#maybe someone outside of their company would be able to but they keep it under wraps out of fear of getting shut down

[ophiuranesque]

spent all last night creating a fictional disease so i might as well post this (insane ramblings in tags)

[twice-inamillion]

The Company

Peeping Tom

Smut and Story Building (Blackmail, Deep Penetration, Defloration, Creampie, Rough Sex, First Time, Choking, Light BDSM, objectification)

Chapter 6

3,585 Words

(You encounter a peeping Tom as you have fun with one of your assistants. She tries to use her newfound information against you, but instead, you end up using her. By the end, you found yourself a new toy to play with.)

You return to your office with IU after a business meeting outside the company. The two of you talk about what just occurred during the last few days and how busy it’s going to get moving forward. 

“How does it feel receiving your first private jet, sir?”

“I’m excited; I remember riding on my father’s jet when I was younger and always wanted one of my own. Now I just need to get it customized, and I’ll be able to use it.”

“Before that, we need to hire a flight attendant.”

“That’s true.”

“What about asking your father for one of his?”

“No, I'd rather get someone that has nothing to do with my father. I don’t want them to tell him anything about my business.”

“I’ll try to put a post online to hire an assistant.”

“Sounds good.”

“Any requirements?”

“Someone not too old, eye candy. You know my tastes.”

“Okay, I’ll try my best.”

“Also, any news on Big Hit and JYP?”

“I’ve heard that they are suffering a bit money-wise, so I think they are going to accept your offer.”

“Let’s see what they say. I don’t want to buy them outright, but I do want to hold a good chunk of shares, especially Big Hit. Bang Si-Hyuk seems like a pretty cool guy. He gave me a tour of his small building and even introduced me to his debuting group a while back. I really want to help the guy.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy with anything you give him, sir.”

“Let’s see how it goes.”

IU then hands you some documents and says, “This is some information I found out about JYP Entertainment. If you look at the third page, you can see that JYP was going to debut a new girl group under the name “6MIX,” but it fell through.”

“Oh, it seems like they had a hard time debuting due to one of their members leaving.”

“Yes, they added another member, Sana. It seemed like they were going to debut, but another of their leader also left the company, so they ended up scrapping the whole thing.”

“Poor girls, so much hard work and training to debut only to have it scrapped.”

“Yes, one in particular has been in their company for a long time. I heard she’s a very good singer.”

“Oh really? If JYP accepts the help, maybe I can ask him to release them from their contracts and send them my way.”

“I’ll keep you posted if there is any news, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“Would that be all, sir?”

“Yes.”

“I have a meeting with one of the girls, so I’ll head to my office.”

“Actually, I’m going to grab a bite at the cafeteria, so I’ll walk with you.” 

The two of you walk towards the hallway, slap IU's ass, and walk the opposite from each other. Little did you know that you were seen by someone, the person IU was going to have a meeting with.

———— 

You get a message from IU that she has received some inflation about the deal with Big Hit and JYP as you are coming from the gym. It’s been a few days since you got any information, so you’re excited to see what’s going on. Without changing, you walk into her office, sit on the couch, and listen to some good news. 

You might not have noticed that Jennie has been curious about the relationship you and IU have since she’s a higher-up than you. She doesn’t know about your real position in the company and only thinks of you as one of the staff members. She was shocked when she saw you slapped IU on her ass and decided to follow you after that. 

Today, she had another meeting with IU and planned on having a light snack at the cafeteria before meeting up with her. Since she finished early, she decided to head up to the administration floor and relax on the outdoor patio before the meeting. She exits the elevator and makes it to the top floor. Jennie walks down the hallway and notices how quiet it is. She wandered around and found Irene’s and the CEO's office before hearing a faint noise coming from the hall. She quietly makes her way to the noises and gets to IU’s office from where the noise is coming from. 

Jennie tries to listen and places her ear by the door. She hears moaning coming from the other side. She tries to make up what the people instead are saying and can only decipher the male voices yelling that he’s going to cum. 

After some silence, she notices that the voices are getting nearer and runs towards the opposite side of the hallway to where the patio is. She peeks her head out and sees you coming out the door and IU fixing her skirt. 

“What the fuck, were they fucking in her office?”

“Omg, he’s getting it on with a higher-up in the company. Maybe I can use this.” 

———— 

Later that night, you get a message from Jennie from your staff phone. You read the message, and it is asking you for help moving some items around the house. You’re not in the mood to message her that you can do it tomorrow, but she is persistent. 

Somewhat annoyed, you put on a shirt and head down the elevator to the floor where their apartment is. You ring the doorbell, and Jennie opens the door within a few seconds. She wears a loose crop top and small shorts that show off her petite body. 

“You said you needed to move some stuff, right?”

“Yeah, it’s in the living room.”

You walk to the living room and see the items she was referring to. You spend about ten minutes moving the things, and Jennie is watching you up close the whole time.

“Is that all you needed?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Alright, I’m going. I’m tired.”

“Okay, but I’ll call you if I need anything.”

“Please, don’t. The stuff wasn’t that heavy. Maybe try moving it between the five of you before calling me.”

You can tell that Jennie got upset by this based on her facial expression. “I don’t know why you’re complaining; it's part of your job.”

“It’s not. I was just doing this as a favor since you all just moved into the apartment, but that was a few months ago. You girls can figure stuff out,” as you grab your phone and head for the door. 

Upset, Jennie yells, “If you’re going to be a douchebag about it all like the CEO, you’re messing around with his assistant.” 

You turn around and see a grin on her face, blackmailing you. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I know that the two of you were fucking in her office the other day.”

“Lies.” 

“I saw smack her ass a while back, and this time, you were leaving her office, and she was skirted and had a smile on her face.”

“If that’s true, how would you know?”

“I heard the two of you doing it.”

“No one is going to believe you.”

“Hmph, I wouldn’t be so sure. I have the CEO’s number.”

“You’re bluffing. You don’t have his number.”

“Yes, I do,” she said, holding her phone out.

“Alright, do it.”

“Okay, I will” and is about to press the call button but then says, “actually, he might be busy with important stuff. I don’t want to bother him.” 

You know she doesn’t have your actual work number, so you tease her, “I don’t think he’s busy. Why don’t we go visit him and tell him the situation? I think he would be more than happy to hear about it.” 

You can see her expression change, and she says, “No, I think we can just leave it like that.”

You grab her waist, “Let’s clear things up. I don’t want rumors that I’m messing with the CEO’s assistant.” You pull her hand, exit her apartment, walk towards the elevator, and press the button for the top floor.

Jennie looks nervous but tries to hide her expression. “He’s going to be upset that we’re bothering him.”

“I don’t think so, plus you’re blackmailing me.”

When you arrive at the top floor, the elevator rings, and you both exit and walk towards the hallway. You ring the doorbell, but there is no answer. 

With a faint smile of relief, Jennie says, “See, he’s not here, so let me waist go.”

“Hmm… let me try something.” You press the numbers on the keypad and hear a ring, unlocking the door.

“How did you do that?”

You pull Jennie and lock the door. “Seems like no one is home. CEO-nim! Jennie and I are looking for you!”

“Stop, he’s going to be made that we’re inside his home. Let’s go.” 

“No, I don’t want to; let’s have a bit of fun.” You walk towards the kitchen, open the fridge, and grab a beer. “He has some good taste, nice.”

“Leave it; he’s going to get mad!”

“No, he won’t.”

“Yes, he is. I heard that he’s mean.”

“Really? They said that?”

“Irene said that he makes them work to the bone.”

“No, I don’t. Wait until I see her tomorrow.”

Jennie’s reaction changes, and she says, “What did you say?”

“Nothing, forget about it.”

“You said something.” She stops, looks around, and walks to the living room. She sees pictures of you and freezes. 

Frozen for also a minute, she turns around and says, “Are you CEO-nim?”

You want to play it off, but know that the gig is over. Instead, you smile and say, “Dang, you caught me. Surprise!”

Many things go through her mind, like how she ordered you around the apartment, teased you, and even tried to blackmail you. 

“So what’s this about having my phone number and blackmailing me about fucking IU.”

Jennie gets on her knees, rubs her hands together, and begs, “I’m sorry. I was just joking around. I didn't mean it.”

“It wasn’t funny. Why did you do it?”

She bites her lip and tries to come up with a reason, saying, “I don’t know. I just wanted to tease you a bit and got jealous.”

“Jealous? What for?”

“You’re my type, and when I saw you and IU, I wanted to blackmail you so you can do whatever I say.”

“You know, that could have really gone bad and gotten someone hurt.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“If you’re sorry, how will you take responsibility?”

“Ehh?”

“You said I’m your type, and you’re pretty cute yourself. How about we have some fun?”

Jennie can’t believe what your words. She knows she said that you’re her type, but that was as a staff/trainer. Now that she learned you’re the one in charge of the company, she doesn’t want to do anything that might endanger her chance at debuting but, at the same time, finds it kind of hot. 

“What did you have in mind?”

“What do you think?” giving her a smirk.

Jennie knows what you’re thinking; it’s not like she hasn’t thought about it herself. You come close to her and grab her small behind, causing her to yelp.

She’s being this close to her. You know that she’s small and petite, “too, like a doll.”

“What?”

Instead of replying, you pick her up, carry her to the guestroom, and toss her onto the bed. 

“Wait… what are you doing?”

“I’m going to fuck you.”

“I’m not ready yet.”

“I didn’t ask you if you were. I’m telling you what I’m going to do to you.”

Jennie is stunned by your words. The image of you has been turned 360 from ordering you around to the other way around. Deep down, she can’t help but feel small and submissive by someone so huge and powerful enough to change her life.

“Okay, I understand.”

“Since you do, then strip. I want to see what I’m going to be working with.”

Jennie gets off the bed and stands in front of you. She slowly begins to undress herself, taking off her crop top and her small shots.

Now in underwear, she shyly takes off her bra, revealing her small, cute breasts. She tries to cover them, “Don’t forget the bottom.”

You smile as she hesitates to pull down her panties and whines, “Do I really have to pull them down?”

“Do you want me to do them for you? Just letting you know that I won’t be gentle.”

“I…I’ll do it then,” as she slowly pulls them down until it drops on the floor and quickly cover her cunt. 

“Take your hands off.”

“But…”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

 Jennie removes her hands, revealing her semi-bare cunt. 

“Fuck, you have a pretty-looking pussy and a nice pair of tits. Lay down on the bed and spread that pussy for me.”

Jennie feels embarrassed but does what you told her. She lays on the bed and puts her legs up. She tries to spread her legs, but the idea of spreading them open and showing her pussy to someone for the first time is nerve-wracking. 

“Spread them more!”

She widens her legs until you see her whole cunt in view. With both her index and middle fingers, she slowly spreads her pussy lips, giving you a view of her unused cunt. “How’s this?”

“Hot. You’re making me hard.”

“Really? I’m making you hard?”

“Yeah. Want to see?”

Jennie has never seen a cock before in real life, only on the internet when she would masturbate while in the dorms. Seeing one in real life is making her both nervous and excited, “yeah. I want to see it.”

You undo the bottom and drop your buttons, leaving only your boxers and a large bulge in sight. 

Jennie can feel her heart beating faster as you pull down your boxers, which makes your cock springs out. “Wow, it’s so big. Can I touch it?”

“Of course,” you say with a grin.

Jennie, with her index finger, touches the tip of your cock and throbs, “Haha, it’s likes me.”

“How about grabbing it with your two hands?”

“Okay, but I don’t think I’ll be able to wrap my hands around it.” With her small hands, she tries to wrap her hand, almost touching her fingertips.

Turned on, you ask, “Can I take a picture?”

Jennie looks up at you and smiles, “Sure, you’re the boss, right? I have no say.”

“Glad to see you know your place.”

You grab your phone and take a shoot of Jennie handling your cock. “Try putting it in your mouth.”

“Like this?” as she uses the tip of her tongue to lick the head of your cock. “Yes, just like that.”

You record her slowly licking your length, your shaft, pulling the head in her mouth, and even her trying to take a bit of your cock in her mouth as she plays with her cunt.

“Fuck… I knew you were a slut” you say as she has your cock in her mouth. “Hmmm… I’ll be your slut, Daddy,” giving you a devilish smile. You grab her chin in between your hands and say, “We’re going to get along very well.” 

She stands and lays on the bed once more and willingly spreads her legs for you, spreading her pussy, and says, “Make sure you get a picture of this.” 

“You know how to turn on a guy, huh.”

“I just want to please you, Daddy. Plus, I want everyone to know that you’re going to be my first.” 

