it-they knew already. They knew.

-send me a mystic messenger headcanon/prompt for characters reactions!-

[australiancarisi]

Sonny Carisi ~Stay

A boring night on shift at the hospital changes when your boyfriend shows up  Words: 1992 I’m not a nurse I know nothing besides 15 seasons of greys anatomy so please don’t come at me A part of my Sonny universe 

It was a relatively quiet night in the Mercy Hospital ER. Just your usual drunks falling down, some parents overreacting after their kids hurt themselves, the odd accident here or there but for the most part your shift was going easy. And you weren’t complaining. 

You sat at the nurse’s desk sipping on your Redbull, scrolling through the patient database putting in all the notes the doctors and other nurses had written over the past few hours. 

“Next time a kid comes in here with a lego man’s head stuck in a hole of their body I’m not dealing with it” Nina huffed throwing a plastic bag with the toy in it “That’s the 8th of this week! stop giving stupid kids lego” 

“What did you expect when you became a nurse?” you asked, looking down to your phone. 

“Prince Charming not texted you in 10 minutes?” Nina gave you a smug look. You and Sonny had been dating for 8 months and it honestly has been amazing since day one. All your other relationships failed when they realised how hectic your schedule, most guys couldn’t work with the shift work. But Sonny got it. He was busier than you, it was rare that he wasn’t working whether actually on the clock or at home but he tried to make as much time as possible for you. He texts you constantly throughout the day and comes over to your apartment or to the hospital to drop off food for you. Because he knows that your diet would otherwise consist of Redbull and skittles from the vending machine. A part of you feels guilty when you see him walk through the ER doors when on shift because it obviously meant someone was hurt, but you got to see your boyfriend. 

“It’s actually been a while since I’ve heard from him” you sighed, the two other ER nurses on for the night, Tia and Mel walked up to the desk handed their notes over and putting on new gloves.

“Ambulance 3 minutes out, Police officer, gunshot wound, not sure how bad, there wasn’t much info” Tia said “Been told to take him straight to the surgery 2, it's being set up now”

“I’m sure he’s fine” Nina reassured you, your phone began to buzz and Sonny’s name flashed on the screen “see” 

“Hey gorgeous” you smiled into the phone, you really needed to hear his voice right now. 

“y/n” your blood ran cold as you heard Sonny’s lieutenant, Olivia Benson voice, not Sonny’s, came through the phone with sirens in the background. “Y/n you there?” 

“Please don’t tell me” you stood up, Nina was now by your side

“We’re 2 minutes out from Mercy, Amanda is with him” Olivia didn’t have to tell you the officer shot was Sonny, you knew. You ran towards the doors, you could hear the sirens. Liv and Fin’s car showed up in the ambulance bay first, the ambulance following closely behind. 

“two gunshot wounds to the upper left chest” the paramedic yelled as they got Sonny out, Amanda jumped out as well. 

“Sonny!” You screamed running towards him. Fin grabbed you pulling you out of the way so Nina, Tia and Mel could work on him. “Let me go! Fin! Fin! Let me go!” You managed to get out of Fin’s grip as they raced Sonny to the operating room. You ran closely behind, no longer listening to what anyone was saying, you just wanted to see Sonny, you needed to be with him. They pushed Sonny through the doors to the operating room, Nina turned around a pushed you away.  

“y/n don’t you know you can’t go in there” She said 

“I need to be in there! I need to help him!” you cried trying with all your might to get past her. 

“And that’s what we are going to do but we can’t give him our full attention if we are worrying about you, please” she begged, you stopped fighting long enough for her to close the door behind herself. You turned around and to see the squad there. 

Liv, Mike, Fin, Amanda.....

Amanda. 

She was covered in blood.

Sonny’s blood

Tears welled in your and streamed down your cheeks. Your back hit the door behind you as you fell in the ground. Sonny was behind that wall, bleeding, have god knows what happening and you couldn’t help him. You wanted to take care of him, you had to take care of him, that was your job. He looks after everyone so you made it your job to look after him. Liv slowly and quietly made her way over to you and helped you to your feet. As you stood she instinctively wrapped her arms around you. You were so thankful for her right in this moment. 

“Here” Mike hummed handing you a bottle of water, breaking your trance. It had been 3 hours since Sonny came in (2 hours since Nina had come out to give you an update) and you just felt empty. Barba had since shown up and Amanda had been given scrubs to change into. 

“Please just tell me” you pleaded, not to anyone in general but everyone shared looks. Every time you had asked them to tell you they always changed the subject “I need to know” 

“It doesn’t matter y/n-” 

“Yes it does” you cut Fin off, before turning to Olivia “Please tell me” 

“We have a DV vic, Sonny is the lead on the case, he gave her his card in case something happened” Mike started 

“She called said her husband had shown up at her house Sonny and Amanda went over and he was holding her hostage with a gun... Sonny tried to talk him down... he went for the gun and the guy shot him” Liv finished. They all looked at you, waiting for your reaction. 