You can’t wait any longer; you need to fuck her now. You set the phone down, walked back, and spread her legs. She grabs your cock and presses it against her belly, and asks, “Is all of that going inside of me?”

“It’s going to go right in here and reach all the way up here,” as you trace your finger and her wet cunt all the way up to her belly button. 

“Fuck me already, Daddy. Make me a real woman,” begs Jennie.

You grab your cock and rub your shaft against her wet lower lips, spreading them and covering them in her sticky nectar. “I’m going to put it in; just relax.” She balls up her waist against her chest, “Okay.” 

Jennie nervously watches as you align your massive cock against her small entrance, waiting for you to be her first and only cock she’s ever going to taste. 

You press the tip on your cock and slowly insert yourself until you reach her thin barrier, which separates her from womanhood. You look directly into her eyes, signaling that you’re going to go all the way into it. She nods back and tries to prepare herself for what’s to come. 

You grab her small waist and, without mercy, put your weight onto her petite body and slam yourself into her fresh womb. “Fuck!!! I’m cumming; you’re too big; you’re making me cum!”

Jennie’s body spasms, and she tilts her head back as she feels her orgasm overwhelming her. 

“Haha, you just came from me putting it in? Let’s see how many times you cum.”

You don’t let her rest and put her into a mating press. She groans from not being able to ride off her orgasm, “Daddy, wait. You’re going to make me cum again. Let me rest.”

“A girl like you doesn’t deserve to rest; you’re my sex toy. I get to use you however I want,” slamming yourself inside her once again. 

Jennie cries as she feels her insides being rearranged by your cock, “Ahh, you’re messing me up inside! I won’t be able to with anyone beside you! Fuck…you’re stretching my small pussy out!”

Watching her becoming a mess is getting you more turned on. Even if it’s her first time, she’s a natural. You place your hand on her neck and firmly tighten your grip. Jennie panics when she feels your hand choking her, puts her hands around your arms, and looks at you in terror. “Shh… baby girl, calm down; I’m not going to hurt you, just something the both of us to enjoy. Trust me.”

Directly looking at you, she lets go of her hands and instead focuses on you, thrusting inside of her. “You feel so tight, Jennie; I feel like cumming already,” as you tighten the grip of your hand around her neck. 

You see Jennie trying to speak, so you loosen your grip, “Ahhh… cum… cum inside me, Daddy. I… I want to feel your cum in my tummy.”

You tighten your grip on her neck again as you fuck her roughly, only hearing the sound of both your flesh against each other. Little by little, you feel your peak approaching, a cold sensation in your back. 

“Fuck… I’m going to dump all my cum in your tight little pussy!” 

You feel all your cum shoot deep inside Jennie’s womb with your thick cum. Her eyes roll back from how tight you’re choking her as you pump a large load. Her body starts to go limp from the lack of air, so you let go of her neck and see the imprint of your hand around it. 

Immediately, Jennie gasps for air and comes back to her senses. “You’re such a good girl, Jennie. I think you’re going to be my favorite toy from now on.” 

She gives you a weak smile, grabs your hand, and places it back around her neck, “Keep fucking me, Daddy. I’m your dirty like toy.”

The two of you keep fucking all night long, every time you pump your cum in and on her body. At the end, you take a series of photos and videos of your work, Jennie’s body covered in cum and her cunt oozing out a mixture of both your juices.

—————

You wake up the next day and see Jennie under your arms. You try to get up, but she’s holding on to you. Rubbing her eyes, she turned around and said, “Good morning, Daddy.”

“Good morning, Jennie. How are you feeling?”

“Sore. I can still feel some of your cummies in my tummy. I feel my pussy gaped. I don’t think I'll be able to get married anymore, haha.”

“Good. You’re mine, anyways.”

“Jealous?”

“No. I just got like sharing my toys.” You grab her by the neck with a firm grip and say, “Don’t forget that, okay? You’re mine.”

“Yes, Daddy,” as she feels your strong hand choking her. 

You let her go and walk to the bathroom to freshen up. Jennie looks at her phone and sees text messages from her group mates asking if she visited her mom since she didn’t sleep at the apartment. 

Jennie replies to them and immediately gets an idea that makes her smile excitedly, “Daddy.”

“Yes.”

“Since I’m your sex toy, how about making the rest of us your toys?”

“You mean your groupmates?”

“Yeah, how bout it? Sounds like fun, right?”

“Doesn’t sound like a bad idea; I’ll think about it.”

[orchidyoonkook]

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 

Intimate. That would be a better choice. 

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty. 

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing. 

You just lost all your tips for the night. 

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 

Fuck. 

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it. 

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 

No one serves him but you. 

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath. 

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased. 

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 

No one calls the Devil by his first name. 

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 

No one except you. 

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 

The King of Hell. 

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 

And maybe he is. 

But not to you. 

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 

Yoongi. 

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 

And he looks like sin incarnate. 

Fitting. 

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you. 

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”  

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” 

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 

Beautiful. 

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait— 

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 

You’ve decided. 

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 

And apparently neither does Yoongi. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 

You trust Yoongi. 

“That's a good girl.” 

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?” 

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 

You’re the most powerful person here. 

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you. 

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 

Perfect in every single way. 

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 

Not yet. 

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 

Ever.  

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 

There was only you. 

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming. 

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 

It’s yours. 

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?” 

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.” 

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 

You just know it. 

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 

You never expected anything like that. 

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 

Because of you.  

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that. 

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 

He was yours now. 

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

[i-cant-sing]

I don’t see any Castlevania asks and that makes me sad as HELL

How would (Y/N) react to Lisa’s burning? How would Dracula’s war court react to her? And Hector and Isaac?

I'm gonna go down the platonic route and make reader Lisa and Dracula's daughter, biological or kidnapped/adopted.

Obviously, any normal human would not react well to anyone being burned at the stake- ALIVE. And maybe when the villagers caught Lisa, they caught you as well and thought you were a witch too. They burned your mother first and just when they had started to burn you, Dracula came and swooped you up and away, along with his now dead wife's remains and while you passed out due to inhaling all the smoke, sustaining some minor burn injuries and well- EXHAUSTION AND TRAUMA, your father returned to slay the entire village and later wreak havoc on all of humanity. Really, a justified reaction from a family man.

Anyways, he returns home with you in his arms and then nurses you back to health all while killing everyone outside. Now, he may still be soft to you but you are absolutely forbidden from leaving the castle. Like you cant even go outside even if Dracula accompanies you. No, he's lost his wife and if youre their bio kid who is more human than vampire unlike your older brother Alucard, then Dracula is way more protective of you. After all, he did see you almost die and really, you remind him far too much of his wife, of her humanity and her kind heart to help others that eventually got her killed.

Initially, right after Lisa's death, Dracula didn't even allow you to even leave your room, too paranoid about some unknown force killing you and him not being able to save you in time. Eventually though, with other vampires and monsters(under his control obv) in the castle, he let you out of your room, but still not out of the castle, and thats when you found out that he had thrown out Alucard and (sort of disowned him??) because your brother was not in favour of Dracula either killing the world or locking you up.

Now, like I said before, Dracula is still soft for you but with Lisa's death he's become a little... emotionally crippled. He has too much pain and hatred inside him, and he's doing his very best that you dont end up on the receiving end of these very negative and very dangerous emotions. However, he sometimes... loses control. When you keep on persisting about how all of this is wrong, about how he shouldnt kill ALL humans, how he shouldnt lock you up or break what remains of this family, he lets his anger out on you. Only a little. He'd yell at you, tell you that you're far too stupid an naive and stubborn to understand what he's doing or why, ask if you're going to side with those murderers that you so desperately want to save over your own family? Are you that blind? He'd drag you back to your room, lock you in there because he wont have you questioning him like he's the bad guy here.

But soon after that, he'd be found sitting in front of one of Lisa's portraits, probably one where she's cradling baby you and he'd start talking to her, trying to explain himself, how he did not mean to blow up at you but you just wouldn't listen to him. The one sided conversation would always end with Dracula feeling guilty and he returns to your room with a heavy heart that just sinks more when he sees you asleep, tear streaks now drying on your cheeks. Sitting on your bed, he'd pet your hair, mumble something about how he loves you and cant afford to risk losing you, smiling softly when you shuffle closer to him.

Since Dracula knows Hector is loyal and sincere to him, he will allow you to have him as your friend. After all, you would need some company in the castle and vampire dad on murder spree is not exactly someone who is ideal for friendship at the moment. So, he permits and even encourages Hector to socialise with you and comfort you. And Hector has a bleeding heart too, so you're in luck because he will happily listen to you express your emotions and provide you with free therapy (he makes dead, one missing limb/eye puppies alive for you🥺) He just wanna protect u too, and while he doesnt agree with you being locked up in the castle, its better than the alternative. Also, has and will fight Isaac 1000% if he talks shit about you because youre human.

As for the court, they know that you are now the only thing dear to Dracula, and while one wouldnt say that you have the vampire king wrapped around your finger, he comes pretty close to it. But its no use really because they cant exactly use you to make Dracula listen to them... or can they?

Considering that you're pretty against the whole "Vampire uprising-kill all humans" plan, they cant persuade you to enslave or kill humans. What they can do is gain Dracula's favour by being... kind to you? Okay take Carmilla for example (because she's the only one I can remember from the court. Her and the brash, red haired vamp?) Now she's smart, she's manipulative and she knows exactly how to use this opportunity. She starts to befriend you by first agreeing that she understands why you're against your father's actions but also tells you that you must understand his decisions from his side. "Your mother was a kind woman, a brilliant doctor and from what I've heard, your father loved her very much. And if you've ever been in love, then you would understand why he's doing all of this." And of course Dracula overhears this because come on, nothing happens in his castle without his knowledge. So yes, he shows slight favouritism towards Carmilla among the court and he may allow her to hang around you a bit (only after Carmilla convinced him that you needed a female friend in your life, and its always better to be in her company than any of those perverted men of his court) but even then, Dracula doesn't completely trust her around you and so he wont allow you two be in contact often.

Dracula would also be way more conscious of your feelings with time, because he will realise eventually that he was far too caught up in his own pain and plan for vengeance that he forgot to see how you were coping with the loss of your mother. If any of the vampires are heard saying something even remotely mean to you, if he even hears Isaac even breathing in disgust at the sight of you because you were part human, they will be swiftly dealt with (girl, he murders them all).

You're his baby, his sweet human kid, his little princess and he wont have anyone or anything taking you away from him. (LET HIM PULL YOU IN HIS LAP AND WRAP HIS CLOAK AROUND YOU AND DRIFT OFF IN HIS ARMS BECAUSE YOU'RE THE ONLY WARMTH LEFT FOR HIS COLD DEAD HEART OMGGGG)

Ah i miss Castlevania asks too, platonic yandere castlevania asks especially. everyone send in ur asks.

(omg what about yandere brother Trevor Belmont?)

[nerdyqueerandjewish]

7 Types of Rest

I've been reading a bit about this and jotting down some notes because the framework is helpful for communicating my different kinds of exhausted and gives me ideas on how to help myself more, and idk I thought I would share because I think other people might find it useful or interesting. I don't have just one article on it to recommend because unfortunately they are almost all trying to sell you their telehealth services or a meditation app or whatever.

**Disclaimer that resting isn't going to fix everything, examples of things to do aren't going to be accessible to everyone, they are just meant to be a start to brain storming, this is not medical advice etc...**

Physical - Relates to activities that are physically restorative

Mental - Relates to taking a break from mental stimulation

Spiritual - Relates to the fundamental need for belonging, purpose and acceptance

Emotional - Relates to being able to experience and express your real and authentic feelings

Sensory - Relates to giving your senses a break from stimulation

Social - Relates to feeling energized by spending time with people who contribute to your life in positive, supportive, and meaningful ways

Creative - Relates to appreciating beauty or feeling awe/wonder

Notes I made for "signs you need x type of rest" and actually getting that type of rest are under the cut. Again, they are personal so take them with a grain of salt. Also some of my notes on things I could do would definitely apply to others. I didn't want to keep writing "go outside" and "journal" for over half of them lol.

Physical Rest

Signs you may need physical rest

Feeling fatigued, body aches and pains

Feeling mentally sluggish or foggy

Getting some relief

Prioritize getting good quality sleep

Go on walks or engage in other gentle physical activity

Stretch throughout the day

Getting a massage (maybe trade with a friend or partner?)

Improve the ergonomics of your workspace

Mental Rest

Signs you may need mental rest

Unable to concentrate or recall simple things

Unable to relax

Racing thoughts

Getting some relief

Schedule breaks throughout the day

Write things down (can help racing thoughts or things you're worried about forgetting)

Do a satisfying activity that doesn't require much thought (example: coloring pages, simple craft)

Spiritual Rest

Signs you may need spiritual rest

Feeling lack of purpose or belonging

Getting some relief

Get involved in local community

volunteer

pray or meditate

Emotional Rest

Signs you may need emotional rest

Feeling weighed down

Stifling/suppressing feelings

Strong need to please others

Getting some relief

Talk to someone who allows you to be your authentic self

Participating in a peer support group

Journaling

Sensory Rest

Signs you may need sensory rest

Feeling energized at the start of the day, but becoming more irritable as the day progresses

Getting distracted by noises other people seem to be able to tune out

Getting some relief

Use dimmable lighting or lamps

Regularly set notifications to do not disturb

Use power strips to easily turn off multiple appliances at once

Avoid running loud appliances during busy parts of the day (ex. if washing machine is loud, don't run it while you're trying to pack and get out the door on time)

Social Rest

Signs you may need social rest

Feeling drained, exhausted

Feeling like your only interactions are with people who want/need something from you

Getting some relief

Nurture life-affirming, meaningful relationships

Make time for socializing with friends who don't "need" anything from you, where you can just enjoy each other's company

If you know you will be interacting with someone you find draining, make a plan to engage in social rest after

Creative Rest

Signs you may need creative rest

Feeling "blah"

Struggling with problem solving or brainstorming

Getting some relief

Go out in nature

Spend time in inviting spaces

Listen to music

Watch a skilled performer

Display items you find visually appealing in both home and work spaces

[staylovesmiley]

Connected~ Chapter 3

ᯓᡣ𐭩Pairing; Bangchan x Fem!Reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩Summary; Lumi had been a trainee at JYPE for years. Having entered the company a couple years after Chris the two became good friends, maybe even more. As she watched her best friend finally achieved his dream, the distance between them grew. With her debut date finally set in stone, will the two be able to rekindle their flame or will the connection between them falter?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 Notes; This is an ABO!AU. in this world when someone reaches puberty they will present with one of three sub genders; alpha, beta, or omega. Scent glands are located near the pressure points on the neck and small hormonal patches called scent blockers can be placed over them to reduce or rid an individual of their scent for a period of time depending on the strength of the hormones in the patch.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩Warnings; abo!au, female!reader, poly!pack dynamics, angst, mild violence, smut, old friends to lovers, she/her pronouns used for reader, jealous Bangchan, Reader is an OC, Mentions of unhealthy dieting(forced by the company), Reader is three years younger than Chan (‘00 liners unite!!)

The second the door had closed behind them, the air felt heavy with unspoken words and left the omega feeling as if the gravity had been sucked out of the room.

The two made their way over to the couch where Lumi gestured for Chan to have a seat, she herself sitting in a chair opposite from where he stood by the sofa. He did so, looking over to watch her anxiously as if she would disappear at any moment and he would wake up from whatever dream it was that allowed him to see the dancer again.

They sat like that for a while in silence, just watching each other from over the coffee table as neither one were sure how to start the difficult conversation ahead. “You look good, Chris…” came her timid voice, hands gesturing to him and he felt a heat creep up the back of his neck and onto his cheeks. “Oh um, thank you….so do you- I like your hair.”

It was her turn to blush as her gaze fell to her lap and a hand came to run through the pink loose curls as they fell to hide her face from the other. “Thanks-“ Another wave of silence washed over them, the sounds of other idols and staff filling the halls outside and working as a distraction against the situation at hand.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, the alpha spoke up finally. “Why didn’t you tell me…” the hurt in his voice stung as Lumi refused to meet his intense stare as he once again seemed to be trying to read her mind to find the answers for himself.

“I tried, I did…that day in the studio when you told me about the show-“ his heart felt like it stopped at that, he knew there had to have been something more Lumi wanted to discuss but in his excitement and selfishness he brushed it off and just hoped she’d tell him. He wished in that moment he could go back in time and push her to tell him what was really on her mind, even if she resisted for his sake at first he knew he could have gotten her to tell him the truth eventually.

“Why did you leave? If you were still planning to become an idol why switch companies?” She sighed, running a hand through her hair anxiously as he continued to question her. “Because I wasn’t going anywhere at jype, Christopher. They were going to keep me in the basement until I aged out or until I eventually slipped up and was no longer worth keeping around.”

His brows furrowed, arms up defensively. “You don’t know that! You quit before you could find out-“ his accusation only seemed to light a fuse inside of her as she shot up from her seat to tower over the alpha. “I didn’t quit! I found a company that actually valued me enough to debut me!” Chan scoffed, eyes rolling dramatically as he also rose from his seat. “Yeah after seven.fucking.years! Seriously, Lumi? You think that’s any better than what could have happened if you stayed?! You could have been debuted by now and already have a few years of idol life under your belt by now had you just stayed!”

As his voice began to rise so did the omega’s temper and she laughed incredulously, shaking her head at the raven haired alpha. “At least at KQ I wasn’t alone. By the time I finally decided to leave you had already replaced and forgotten about me.”

Now Bangchan felt his anger spike, giving her a glare as he stepped up so their chests were practically touching. “What the fuck do you mean, Lumi? The second I had a moment of peace I went looking for you and you were gone!” Shaking her head, the dancers rage persisted. “Yeah after you didn’t so much as spare a glance my way in the halls for months, Christopher! Seriously- you don’t realize how fucked up that was?!”

Lumi turned away from him, fingers running through her hair as she tried to calm down. She felt like she was back seven years ago watching her best friend, the only home she had come to know in the foreign country, completely ignore her while his laughter with his newfound pack echoed throughout the company no matter where she went she would see glimpses of his dimpled smile directed at the members she couldn’t help feel like had taken the alpha from her.

“You don’t seem to realize that I was busy! There was so much pressure on me, Lumi- I couldn’t even sleep I was trying to hold an entire new pack together while also under the stress of training and preparing to debut while it was all being filmed for millions to watch just waiting for me to fail!” The volume of his voice caused it words to bounce off the walls of the green room, the intensity of his outburst chilling those who happened to be in the vicinity to hear their argument.

The omega scoffed, shaking her head as she whipped around. “Yeah, I get that. I told myself that for so long- that you were just busy. But you don’t think I was under a lot of stress as well?! So much was changing, the company was putting more pressure on me to diet and change my appearance, to improve in areas that looking back now I don’t know how I was supposed to even get any more precise than I already was? It was all too much and on top of it all I lost the only support system I had-“ Tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill over as she stepped back over to him with a finger poking at his chest.

“You, Hanji, and Bin were like my family, my-“ Her voice caught in her throat slightly but she persisted, refusing to shed a single tear in front of him. “My pack.” With a shaky breath, Chan stared down at her with wide eyes and a shocked expression as he took in her words. “You all abandoned me, got a nice shiny new pack and all this fame and it didn’t matter if I stayed or if I left….everything was different and you didn’t need me anymore. Or didn’t want me-“

Chan reached out, his chest tightening as he felt the strong urge to comfort the omega, to assure her that it would be okay and that he was there now and that he would make it up to her, but as he lifted his arms to pull her into an embrace she stepped away quickly. “I think you should go, Chan….it’s almost time for the end of the show and our groups are gonna be needed on the stage soon.” Her voice was small, and he swore he saw a single tear slip down her cheek. His throat felt impossibly dry as he nodded, eyes still not leaving her until he heard the door open and close behind them.

“Um- Hi! So sorry to interrupt but we gotta go line up to go on stage.” Mani spoke firmly, trying to sound polite but the alpha could tell there was a slight bite behind their words as they moved to wrap an arm protectively around the younger omega.

Chan nodded, head swimming as he felt like he was lost in a haze from the adrenaline and anger filled state he had been in moments ago. “Right- sorry….I’ll be going.” With that he backed out of the room, feeling like there was a rock sitting in the pit of his stomach as he made his way back to the kids to get ready to go back to the stage as well.

After that day, the rest of promotions for both groups was tense behind the scenes.

Lumi would greet Jisung and Changbin warmly, meeting with them in the cafeteria or in her green room to catch up. They even exchanged phone numbers and promised to keep in touch once it was all over.

Chan didn’t attempt any further contact with the dancer, feeling as if a knife were being twisted in his gut anytime he saw her laughing and smiling with one of his members from afar. The alpha couldn’t bring himself to start their conversation back again, guilt eating away at his conscious as her words bounced around his head like a dodge ball loud and squeaky in a large echoing gymnasium.

“You abandoned me” and “You didn’t need me anymore. Or want me-“ are the words that kept him awake, far worse than his sleep apnea ever had before.

The kids tried several times to get him to come around. Felix practically begging him once to tag along when he and Changbin went out for hotpot with the pink haired omega. He’d politely declined the younger alpha’s invitation, using the excuse that he had something he wanted to work on in the studio.

Chan saw through social media and heard through stories from his pack about how his friend was doing and it felt like daggers to his heart every time but he would never show it. The leader always put on a smile and nodded, telling them that he was glad she was doing well.

Deep down there was a longing to be in their place, but he didn’t think that would ever be possible. Not after the asinine moves he had pulled.

Lumi was no better.

Anytime she met with one of them she found herself subconsciously searching for his scent on them, any lingering of his presence in the air around his pack members.

Once when she hugged Jeongin in greeting when she had met up with the younger for coffee before his vocal lesson one day she caught a large wave of warm vanilla washing over her and it made her feel lightheaded in the best way possible. It turned out that the beta had borrowed one of the alpha’s hoodies since the one he had wanted to wear was in the wash still.

None of them were oblivious to it either.

They saw the look in their leader’s eye whenever she was brought up, the longing and sorrow deeply settled there no matter how hard he tried to bury it.

They noticed the way the dancer clung to them more on days they had borrowed something of Chan’s, her demeanor seeming more at peace with the alpha’s scent close to her.

Jisung was the worst, almost egging it on and watching with amusement as he tried to break down both of their resolves piece by piece.

First, he would allow the omega to scent him heavily whenever they hung out just to go back to the dorm and take a nap in the leader’s bed, leaving Lumi’s scent behind for the alpha to find when he got back home late after working in the studio.

Second was he would always borrow something of the oldest’s before meeting up with the dancer after realizing how she would behave with his scent present. Once he even got lucky and on a particularly chilly day he had met Lumi for dinner, she had forgotten her jacket in the manager’s car so he offered her the zip up hoodie he had on.

He didn’t mention that it wasn’t exactly his, but Chan’s instead.

Once the smell of vanilla and something like brown sugar surrounded her the omega’s cheeks tan warm and her heart began beating rapidly. Lumi didn’t utter a word about it, silently enjoying being able to soak up the alpha’s scent in the most direct way that she had the chance to in seven years.

As they were parting ways after the meal, Jisung cheekily insisted she hold onto the jacket and return it next time they saw each other, feigning worry for her health should she catch a cold without it. Really he was just using it as another means to attempt and bring the two former friends back together again.

As summer turned to fall and the air outside began to chill significantly, Lumi found herself spending more and more time with the members of stray kids.

She even managed to bond with Minho, who she previously had never officially met, due to his close bond with Jisung.

With Halloween approaching the pink haired dancer found herself with a rare night to herself at the dorm as Mani had gone to visit her father for the weekend.

Lumi decided to call Jisung and invite them over for a night of snacks and horror movies in honor of the upcoming holiday. Much to her dismay he didn’t seem to enthused with the idea of scary movies.

“Come on, Hanji it’ll be fun! I know you aren’t the biggest fan of horror but we can all get scared together! The guys are all invited, of course. Just let me know a headcount so I can get the right amount of snacks.”

With a smirk, the beta thought about his current plan involving getting the dancer and his leader to reconnect. “Do you mind if Chan hyung tags along too? It’ll be an excuse we can use to finally pull him out of the studio…you know how he can be.”

Oh she knew very well how he could be, back then at least, she could only imagine how bad it got now that they were actually debut and there being a new level of expectation placed on his shoulders. Hesitantly, she thought it over while Han waited impatiently on the other line. “Lumi? Still there?” The omega startled a bit, having gotten lost in thought of the alpha she couldn’t deny she missed desperately being in her space where his comforting smell of warm sugary vanilla could be left behind and linger for days to come. “Sure- he can come.”

Han tried not to sound too happy at the extended invitation, punching his fist in the air and causing Hyunjin to give him a curious yet judgmental look from across the practice room. “Awesome! Okay, we’ll be over in like an hour? Don’t worry about snacks me and the guys will pick them up on our way! Text me whatever you want, ‘kay?”