“...is she safe? The victim?” You looked to Amanda 

“Uh, yeah yeah, she is. When the husband... when he shot Sonny he went into shock. I went to Sonny and she grabbed the gun and held him up until everyone else got there” Amanda said

“Okay good” you sighed in relief. Some good new “He has to pull through now, he has to know she’s okay” 

It was another hour until Nina finally came back out to you. As soon as you saw her you jumped to your feet and ran to your friend. You wrapped your arms around her and she squeezed you back. 

“Please please tell me he’s okay” you begged over and over again 

“He’s okay, he’s okay” she said and you heard everyone let out an audible sigh of relief. Nina let you go so she could talk to everyone but mainly you. “I’m not gonna lie he was touch and go for a while. He had 3 gunshot wounds. One was straight through his upper right arm, easy fix. One into his right shoulder which broke his clavicle but it was a clean break, it's been reset and he’s obviously going to need rehab” 

“Okay, and the third one?” you knew she was keeping something from you. She took in a deep breath “Nina please” 

“The third hit his aorta... it obviously caused us the most problem, he lost a lot of blood...like a lot. I’m gonna say this because it’s you, I didn’t think he was gonna make it... I was preparing to come out here and tell you he didn’t make it” 

“But he’s okay” Liv quickly jumped in 

“Yes” Nina nodded “the cardiologist repaired his aorta and his heart was pumping steadily, they’ve moved him to ICU while they get a room for him”

“Can we see him?” Amanda asked 

“You can all see him” Nina put an emphasis on the ‘all’ and looked at you “when he moves from ICU to the ward. It shouldn’t be too much longer” 

“But-” you started 

“No” Nina cut you off 

“But-” 

“No” 

“What if I-” 

“No and I’ve told ICU that you are not to step foot in there” 

“Nina!” 

“It's the rules! You know that no one is allowed in there after hours” Nina reminded you. “I’ll come get you when he’s been moved” 

It was about another hour before Nina came to get you to tell you he was in. For the first time ever you were glad you knew this hospital like the back of your hand. When you neared his room you slowed down when you heard his voice. That sweet Staten island accent that was like music to your ears. You could tell he was drowsy but that was too expected. 

“... I’m not just a cop I’m a detective” he said to Mel as you walked to the door. He was propped up on an angle, hooked up to an IV and heart monitor with his right arm in a sling.  His eyes fell on you and his eyes went wide “Heeeeeey babbbbbbbe” 

“Hey yourself” you giggled. All your stress and anxiety went away as soon as you saw him. It finally sunk in that he was okay. 

“hey hey” he poked Mel “this is my girlfriend she’s a nurse too. She’s the best nurse ever... no offence” Mell burst out laughing 

“She knows Sonny” you laughed 

“She does?! How?!” He exclaimed 

“We work together Sonny, you’re at y/n’s hospital” Mel shook her head as she kept writing notes 

“This is your hospital babe!? Why didn’t you tell me you own a hospital?!” he turned back to you. his eyes wide 

“I don’t own the hospital gorgeous, I work here remember” you walked around his bed to his side

“Ohhhhh, yes babe you’re right” 

“I’ll be back in an hour to check on him” Mel smiled at you. You thanked her as she left the two of you alone. “What’s all this babe business by the way? You never call me babe” 

“No I call you doll” he nodded, very seriously “you are my doll... Doll?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I’m sorry for worrying you” 

“It’s okay-” 

“No it’s not” he cut you off. He was very firm “I almost left you and I never wanna leave you. I heard you cry when I went in” he was concussion when he came in? You didn’t realise, now you felt bad that the last thing he heard before going under was you crying “Don’t. Don’t feel bad” 

“Do you remember when we first met?” You asked changing the subject 

“It was here, in the ER” he nodded 

“You were here to talk to a patient, she was really fragile and when you and Amanda came in, you demanded to see her and I thought who is this guy coming in here and throwing his weight around. And the patient was so scared and I was afraid you were going to hurt her” you told him “and then when you went in there you were so soft and gentle with her and I knew, I just knew you were a good one” 

“I’d seen you around the hospital a couple of times before that” Sonny confessed “Amanda used to make fun of me cause I was so hung up on you and then the moment I actually got to talk to you I was so nervous I could barely talk to you” 

“The other nurses used to keep track of you every time they came in cause they knew I liked you” 

“Liv would send me cause she knew I liked you” Sonny closed his eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair “I love you y/n” 

“I love you too Dominick” he blushed as you used his real name “get some sleep gorgeous, you need it” 

“You’re gonna stay right?” he mumbled, sleep was quickly taking over him 

“Of course I’ll stay, I’m always gonna be by your side” you whispered leaning over to his him as he drifted off.