Lumi shook her head, hoping this wasn’t a bad idea before agreeing to text him her desired snacks before ending the call. Suddenly she felt the apartment wasn’t tidy enough with the addition of a somewhat special guest and so while waiting for them to finish their work at the company and head over the dancer began cleaning up and making sure everything looked to her standards before anyone arrived.

Just as he has said, roughly an hour later there was a knock at the front door startling the dancer a bit as she had been so busy making sure the place was presentable she seemed to lose track of the time. “I’m coming, just one second!” The omega looked down at her appearance in just a sports bra and a pair of loose fitting sweatpants and made a little groan before rushing to the small laundry room in the back of the apartment to find a shirt.

Another knock sounded after a few minutes as she was struggled to find a decent shirt to put on that was clean. “Just come in! Door is unlocked-“ she called out, figuring by the time they all made it in she would have found something and be able to greet them in the main area of the apartment. Lumi was mistaken, however. With her upper body almost fully inside the dryer as she searched frantically for any clean shirt at that point, a chorus of giggling and whispers drew her attention.

“Baby what are you doing?” Changbin called out, his tone amused and somewhat teasing. At the sound of them standing outside the laundry room door, the omega hit her head on the way out of the dryer. “Ah-“ she held the back her head where it had hit the top inside of the dryer, sitting defeatedly on the floor. “I can’t find a shirt-“ Lumi huffed, looking up to see not only Changbin but the entire rest of the stray kids were standing there staring at her. Some wore wide eyes expressions while others seemed to find it amusing, others smirked.

Felix spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest. “Hey, I’m not complaining if you can’t find one.” He flirted playfully causing the dancer to blush and look away.

Chan, who was standing beside the freckled alpha, felt the familiar sting of jealousy burn inside him at his members obvious staring at the omega’s partially dressed state. “Here, baby- put this on.” Han said as he tossed her a hoodie, the same zip up hoodie of Chan’s he had loaned the dancer a few weeks previously.

She gave the beta a smile, pulling it on and zipping it up most of the way. “Thank Hanji. I was a little distracted earlier and forgot I was doing laundry and wasn’t exactly fully dressed-“

Chan felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest when he saw what Jisung had handed her to wear. That hoodie- one of his favorites that he had been missing and didn’t have a clue where it had gone.

As the group made their way back to the living room, the alpha took hold of the beta producer’s shoulder and held him back to have a word while the others went on ahead. “Where the fuck did you find that? I’ve been looking for that hoodie for weeks now!” He said through grit teeth, staring at Jisung with bewilderment.

The younger smirked and offered his leader a shrug. “I wore it out a few weeks ago to meet Lumi and she forgot her jacket- it was cold out and I didn’t want her to get sick so I said she could borrow it.” The alpha glared, causing Han to hold his hands up in defense. “I was gonna get it back! But everyone was staring and I saw it laying on her bed from the open door to her room so I just- thought fast?” He explained, rambling slightly in true Han Jisung fashion.

Wait, on her bed? Why was his jacket, which she had to have known was his from the scent, on her bed of all places? His mind began working overtime and the once defensive Jisung regained his smug smile before moving to join the others in the living room. “Come on, hyung or we’ll miss the beginning of the first movie!” He called out cheerily, plopped himself down on the floor in between Minho’s open legs where he sat with his back resting against the bottom of the couch.

Chan stood frozen, blinking a few times before shaking his head and making his way after the beta into the living room. He looked over to see Lumi cuddled up into Changbin’s side with a bowl of popcorn on their laps, his stomach doing flips seeing how she had pulled the hood of his jacket up causing the scent that remained embedded in it from countless wears by the alpha to surround her almost completely. It caused something inside him to snap and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her through the entirety of the first movie.

One movie down and they were all getting a bit more hungry than just snacks could fix so they all agreed ordering in would be the best decision.

Lumi stood in the small kitchen of her shared apartment, phone in hand as she placed the order for pizzas to be delivered for all of them.

As she leaned against the counter, making sure the address was put in correctly and hitting confirm she felt another presence enter the room. Looking up she came face to face with Chan as he stood directly in front of her.

Upon the sudden close proximity, the dancer jumped and almost dropped her phone in surprise. “Geez, Chris- warn a girl next time will ya?” She joked, trying not to seem to on edge around the alpha though her mind was spinning knowing he was so close she could reach out and touch him. The last time they were this close it was during a screaming match as they argued about her departure from jype.

“What was my hoodie doing on your bed?” He said accusatorially, looking the omega in the eyes as she seemed to freeze at the question. “I- Ji let me borrow it the other day? It’s just where it landed when I took it off, it’s not a big deal…” She explained it away, not wanting to admit to him that she had slept with it on almost every night since receiving it.

His fingers caught the hem of the hoodie, rubbing the fabric between them slowly as he stepped even closer. “It looks good on you…” he said it so quietly she thought she misheard him, until she looked up into his eyes and saw how softly they admired her. “Chris….” Her voice was hesitant, swallowing hard as the smell of vanilla and rose water engulfed them both.

The alpha quickly caged her in against the counter, head dipping down towards her neck yet he made no further move to scent her. “I’ve been such an idiot.” He said, head falling to rest against her shoulder.

Lumi’s breath caught in her throat at the contact and without thinking on it further she set her phone on the counter behind her and brought her arms around his waist slowly, afraid of scaring him off should she move too suddenly.

Chan sighed, shoulders slumping with relief as she took him into her arms so carefully. “You were…but I wasn’t very fair to you, either-“ he pulled away, looking into her eyes with furrowed brows. “Stop that, Lumi. You were right…I- I abandoned you completely. I can’t believe I did that…I don’t know what was wrong with me.”

She shook her head, one of her hands moving to cup his cheek while she looked into his eyes with an empathetic expression. “You were so young…we both were- you had the weight of the fucking world on your shoulders and I didn’t offer you any grace on that fact.” He continued to frown, leaning into her touch as he let the smell of sweet roses flood his senses. “Missed this…missed you-“

The omega smiled, resting her forehead against his. “I won’t go anywhere if you don’t…” she teased, causing the alpha to wince. “Again, I’m sorry…seeing you reconnecting with Ji and Bin has been torture- I felt like I didn’t deserve your forgiveness…or your friendship.” Lumi frowned now, moving her other hand now to cup the other side of his face and smoosh it slightly. “Christopher you’re too hard on yourself, always have been. Can you just- relax for once? Not be so- self sacrificial?”

Chan blinked rapidly, eyes shifting from hers to her lips as decided to listen to her words and crash his lips against the omegas in what he considered to be a very selfish act on his part.

For a moment she froze, gasping against his lips in shock at his actions. Soon she was melting into the kiss, hands still cupping his face as his came to rest on her hips.

The kiss was hungry, laced with years of longing and desperation for each other and before long Lumi was moving her hands to lock behind his head as she deepened the kiss with a swipe of her tongue across his lower lip.

A low growl erupted from the alpha’s chest, causing goosebumps to raise on the dancer’s skin. Chan mumbled a quick “jump” against her soft lips and as she followed the direction he was lifting her up and placing her on the counter behind them.

Lumi bit back the squeal that threatened to escape at just how strong the alpha was, wrapping her legs around his waist while continuing to kiss him with enough passion she hoped would convey just how much she needed him even after all those years apart. A need that scared her and caused her fear of being abandoned yet again to spark to life suddenly.

Eventually the had to pull away for air, chests heaving as they attempted to catch their breaths stolen in the heat of the moment. From the living room they both heard the sound of Changbin calling out to ask if the food had been ordered yet or not, both of their heads turning to make sure no one had witnessed their blatant act of pda.

“Oh um- yeah Binnie I just finished placing it now!” Lumi answered, trying not to sound so breathless as Chan bit his lip to hold in his laughter. “We should go back to the others…” she said, placing a hand on his chest to push him away so she could hop down from the counter only for his hand to wrap around her wrist and hold it there. “Are we….we need to talk about what just happened-“ he said, looking into her eyes with an unreadable expression.

Shaking her head, the pink haired dancer pulled her hand away before getting down from where he placed her on the counter top and stepped around him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about- nothing happened.“ was all she said before disappearing to reclaim her spot next to the omegan rapper.

Oh he was so absolutely and royally fucked.

author’s note; oh this is gonna be so fun~ hope you guys enjoyed! This chapter is brought to you by “the perfect pair” by beabadoobee as I had that shit on loop while writing this ᕱᕱ₊˚⊹♡ as always lmk what you think~~

taglist; (pink users means I was unable to tag) @coastinglove @breadedloafs @miraculous-disaster

[cobaltperun]

Lost (9) - Lost

Tara Carpenter x Female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 6.9k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-I'm lost in these memories living behind my own illusion. Lost all my dignity living inside my own confusion-

It was suffocating, the entire house, the clean, white walls let like they were closing in on you, the furniture, custom made and as huge as the ego of your parents felt like it would fall on top of you any moment now, and you were stuck there, unable to move.

You were ten and your entire world fell apart. It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair. Zack wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be dead! Your father had to be lying!

“He’s dead,” he repeated, looking like he was talking about spilled milk, and you felt sick, you felt lightheaded, your legs couldn’t hold your weight and you dropped to your hands and knees, sobbing uncontrollably, your fists clenching as your body shook. “Stop crying, Y/N,” he ordered, his tone harsh and unforgiving, and it made you flinch as you covered you mouth to stop the sobs, but you couldn’t stop the tears, they just kept falling.

Your mother grabbed your shoulders and pulled you to your feet so hard you nearly fell back. “Go to your room, your father is expecting important guests,” she ushered you to go upstairs, to be the obedient daughter. And you did just that, running up the stairs while your legs felt like they would crumble under your weight, just so you could get to your room.

Once inside you stumbled to your bed and pulled a small toy boxer from behind your pillow. Tears fell on it as you held it close. The only gift Zack gave you that you managed to keep, to smuggle into your room without your parents noticing. Anything else they took, and you never saw it again, photos, toys, books, it didn’t matter what Zack got for you, it was gone. So, aside from the toy boxer, he gave you his time, as much as he could, and he gave you the basics of martial arts, he taught them to you, he taught you discipline better than anything your parents ever signed you up for. You buried your face in the pillow, muffling your cries and screams, you were alone now, you lost your brother.

You didn’t know how long it took you to stop crying, by the time you did the Sun was getting low and you were just too exhausted to keep sobbing.

Even now, at ten years old, you felt the room you were in wasn’t who you were. It was, as your mother described it, a girl’s room, flowery and colorful, filled with clothes appropriate for your parents’ wealth and a customary violin they wanted you to learn how to play. You were meant to grow into a young lady that scoffed at anything even mildly violent, someone who relied on other people to cook and clean for you, and if you really wanted to, you would get the education needed to take over your father’s company.

That’s who you were supposed to be, but meeting Zack changed that.

And you found your passion in martial arts and the vision your parents had of you would never come true.

But, just like you took away their vision of their perfect daughter, they took the toy boxer away, taking the only remaining physical reminders of your brother away. Only allowing you to go to the funeral because you wouldn’t shut up about it. And to completely remove you from those memories they chose to move, hoping that maybe, leaving the city you spent so much time with Zack in, would made those memories fade away. At the start of 2012, two months after Zack’s death you and your parents moved to Woodsboro.

Woodsboro was a strange experience at first, a small town, with people suspicious of anyone new. You didn't care, you were still shaken by the loss, shaken by being torn from the life you had. Looking back now, there wasn't much of a life there, but to a ten-year-old you that was all you had. Especially after losing Zack.

Two weeks into your time in Woodsboro you just walked around, figuring out where what was when you noticed a tiny girl pushing a bicycle and carrying a bag. She was alone, and she seemed to be struggling. Why was a girl who didn't look older than seven all on her own with a bicycle that looked like it would be too big even for you?

The girl your parents raised would have minded your own business and avoided any attention. Zack taught you to be better than that.

"Uh, hey," you approached her awkwardly. She raised her head when she figured out you were talking to her. The first thing you noticed upon a closer look were her expressive brown eyes and freckles on her face. "Need help?"

She seemed genuinely surprised, but at the same time looked weary. You couldn't blame her, this was the first time she had seen you. "No, but thanks for offering help," she gave you a small, shy smile and walked by you.

Well, you weren't about to force her into accepting help. You offered, she didn't accept it, so you shrugged. But then she began coughing and dropped to her knees, her bicycle falling to the side as some of the content from her bag spilled out. You ran up to her since there was no one nearby to do it instead.

"Hey, are you sick or something?" you had no idea what to do, you were ten and confused and not used to situations like this one.

The girl nodded, pulling out something and taking a breath. Something that helped her breathe? "Asthma," she muttered. "I'm fine now, I'm sorry," you didn't understand why she was apologizing, but you began picking her things up. You noticed it was mostly food that was quick to make and cheap, but you didn't comment on that.

"Hey! Stay away from Tara!" health complications weren't something you were used to reacting to, but sudden fights definitely were. You jumped to your feet, grabbing the fist before it could reach your face. The girl that attacked you was a few inches taller than you, and she was definitely stronger as she pushed you back hard enough to make you stumble and fall.

"No, Sammy, she was helping," the smaller girl quickly hugged this ‘Sammy’ from behind.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't recognize you, so," she trailed off, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden.

You frowned and huffed as you got up, really not liking that she went with the 'swing first, ask questions later' approach. "Right, I'll be leaving now," you just backed away and left the two. Hopefully, you won't run into them that often, because this was not a good first impression.

~X~

Something really seemed to push you and the girl together, because it only took a week at school to see her again. Or, well, she bumped into you.

"I'm sorry! I'm late for class!" she ran off before you could even comprehend what just happened.

"Huh, her again," you mumbled to yourself and then realized what she said. "I'm late!" there was no time to think about another chance meeting.

Ever since then, there have been small encounters, seeing each other in the hall, and coming across each other on the street. Never a conversation though, you still didn't exchange names, though the girl that attacked you said 'Tara' so maybe that was the girl's name. You really liked that name for some reason. You felt like it fit the girl.

The first time you spoke it was actually December of that year. So, nearly a year went by with occasional glances here and there, simply acknowledging that the other existed. The school had this kinda awful karate class, but it was the only martial arts they had, so you went. Which was why you stayed at school after classes. It was a downpour outside, and you were not eager to leave, but, there was no telling if the rain would slow down. So, you pulled your hood over your head and stepped outside.

That was when you noticed her, trembling at the entrance, clearly not dressed for this cold, well she had a jacket on, that was too big for her, but it wasn’t much of a protection from this. She was soaked from head to toe from the rain, alone. Again.

"You'll get sick, at least get inside the school," you tilted your head to the side as you spoke to the girl. And she had asthma, and you didn’t know much about it, but you knew enough to understand getting sick especially bad for her.

She looked up. "Mom won't see me if I'm inside and she'll leave," the girl said as if it was the most obvious reason in the history of reasons.

"Since when are you waiting?" you asked, honestly hoping she also had some after-class activities because the alternative was her freezing in this rain for an hour and a half.

"Since school ended," yeah, you doubted her mother was coming. What kind of parent would make their child wait like this? At least your parents made it clear they wouldn’t pick you up from school, regardless of the weather.

You frowned, wondering if there were any alternative solutions. The school bus was long gone. You didn't know if the local bus went near the girl's house, and you didn't have a phone. "Can you walk?"

She shook her head. "I'm tired," now that you paid a bit more attention to her you figured you were wrong. She wasn't going to get sick. She already was. Her face was red, and her voice was a bit raspy. And she just spent an hour and a half standing in the rain. "Mom isn't coming, is she?" she asked, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, but she tried to stay strong. What else could she do, she was on her own, too tired to walk to her house.

"Probably not. Come on, I'll take you home," you took your bag off and turned your back to her. "Get on," when she didn't you figured she maybe couldn't climb on your back as sick as she was, so you crouched down. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"N-No, it's okay, I, I'm fine," she stammered, and you only held your umbrella out to her.

"You're light, I won't even feel you," well, you would, after some time, but you could handle it. Hey, it would be a good exercise. "I'm Y/N, in case that was weird because you didn't know my name."

You turned your head around and saw she had the same expression she had when you offered to help her when you first saw each other. Like she hasn’t experienced more than basic kindness in a long time.

"Please, I wouldn't be able to sleep well if I just left you here," you tried, offering her your hand. Reluctantly she took it and took that step closer to you. Seeing that she agreed with your idea you went back to the previous position and waited.

"Thanks. I'm Tara," she sounded really shy all of a sudden. "I'm sorry Sam pushed you before," you wondered why she still remembered that when you felt her get on your back and put her hands on your shoulders. You got up as if she wasn't even there. Just how light was this girl? Definitely too light. Even for her age. You wondered for a moment if she had proper meals. Given her mother didn’t come to pick her up you weren’t so sure she was being properly taken care of.

"Don't worry, as long as she doesn't do it again," you chuckled and handed her the umbrella. "Uh, my hands are kinda full, so if you don't mind?"

Tara nodded, taking the umbrella and opening it just as you stepped into the rain. It didn't shield you much, but it helped. "How old are you?" you figured you might as well pass some time while you were walking to Tara's house.

"I'll turn ten in a week," she said. "You?"

Ten? She was about to turn ten?! This girl? How?! She was tiny! You thought she was eight at best!

"Uh, Y/N," she squeezed your shoulder a bit.

You cleared your throat awkwardly. "Sorry, I thought you were younger. I'm eleven," you finally replied.

"Mean," oh, she definitely understood what you were implying.

"Sorry, sorry, look at it from the brighter side, if you were bigger I wouldn't be able to carry you home," you tried to cheer her up a bit.

"Yeah, that really makes up for being short," ooh, sarcasm, you liked that.

"Exactly!" you chuckled as if you thought she was serious.

Tara groaned and hid her face behind your shoulder, but you heard a tiny giggle despite the rain.

And that was the start. The actual start.

~X~

Tomorrow you didn’t see Tara in the halls, you expected as much, but yesterday she told you what class she was in so you went and asked one of the kids in her class if she came to school. That’s how you confirmed she didn’t come to school, so, without bothering to tell your parents, because they wouldn’t notice anyway, you made your way to her house.

Boldly and without a hint of hesitation you walked up to her front doors and knocked a few times. No one answered, so you tried again, and again until finally you heard someone yelling they were coming. The woman that opened the doors looked somewhat like Tara, with dark hair and eyes, but she didn’t exactly look sober.

“What do you want runt?” the woman asked, confused by your presence.

“Good afternoon. I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, I’m here to see Tara,” you went for the polite approach, not really sure what else would work.

The woman nodded. “She’s a bit sick, but sure, go upstairs, you’ll hear her,” you raised an eyebrow at that. You’ll hear Tara?

“Thank you,” you quickly thanked the woman and slipped your shoes off before going up the stairs. You did hear Tara, as the woman said you would, because she was coughing. “Shit,” you cursed under your breath. Just how sick was she? You approached the doors and knocked.

“Come in,” came raspy and confused voice.

You opened the doors and waved at the girl. “Hey, you, uh, didn’t come to school, so I figured I could drop by to check on you,” you smiled sheepishly at her astonished face, but she didn’t sit up, she was too sick.

“Y/N?” she rubbed her eyes as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“One and only,” you grinned as you approached her.

Tara giggled a bit, but that made her start coughing again.

“Easy,” you were reminded of Zack a bit before he died, and you remembered he would sleep while half-sitting up when it became too difficult to breathe. He said his body was exhausted fighting the heart issues, and because of that he easily got sick near the end of his life, only making his life even shorter. So, remembering that you went up to Tara and lifted her upper body up, much to her confusion, but it stopped her coughing for a bit while you looked around for something to prop the pillow up with. Eventually, you noticed a smaller pillow next to her and used it to lift her pillow higher. “This should help a bit, I think,” you lowered her back to the pillow and she smiled weakly.

“Thanks, it’s easier to breathe now,” she whispered and patted the spot next to her. “Stay with me for a bit?”

You nodded, and the two of you just sat there in silence, already strangely comfortable in each other’s presence. Half an hour later the doors opened again and you turned to see Sam standing there, baffled and confused.

“You’re… the one from that day? The girl I pushed? Y/N?” she asked, not sure how to react to you being there, but then she looked at Tara and visibly relaxed.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, properly I mean,” you grinned a bit and Sam just nodded.

~X~

After that the chance meetings turned into quick chats between classes or at least a high-five and a smile as you passed by one another. By the end of the month, you sometimes walked Tara home, carrying her if she was too tired and just chatting and joking on your way home. It didn’t matter your house was in the opposite direction, because you enjoyed her company way more than whatever was waiting for you at home.

Before you knew it, sometime after the holidays were over, she was tugging on your sleeve to meet a group of kids that were a bit younger than her.

“This is Y/N, my best friend!” she introduced you and you couldn’t hide your surprise. You were her best friend?

“Hey! We heard you like karate!” one of the boys, Chad greeted you cheerily.

You could work with that. “Martial arts in general, but sure I like karate as well,” you grinned, though your grin dropped when he rushed at you. You just pulled Tara to the side and let him run by you. “Uh, what were you trying to do?” you asked, chuckling uncomfortably as he tripped and fell into the snow, causing the other three kids to laugh.

“I was trying to tackle you! You like martial arts so I wanted to see if you were any good at it,” he got up and brushed the snow off his pants and jacket.

“So, don’t rushed at her like Pikachu!” the girl that looked a lot like him, his twin Mindy, from what Tara told you, teased him, causing another round of laughter.

That was how it was back then. Chad had Wes, and Mindy had Amber, so, before you came along Tara was the kid with asthma they met because Sam used to babysit them that was now in their grade because she had to repeat a year. Amber took liking to Tara and pulled her into the group, but Tara didn’t have her own best friend at the moment. So, you filled that gap. You were her best friend.

That being said, Amber was still the one who gave name to the role you played in Tara's life.

About half a year into the newfound friendship Tara invited you to go to a picnic with her and her friends. It wasn't even going to be much of a picnic since there wouldn't be anything to eat other than some snacks, but it was a chance to get out of home, so you accepted.

You joined the group at the park and high-fived Tara before waving to the other four. "Mindy, Chad, Wes, Amber," you grinned and sat down next to Tara as the four greeted you back.

The day was going the same way it usually did, usual banter, usual jokes, Amber trying to keep Tara's attention on her, Mindy teasing Wes, Chad trying to get into a joke scuffle with you and you, of course, not backing down from said competition, all the while Tara caught you up with what happened to her over the past few days.

Eventually, Chad, bored and mischievous as he was, grabbed Tara's bottle just as she was about to take it.

Tara was still tiny, and Chad didn't have to try to keep the bottle away from her. "Just say please Tara," Chad teased her by waving the bottle just out of her reach.

Tara smirked a bit. "Please, right?" she asked and Chad, now slightly confused nodded. She glanced at you, smiling as she saw you looking right at her while you lay down on the grass. "Y/N."

You couldn't help but snicker as you sat up, really impressed by how bold she got when you were with her. Chad caved in before you had the chance to get to your feet and you all shared a laugh.

Amber shook her head. "I'm telling you all, Y/N is Tara's guard dog," Amber laughed to cover it up as a joke, but there was a bit of malice behind those words.

You turned to Chad as soon as the laughter settled down. "Woof, woof?" and the six of you were once again laughing.

It became a bit of a running joke, really, that Tara only had to say your name in some situations, and you'd be right by her side. 'Tara calls and you bark,' was the original joke. The guard dog never bites though because it was always with friends. It was always small things that couldn't lead to violence. Guarding Tara from a stray ball in the park, or keeping her from falling if she tripped next to you, small things like that were why Amber began calling you the guard dog and others accepted the nickname.

And then the joke changed into 'Tara barks and you bite', because the guard dog bit. You got into a fight.

~X~

You were a couple of months away from turning fourteen and you just found out your parents chose not to help Zack. Your father wouldn't help to pay for the medicine and Susan had no way of getting enough money. She was already in debt for medical bills and couldn't even sell the house. Your father came from money, not old, old money, but his parents were rich enough to help him get very rich. To the point where he wouldn't even feel the medical bills.

He and your mother, plain and simple, didn't want to do it. 'Good riddance,' your father said. 'No son of his was a barbaric, violent no-good fighter.'

Your temper was short, you could feel anger rising within you in less time than it took to snap fingers. That's how short your fuse was. Somehow, the only exception to that anger was Tara.

Woodsboro was usually quiet, but a new Stab movie had just released, and some tourists were bound to come by. One of them got you to snap.

Tara had begged you to go see The Babadook with her when it finally came to your local cinema. So, you, of course, went with her. It was a good movie, though you probably wouldn't go to see it if it wasn't for Tara. Tara loved it though, it was her new favorite thing, and from the looks of it that wouldn't change any time soon.

"Man, that movie sucked!" someone complained as you were getting out and Tara turned around.

"No, it didn't!" she immediately argued, being with you gave Tara more confidence, the girl that was startled and timid when you met and when you finally spoke again that day in the rain was nowhere to be found. She was getting bolder, more confident in herself, and you being with her gave her that sense of safety that allowed her to act like that.

"What?" the guy that said The Babadook sucked was maybe two or three years older than you.

"It's a great movie," Tara declared boldly.

The guy laughed and was probably about to dismiss her, but then he raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you Samantha's sister? Tell your sister to get me my money for she'll know what," he suddenly got really serious and you stepped between him and Tara.

"Back off," you firmly stated.

"Yeah? Or what?" he challenged.

"Sam doesn't owe you anything," Tara said as she stepped next to you.

That, apparently made him angry. "Really now? She doesn't? So maybe you can give me my money?" he reached forward, and you just went and did it. You slammed a right uppercut into his jaw, and he fell on the ground. Security got called, he didn't want to call the police, for his own sake, and you got off with a warning from security and a year-long ban from the cinema. What a tragedy that was.

Perhaps it was because she could tell how tense you were, but that was the first time Tara held your hand as you walked to her house. It was a loose hold, but it was a hold, nonetheless.

"Sorry, I lost control there," could the guy get violent? Maybe. Would he? Perhaps. He still didn't exactly do anything that warranted a punch like that.

"It's okay, thanks for having my back there," she whispered and tightened her hold on your hand.

"Well, Amber does say I'm your guard dog," you chuckled, gradually calming down now that you were sure everything was okay. Rumors spread eventually and by the end of it, the tale of punching a slightly older guy turned into getting into a fight with two adults. Well, at least it got the message across as you officially became her guard dog that day. Don't mess with Tara.

~X~

Sam left about a year later, shortly after Tara turned thirteen, you and Tara kept spending time together, you made a deal with your parents that you’d be free once you turned eighteen, that you could leave and that you would play your role of a good daughter until then. And you did, for about three years you did just that, only breaking that deal once, a few months before you turned eighteen.

Tara came over to your place for once. You’d watch a movie in your room, eat a lunch, and then you’d do some homework together. You had an assignment about movies and Tara could easily help you with that and you would help her with some homework she was struggling with at the moment. The day was going great, until it was time to eat lunch, and since it was Sunday both of your parents were home.

You were getting better and better when it came to cooking, and today you were making a risotto for Tara and you. In a way you were lucky that Tara didn’t question why you didn’t make any for your parents as you set the two plates down.

Your father came into the kitchen to make himself a tea, it was one thing he always made for himself, because he had a very specific amount of milk he wanted added to it. And he came in with his cigar freshly lit and you saw red.

“Get out,” you warned, already getting up to open the window.

“No,” yet he refused, exhaling a long puff of smoke as he poured water into the kettle.

You didn’t want to even spare the time to argue, he knew Tara had asthma, you made it clear several times that you wouldn’t let anyone smoke near her. So, you just briskly walked over to him, grabbed the cigar before he could react, put it out and chucked it through the window.

Tara gasped, seeing the anger flash in your father’s eyes as the two of you glared at each other, you weren’t backing down.

“I told you to get out. I told you I don’t want anyone smoking near Tara,” you reminded him as he bared his teeth.

“Insolent child,” his tone was low, but you’ve learnt a long time ago that it was more of a bluff than anything, a tough act of a coward.

Tara didn’t know that. She just saw you and your father being tense, as if you would start arguing any moment now. And she got up, running up to you and pulling you back. “Y/N, please, let��s just go to your room. Or to my place, please Baby,” she tried to get you to look at her, but you just made sure she was behind you, and not between you and your father.

“Baby?” your father’s eyes widened. “Baby?!” he yelled and Tara flinched, hiding behind you and you saw red. He scared Tara. “You are going to stop associating with this girl, Y/N!” he ordered.

“I’m sorry,” Tara whispered just loud enough for you to hear and the red haze faded away, you couldn’t lose it now, it would only make things worse.

You just took her hand, squeezing it gently while glaring at your father. “Try to stop me, see what happens,” you warned, daring him to try and do anything, to raise his hand, to even try to hit you. He wasn’t stupid, by that point you’ve already spent over half your life training martial arts.

He snarled, but seeing he couldn’t intimidate you he just backed away, leaving the kitchen as the kettle whistled.

With him gone you pulled Tara into your arms and the sixteen-year-old girl clung to you as if she was afraid you’d vanish if she let go of you. You held her just as tightly before tucking a stray strand of hair back to its place. “I don’t care what he says,” you assured her gently and felt her relaxing a bit at that, but she still held onto you and you, honestly, didn’t mind. And as you held her in your arms, as her presence alone calmed you down from your anger, as you felt how wildly your heart was beating at her proximity, you realized what you should have realized some time before that, you realized you were in love with Tara.

~X~

Half a year later you had your first fight, you won, but you came back to Woodsboro a day later with bruises all over your body and several nasty swellings. Your lower lip was busted, and not just a bit. There were a few small cuts on your face, from punches and the one on your forehead nearly cost you the fight. Overall, you were in awful shape and just wanted to get into your apartment and sleep through the pain. You didn’t expect to see Tara outside your doors, chewing on her lower lip as she waited for you.

“Hey,” you spoke softly, trying to smile, but it kinda hurt to do that, so you winced instead, and Tara turned to you with an unreadable expression on her face. You could see the worry and hurt in her eyes, but you struggled to identify anything else. “You should see the other woman,” you tried to joke lamely, but she just grabbed the keys you prepared and unlocked your apartment before dragging you inside.

You figured just behaving would be your best option, so you let her silently take care of you. She placed several ice packs on you, one over your eye, the other on your hurt left wrist, and the third she just applied on whatever bruise she could see for a few minutes at a time.

“Thanks,” you eventually said as you lowered the ice pack so you could properly look at Tara.

“Please don’t fight again,” she looked like she couldn’t take it, she was shaking, and frankly you were worried her asthma might get triggered.

You never wanted to get into this position, to basically choose between the memory of Zack and Tara. To choose between the only family that ever cared for you and the girl you loved and at the end of the day that was exactly what this choice was. It was painful, and you’d forever remember the look of utter rejection and even a hint of betrayal on Tara’s face when you finally replied

But… you couldn’t give up, even if Tara asked you to. You had to give it a shot, for Zack. “I can’t, Tara. This is what I chose to do, I just love fighting too much to stop after one fight,” you could only hope that she would understand, that this decision wouldn’t cost you your friendship with Tara. Given the look in her eyes, it wouldn’t go that far, and even as she nursed you back to health, she still looked unhappy, because you chose fighting.

Because you didn’t choose her.

~X~

You were Tara’s guard dog, you were her protector, you were a skilled, almost ridiculously trained MMA fighter, but you couldn't keep her safe. Not from Amber and Richie, or their sick plan, not from the trauma, not from what she was feeling. You couldn't punch her way out of this problem. It made you feel weak and helpless, it was like an overwhelming weight you couldn't shake off, and a part of it was your fault. Because you betrayed her trust by not telling her about your troubles sooner, and now she couldn't believe you.

You glanced at Tara, knowing full well she was still awake. You were fairly certain she spent some of the night crying, but she never called out to you, and you weren't about to push her into contact she didn't want. Her pushing your arm away, even if you understood to an extent, hurt no matter how hard you tried to reason with that choice.

~X~

Tara thought everything was getting better, or as good as it could get, but it just felt like every time she felt things were about to get better something happened and made it worse. Sam was back, her mother couldn't help herself and screamed at Sam almost any chance she got. Tara's wounds healed, for the most part, her left hand was damaged beyond repair. Your heart was healthy, you were fine, you were forced to retire from MMA. It all came back to her. Sam would have left by now, or rather she wouldn't have returned in the first place if it wasn't for Tara. Her hand was self-explanatory. You would still have your career if you didn't choose to get involved with Tara.

A voice in her head kept telling her she was the one to blame. That she couldn't get her father to love her enough to stay. That she couldn't be there for Sam. That she wasn't there when you needed her. That Amber maybe wouldn't have done everything she did if Tara was a better friend and then a better girlfriend. That so many people died and maybe there was something she could have done to prevent it. That you nearly died and that she shot you and that she had no right to say anything about your mark being the only one she'll ever wear.

She curled up as much as her leg allowed her to and clenched the sides of her head, thankful that you were getting ready in the bathroom. She pulled the blanket over her head, fearing that she really pushed you too far this time. You didn't even sleep in your own bed last night. She curled the fingers of her right hand around the collar of the shirt she wore that night, your shirt.

Your apartment, your bed, your shirt, your mark around her neck. You were her safe space, yet ever since she finally had a bit of time to think about it, she ended up convincing herself she wasn't giving you anything in return. Or if she was giving you something back, it wasn't enough.

"Tara?" she didn't even notice you coming back. She wished you would just reach out and touch her, but as touchy as the two of you were you never initiated contact unless Tara saw it coming. It wasn't just since Tara was first attacked, that's how it's always been. She didn't move, she didn't want you to see her face right now.

She heard a sigh and then what sounded like you just dropping to the floor. Scared you somehow got hurt, Tara turned around and saw you sitting on the floor with your back pressed against the side of the bed. She could see how tense your muscles were even with the shirt you had on; she could see how exhausted you were.

You needed rest and Tara was convinced she was the reason you needed it. Well, of course you needed rest. You’ve been taking care of Tara while recovering from your own wounds. Sam couldn’t carry Tara, so you did it. Sam felt guilty over Tara being attacked, and had troubles looking at Tara’s wounds, and since so many years passed Tara herself wasn’t entirely comfortable about being naked in front of Sam, so… you helped her when she needed to shower or wash her hair the first two weeks. Tara’s injuries and lack of anyone else but Sam that could help her made you act as if you weren’t injured at all, you barely rested at all.

You sighed and she couldn't remember ever hearing you sigh like that, like you were just about to reach your limit. "Tara, what do you want from me?" no, you were at your limit.

Tara, unsure of what exactly to tell you now, just went with the first thing that came to mind. "The truth. I want you to be honest," she only now realized how raspy her voice was. She reached for the water bottle on the nightstand only to see you already grabbing it and handing it to her, all without turning to look at her.

Your laugh was humorless, hollow, she hated it. "Well, there's our issue right there. You'll only trust a lie," you curled up, letting your forehead rest against your knees as your arms just dropped at your sides.

For a moment Tara thought that maybe, just maybe you were honest last night. That you really were fine with retiring. But she realized MMA wasn't just something you loved. She realized you did it as a way to remember your brother. "There's no way that can be the truth," she knew how protective of her you were, how you would keep what was bothering you inside just so she wouldn't be worried.

Your reaction was instantaneous. You got up so abruptly and forcefully that Tara felt the bed hitting the wall. "Why can't you just accept that I'm fine with retiring?" you still wouldn't look at her, but you began pacing around in what little space the apartment offered. Your movement was rigid, eyes clamped shut as you ran your hand through your hair, more frustrated than Tara ever saw you before.

You were tired and frustrated. "Y/N, please," Tara wanted, needed you to calm down. She wouldn't be able to reach you if you were this frustrated.

"Y/N, please," you repeated dejectedly. "Please what exactly? Please say you aren't fine?" you finally looked at her, your jaw clenching so hard Tara was surprised you didn't crack a tooth. And the way you looked at her. Frustrated, exhausted, pleading for her to trust you.

Tara met your eyes as much as it hurt to see you like that. "You said you were fine before. You weren't." she choked out.

You turned your head to the side, blinking rapidly. "So what? Now you'll think I'm going to fall apart every time something doesn't go my way?" you asked incredulously, there was clear accusation in your eyes, anger directed right at Tara, caused by what she just said.

It wasn't that! You were strong, you weren't going to, fall apart, as you put it! She just wanted you to rely on her enough to trust her with how you felt. "It's not that!" she had no idea what she was thinking as she, without her crutches, stumbled to her feet.

You froze only for a moment and then rushed to hold her. "What are you doing?" you hissed, holding her up. You didn't lift her, but almost all her weight was on you.

Despite the warmth of your skin seeping through the shirt she was wearing she still felt cold. This wasn't the usual way you touched her, there was restraint, anger, reluctance, behind the way you held her. She hated that you felt all that and still went to hold her. That's what frightened her the most. That you'd keep doing it like this, that you'd hold her and love her despite blaming her for what was happening to you. She feared that she wasn’t good for you, and that you’d still love her anyway.

So, she made a split-second decision. "Y/N, if you really are fine," the words got stuck in her throat.

"What?" the question came out harsh, impatient, pushing the words she struggled to say out.

"Leave me."

You froze, your hold on her loosening enough for her to pull back and stumble to her crutches. This was the best option. You'd either be honest with her, or you'd continue the lie and leave. Both would be good for you, Tara figured. She's been nothing but the reason for all your pain lately. She's been that way before she was attacked. She's been that since she got together with Amber. So, this was what it was. The lost MMA career was the last drop. Your wounds healed, your time apart could be made up for, but she couldn't fix this. "I'll call Sam to pick me up," she reassured you, frankly, surprised at how shell-shocked and still you were.

You didn't say a single word and from the corner of Tara's tear-filled eye she saw you just taking a deep breath and nodding to yourself as if thinking: 'Yeah, should have seen this coming,'

You asked her what she wanted, and she told you to leave her. Those words immediately hurt her, yet it would take two days for those words to start haunting her.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

[iamthecomet]

"I wish you would write a fic where Dewdrop is keeping Aether company during a stormy night in the infirmary and maybe helps him welcome a new life on earth"

The second I saw this one I knew I needed to write it. Sorry it took me so long. 2k (I got carried away, I'm SORRY) of Dewther fluff, and slice of life intimacy. No smut, not even a hint of it. Non-graphic scene of a sibling having a very normal and healthy birth (it's pretty glossed over, but it does happen and Dew and Aeth are in the room). Dew being good in a pinch. Dew's immaculate bedside manner (not sarcasm). Aether and Dew being so fucking in love it's sickening. This one is all sweet guys, I don't know what to tell you.

Dew hasn’t left Aether’s side since the tour ended. He stepped off the bus and glued himself to the bigger ghoul. Pressing his face into Aether’s broad chest and inhaling deep. Tucking himself under his arm and letting Aether lead him back into the Abbey. Held close. 

That was a couple weeks ago. Dew isn’t quite as physically attached as he was for the first few days–but he’s still always in sight or earshot. Dragging Aether into his bed every night, wrapping himself around him. They shower together, and if they don’t–Dew isn’t far. Sitting in the adjoining bedroom with a book. One eye on the bathroom door–cracked just enough. 

Chores haven’t started back up for the band ghouls yet. They’re on a break. So Dew takes the opportunity to follow Aether everywhere. Not that Aether minds. He’s not used to having a little shadow–but it’s kind of nice. Nice to be able to turn and talk to Dew when he wants. Nice to not spend long, endless, nights in the infirmary alone and in silence anymore. The abbey feels full again. And Dew is here, and warm, and always present.

Most nights, Dew sits himself at the nurse station while Aether makes his rounds. He fucks around on his phone, or reads a book, or flirts with whatever sibling drew the short straw and got stuck with the night shift. Aether watches him as he moves from room to room. Their eyes meeting over dimly lit hallways.  Lips quirking up as they see each other. Still here. Within touching distance. 

Tonight, Dew’s alone at the nurses desk. There’s a blizzard raging outside and Aether’s usual sibling had called in sick. Probably not really sick. Just reluctant to uncurl from a nice warm bed on a very stormy night. Aether doesn’t mind. Night shifts tend to be boring anyway. Emergencies are rare, and most of their beds now are filled with humans suffering from the flu or some resperatory thing that’s been going around. Both viruses unable to make the jump from human to ghoul, so Dew, unlike the human that was supposed to be here, is safe. His bedside manner leaves a little to be desired. But Aether doesn’t really care about that. All he needs is someone to put pills in cups and measure medicine and hand him something when he’s asked. 

Dew does all of it without complaint. He’s more squeamish than Aether. Proclaiming, without any sort of filter, that he isn’t going to empty any bedpans, Aeth. That’s fucking gross.

Aether doesn’t have the heart to tell him that there aren’t any bedpans in play right now. It’s quiet now–rounds are done. Dew’s settled in behind the nurses station with a book. Booted feet propped up on the desk, leaning just a little too far back in the chair. Aether watches him–can’t help it. Eyes drawn to the way Dew’s lips move a little as he reads, the way they always do when he’s fully engrossed. 

Aether watches the little furrow appear between his brow. He’ll smooth it away with his thumb later, when he finally gets out of here and takes Dew to bed. Pulling that overwarm body against his and pressing his cool fingers to all of the places Dew finds stuck. A clenched jaw, a creased brow, tense shoulders. 

Aether stands at the end of the infirmary hallway and watches him turn page after page. He should do something else. His job isn’t to watch Dewdrop. The abbey counts on him, needs him. His work is important. But he hasn’t been able to do this for months. And Dew has been attentive ever since he got home. Always aware, always watching–the way Aether is now. Cataloging all the little things about him that he missed. 

Dew turns the page again and looks up, meeting Aether’s eyes. Aether can’t hear his chuckle for the distance and the noise of a thousand medical machines around him but he sees it, and the eyeroll that accompanies it. 

“What?” Dew asks, loud enough to be heard but still classifying as a whisper. 

“Nothing.” 

“Doesn’t look like nothing.” 

“Can’t a guy just look?” 

He expects another smartass remark, but what he gets is a little more color on Dew’s cheeks, another eye roll. Eyes darting back down into the book to avoid really looking at Aether–to avoid having to admit that he likes it when Aether looks. 

Aether turns back to his job–spell not broken just interrupted. He stands in front of the big window that overlooks the wide back yard of the abbey and looks out as he counts pills into paper cups labeled with names and times.  The hill that slopes down to the lake. The forest at the far edge. If it was light out he’d be able to see the ridge of Mountain’s favorite greenhouse, and the maze even further off. As it is–all he sees is white. The snow falling in big fluffy flakes–faster than seems possible. Piling high on the grass. Burying the abbey under a blanket of white they won’t be free of until late spring. 

Their easy calm is broken when the infirmary door slams open. Two harried looking siblings burst in, one of them heavily pregnant. There’s sweat beading on her forehead–her habit gone, or forgotten. Auburn hair sticking to her skin in damp clumps. The other sibling holds onto her, supports her weight as best they can as they rush into the infirmary and right up to the nurses desk and a stunned Dewdrop. 

Dew puts his book down. “Uh–Aeth?” 

Aether is already there, coming up behind them to slot against the sister’s other side. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes wild and pain filled. He knows this sister–she’s been coming to him for all of her check-ups throughout her pregnancy, no issues, entirely healthy. And, Aether calculates a week early. Nothing to worry about. He puts his hand on the small of her back. 

“How far apart, Isla?”

“Five minutes just like you said,” Isla winces as another contraction hits and she bares down on the nurses station. Dew looks ready to flee. Eyes darting between Aether and the two siblings. 

“Good,” Aether says, calm, low. He pulls Isla and her friend away from the nurses desk and leads them into a room just off of it–empty and freshly cleaned. He gives Isla instructions to change into a hospital gown, and leaves her in her friend’s capable hands while he darts back into the main lobby. Dew’s got his book in his hand again–and his coat slung over his arm. 

“I’ll be in my room when you’re done–”

“I need your help,” Aether says without argument. Gathering things he needs from the nurses station by the arm full. He’s delivered plenty of babies alone–but it’s ill advised. And Dew is right here–he’s not getting out of this. 

“Oh hell no, this is way above my pay grade.” 

“There is no pay grade. Put on some gloves and help me,” Aether pauses, fully looks at Dew. There’s fear in his dilated pupils, in the rushed shallow breaths expanding his chest. Aether pins him with his gaze–allows himself this moment. “Please.” 

Dew sighs, he grimaces. Uncomfortable but unable to say no to Aether–not when he really does need him. He tosses his book down on the desk. “Promise I’m not going to like, accidentally kill a baby or something?” 

“You will not be going anywhere near any babies.” Aether promises, and Dew groans, but snaps on a pair of gloves and follows Aether into the room. Trailing behind him nervously. Isla is on the bed when they get there. Her friend, who introduces themself as Rae, standing up by her head. Their hand carding over Isla’s forehead, brushing sweaty hair away from her temples. Their fingers are laced together. 

Aether talks them through everything he does. Every touch, every movement. It’s as for Isla and Rae as it is for Dew who is still radiationg panic despite having pulled himself together enough that the humans in the room don’t notice. 

Dew, contrary to his own beliefs about hismelf, is good under pressure. Aether won’t tell him this–not yet anyway–but there is no one else he’d rather have with him. Not even the siblings who have training are as level-headed as he is when he needs to be. 

When Aether asks for something, it’s in his hand before the word is all the way out of his mouth. Dew’s warm fingers brushing his. 

As most birth’s go–it’s an arduous process. The snow piles up outside. Isla’s contractions get closer and closer together. Hours pass. Dew gets his shit together. He follows Aether’s orders. Not nearly as squeamish as he pretends to be. Keeping a close eye on Isla’s process as Aether flits around for IV’s and blood pressure machines, and a thousand other things. 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Isla says late in the game–minutes before Aether is going to tell her to start pushing. He’s exhausted his back hurts. Rae consoles her, pets her hair and tells her that of course she can. She shakes her head, vehement. 

“No. I can’t. I can’t be a mom. What am I doing?” 

Aether opens his mouth, not sure what’s going to come out, trying to find the right words despite his exhaustion. Dew places a warm hand on Isla’s knee and cuts him off. 

“Sure you can,” Dew says, soft, sure. “You’re doing this. This is fucking brutal. Being a mom can’t be worse than this.” 

And though Aether knows that isn’t true–Dew probably does too–it seems to take some of the edge off. Maybe just from the surprise of Dew actually butting in. But Isla looks at him, pain morphing her face, she laughs, bitter and relieved at the same time. 

“Yeah. This does suck a lot.” 

“See,” Dew squeezes her knee. “Just a few more minutes and this part will be over and then it’s the good part. You’ve got this. No backing out now.” 

Aether doesn’t know where those words come from. Dew who hates all children–ghoul and human alike. Who a few hours ago was about to tuck tail and run–to be out of Aether’s sight line for the first time in weeks just because this was about to happen near him. Saying shit like this? Encouragement? Enthusiasm. 

Determination settles over Isla’s face, she nods at Dew once. Sharp. And then turns her eyes to Aether. “I’m ready to get to the good part.” 

It’s quick after that. And before long Aether is handing Isla a screaming baby. It’s another hour before he can take a small break. The baby cleaned and swaddled, snuggled up with it’s mother. Rae resting fitfully in the chair while Isla stares at her baby. Aether leaves them to it and walks out into the lobby to find the sun rising. Pink hues casting over the floor. Blizzard over. The world outside the windows snow bright and fresh. He finds Dew at the nurses station, book in hand again, nose firmly in it. Brow creased. 

Aether kisses him right between where his horns would be and Dew looks up and over at him. Looking exhausted. Eyes fighting to stay open.

 “Hey,” he rasps, saving his place in the book and setting it on the desk. Aether brushes an errand strand of hair behind Dew’s ear. 

“Go back to your room. I’ll meet you there as soon as I switch with Omega.” 

Dew shakes his head. He leans his head against Aether’s bicep. “I’m good. I’ll wait.” 

“You’re going to have to detach from me at some point you know?” 

“Yeah. But not yet,” Dew shrugs. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” 

“Leech.” 

“Mmhm,” Dew nods. Eyes fluttering as he leans into Aether’s body. They’re quiet for a moment, the quiet only broken by a ragged cough from a room down the hall. 

“Thanks for staying–for helping,” Aether says softly. “I know that isn’t your thing but you really–”

“It wasn’t that bad.” 

“You going to tell me where all that sappy shit in there came from?” Aether teases, then sobers. “You were incredible, really.” 

Dew tips his head and opens his eyes, looking up at Aether with adoration that threatens to knock the breath from his lungs. He shrugs. “I mean. Just kind of thought of it like tour. Get the hard part over with. Get to the good part.” 

“This is the good part?” Aether cocks an eyebrow.  “You’re the good part.”

[piarelei]

Touch starved

AU where the Navy cares about mental health but in the most annoying way possible.

The Program had Jake noted down as recalcitrant. He couldn’t deny the truth of it. 

In his early career, he would have never believed that the Navy could one day so strongly advocate for mental health. The Program’s agent was staring placidly at him from the other side of his kitchen table, his file between her manicured hands. She was someone who was used to scrutiny and did it in turn without an ounce of shame. 

“I’m afraid we will have to see improvement or the Program will have to ground you. Temporarily, of course.” 

Jake looked away. He had to swallow his first impulse. He was not suited to begging. “I’ve never been a great sleeper, you know. That has nothing to do with the job.” 

She smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. “You understand that we cannot allow access to such expensive and destructive weapons to someone who is already under duress.” 

Jake clenched his teeth. There was no point in arguing, but it didn’t stop him from trying. “Part of the job is being under duress. I’ve always known how to deal.” 

“We are doing things differently now.” She looked down at the file in her hands. “Well, I see that at least you have been regular with the monitor, despite a rocky start. This is good.”

Jake had to do his best not to sneer. 

“Now, you have refused therapy, counsel, journaling, meditation and yoga classes, art and animal therapy, and a number of other things. If I listed them all we would be here for hours. No point in losing time.” 

Jake crossed his arms and lifted his chin, defiant. 

“I suggest that our next step is assigning you to buddy,” she continued on, placidly. She lifted a hand when he opened his mouth to talk. “Actually, before you answer, I have to let you know that if you refuse, I won’t be able to keep you in the air any longer. We need to see that you are willing to put in the work.” 

He swallowed. “What if I get therapy now?” 

She smiled again, lipstick-stained mouth thinning into some disingenuous. “That would be a step in the right direction. But I’m afraid we need more from you this time. We want someone to monitor you closely in your journey.” 

Sweat gathered in his palms. Him, who so proudly claimed to be able to withstand anything, anxious at the idea of a stranger embedded in his intimacy. 

“We have already found a volunteer to help you. He’s a familiar face, it shouldn’t be too hard for you both to be roommates. There’s a car waiting for you outside, you can pack and it’ll drive you to your new home for the next few weeks.” 

Jake had the strongest urge to simply book it out of here, forget about his entire life rooted in the Navy and start anew. Maybe in Europe. 

She stood up, gathering her things, straightening her uniform. “I do hope that we do not have to see each other again, Lieutenant. Best of luck.” 

He nodded but did not offer any parting words. 

#

Bradley Bradshaw was waiting for him on the stoop of their new abode. Jake almost swore up a storm at his sight, but waited until the car had disappeared from view to do so. 

“Nice to see you too, Hangman,” Bradshaw offered with a new slump to his shoulders, leaning back against the railing. 

“What, surprised?” Jake asked, already feeling too tight in his own skin. “Weren’t you briefed?” 

“Well, nobody gave me your name, you know that damn well. I honestly didn’t think of you when they gave me your case.” 

“Oh yeah? Too neurotic to make you think of me?”

Rooster shrugged. “Probably should have, honestly. Recalcitrant. Individualist. Anxious about low stress situations. Insomniac.” Bradshaw reached out a hand to touch Jake’s shoulder, light as a feather. “Touch starved.” 

Jake swatted his hand away. “Fuck off. Nothing that getting laid cannot resolve.” 

Rooster made a face. “I don’t think that’s how it works.” 

“Sure does. Now, are you getting ready to go out or do I have the pleasure of my own company?”

“I don’t really have a choice now, do I?” 

“You’re the one who volunteered.” 

#

The club Jake elected as his hunting ground for the night was packed to the brim. Bradshaw gave him a wild-eyed look as they passed the door and tried to reach for him before Jake slinked away. He did not bother to see if Rooster could follow. 

The bodies pressed against him, warm and sweaty, and it was almost good. Jake pulled himself into the frenzy of writhing people, barely listening to the music, only reacting to the foreign touches of strangers all around him. He let hands guide his hips and lips find his neck, before they lost interest and turned around. Manicured nails racked through his hair. A large arm pulled him tight and let him go almost just as fast. 

Jake was soaking it all up. He did not linger on the brevity of touches because it had always been inevitable. Jake was not to be kept. He was mostly fine with that. 

But then, there were hands at his shoulders and the off-beat sway of a large body, a palm cupping his head to let it rest against a collarbone and Bradshaw was burning to the touch, as comforting as a campfire in a silent forest. 

They stayed together for a long moment, coming to a standstill by the second song and completely immobile by the third. Jake’s hands were shaking. His heart was cradled in his chest, steady. The knot in his stomach was gone, but was fighting to come back, lingering at the edges of his consciousness. 

“Come on,” said Bradshaw, “let’s go home.” 

#

Bradshaw put him into bed and Jake was too ashamed to even speak. Now that Bradshaw was a careful two feet away, he could not believe that he had been tamed by a hug. 

He stared hotly at the ceiling, until Rooster’s monstrous hand gently covered his eyes, lashes fluttering against his palm. 

“Sleep,” he instructed. 

Jake tried to disobey, but Rooster stayed seated by his side until he gave in. He slept.

I don't know if I have energy for more of this AU (I always say that lmao). Give it some love with a reblog !

[destielbeatlesminibang]

Masterlist!

And that's a wrap! Many thanks to all the writers, artists and betas who contributed to the first Destiel Beatles Minibang!

If you haven't had a chance, you can check out all the incredible works below!

The Long and Winding Road (Explicit), written by FriendofCarlotta with art by Gemma

1970: Sixteen years have passed since Dean and Castiel parted ways — separated after years of loving each other quietly and secretly at the boarding school they both attended.

Life took them along two very different paths, with Dean drifting across the country for years while Castiel launched a career in academia at Princeton. But now, a twist of fate is set to reunite them: as teachers at the same school where it all began.

Will they be able to find their way back to each other, or is it too late to start all over again?

When My Mind Is Wandering (There I Will Go) (Teen and Up), written by rachelindeed with art by hawkland Finale fix-it: In order to save Dean’s life, Cas has to temporarily take him as a vessel. While Dean’s body heals, they decide to explore what a life outside of hunting could look like. On a volunteer trip a few towns over, they are reminded of the beauty of community. And as Cas’s thoughts mix with his own, Dean learns how freeing it can be to see himself through the eyes of someone who loves him.

While My Guitar Gently Weeps (Teen and Up), written by eyesofatragedy67 with art by witchy-worm

Cas’s deal with the Empty broke Dean’s heart. And no matter what they tried, they couldn’t get him out.

They did manage to take care of Chuck, though, and with him out of the picture, Dean finally hung up his gear and built a life for himself. Or whatever passes for life when the one person you want to share it with most is out of reach.

But Dean’s got his bar, Charlie at his side, and his guitar to keep him company on the nights memories pull him under.

And he hopes against hope that someday Cas will return to him.

Anna, Go to Him (Teen and Up), written by butterflyslinky with art by golby-moon

Dean arrives at a new (but hopefully last) high school, where he meets overachiever Anna. There may be something going on there…if only she would stop talking up this guy called Cas.

Close Your Eyes and I'll Kiss You (Teen and Up), written by tfw_cas with art by golby-moon

Dean Winchester has been secretly in love with his college roommate and best friend Cas for years, but he’s convinced Cas doesn’t feel the same.

When he’s offered a teaching position thousands of miles away, he sees it as an opportunity to be closer to his brother… and maybe give himself some distance from his feelings for Cas. After all, it’s not like they can’t still be friends.

But things go badly when Cas finds out, and Dean’s not sure their friendship is going to survive. And as for his dreams coming true… Well, those are just lyrics, right?

In Matters of Faith (Teen and Up), written by celestial_starlight with art by witchy-worm

After Sam and Dean burn Cas’s body, Dean walks. He leaves Sam with a devil baby he can barely stand to look at and rents a cabin near the field where he spread Cas’s ashes. He prays to Cas day and night, desperate for his faith to mean something. His calls wake Cas and bring him right back to Dean’s doorstep. Dean takes him home, struggling to sort out a rollercoaster of feelings while the three of them figure out how to raise a nephilim child.

Love You With All My Heart (Explicit), written by samanddean76 with art by hexentaenzarin

Dean is an up-and-coming musician, who along with his brother Sam, has finally started to make waves with their band, The Quarrymen. Little does he know that the perfectly innocent Omega sitting in the front row of The Cavern Club, watching him perform with an enchanting smile, is the True Mate he has been longing for his entire life.

Castiel can hardly believe his luck, when he and Gabriel are invited backstage after the show. Once Gabriel slips away with Sam, Castiel is left alone with the incredibly handsome Alpha who spent the entire show singing every single song to him. But the club is raided before they can cement their bond, and Castiel is forced to flee into the night.

Whisked away by an overprotective mother, Castiel doesn’t know if he will ever see Dean again. He seeks solace in writing his poems, and fervently wishes that one day he will be reunited with the man he loves, not knowing that destiny and fate are working to bring the separated mates back together.

Lucy In the Tank With Morons (Explicit), written by queerwerewolf with art by TwinOne

Dean Winchester, a premiere shark biologist at the Georgia Aquarium, who works with their three tiger sharks, never ever expected to find himself enamored with a newly acquired giant Pacific octopus, and more importantly, her exceedingly handsome blue-eyed handler. In a little hide-away beneath the waves, Dean will fall in love in an octopus’s garden.

[leafryoworks]

I'm going to tell you what your favourite character in the amazing digital carnival says about you .

Please note that this isn't serious and I'm just want this to be silly . I might overdone in a few segments . Carnival au belongs to @sm-baby .

Caine : Autistic creature . You're probably afraid of being underachieved by people younger than you and you try so hard to not let it show . You tend to crave company but your differences also make you a tad left out by others . Still you got a special skill that you're sure only you have ! ...right ? Don't worry because while it may seem dark right know , the sun will come up and maybe the friends you need will come and find you .

Pomni : The most girlfailure . You tend to try to have your sh-uhm , responsibilities and thoughts pulled together to be a functioning adult but not all things probably pulled off succesfully . Still it's the thought that matters and the worst thing you could do is not try at all . Do that thing you wanted , you never know what might happen .

Queenie : You got underlying mommy issues . She gives you the classic wine aunt you never get to experience . There are things that you couldn't control , you might say it collars you down to your place . But...remember the loved ones by your side . They may not be able to offer the freedom you seek and...they may not be the best people they are right know but the worst thing you could do is abandon the ones that cared about you .

Kinger : Silly and a bit kooky . Trauma changes who you are and there are moments you're not at the best headspace . You probably seek entertainment to lose your sense of reality and not face the sadness and tragedy knowing it would rock your world in the worst case . You need someone to hold your hand , to give you company...eventhough you know subconciously that it's not real .

Jax : The artist who lost his motivation . You're a bit curious on how things tend to work and likes seeing the colour red on paper . The reason I only draw something so violent on paper was to let my anger out and you know what I'm trying to say connecting to this segment . And yet we all know that anger is just overwhelming sadness that you don't know how to let out . We all got problems and things that aren't aligned with others regarding in coping mechanisms . And yet...eventhough you might say you don't need them , who are you lying to ?

Ragatha : Mommy issues ! Abandoment issues ! You can't florish under pressure and negativety or else your heart will ached and cause you to not breathe . That's why you try to make things more easier for others so when they're happy , you're happy . If they're sad , you're sad . Literally . You hold on to your beliefs because no way you're wrong eventhough the evidence is right infront of you ! You live to serve for others because if you have no worth , why...did they kept you around ?...sorry , I got overprojecting , hah . The least you could do is actually let people have their say eventhough it's sad . Bottled up emotions are not healthy and might ruin you and the people you care in a long run . There are things you gotta accept eventhough it might go against on your beliefs . You can't control things in a happy get going situation , this ain't a tv show you can script 24/7 .

Gangle : Maladaptive dreamer . You don't know what's real and what's not fake . The people , the friends you make , are they real ? Your family even ? It's blurry as you toed the line and you find it hard to believe that they are real people you interact with eventhough you know it's true . Sometimes you could be doing work and panicked realizing you're in the real world and not in the world you made up in your head . You rather live your live in ecstasy while dreading the reality that awaits you outside . But enough of that , you got your blorbos in your head to keep your company because they're real ! ...but in your head or is there more...?

Zooble : The cool protector . You tend to protect those who are high up in your list and would be the one nodding your head sagely as your bestfriend rambles about their crush . You care about people just not overcaring to Ragatha's extent . People think you're cool and you probably are . And there are things , secrets that you have to hide of a friend from your other friends because...you know it's the best for their situation . Somethings have to be kept under high security for the best of your friends . You know it's for their best of them and you have to carry the burden to keep the people you care safe . That's your job .

Able : Charmer . You worked so hard to learn and understand your loved one's interests and going as far to be an expert on it . Surely when you are a master of it then you guys can talk and hang out more . What's wrong with that ? You just want to understand them a bit more closer but if that's not working then there must be something wrong . Maybe you're not trying enough so you would try harder . Time to hit the books ! There's nothing wrong with you , don't let the voices in your head fool you !

Bubble : He's so silly ! He reminds you of a pet you wanna pampare and put in a play pen .

Kaufmo : You chose the funniest guy in the cast , huh ? Excellent choice . You like jokes , bad ones even told by others because it means they have thought of cheering people up and that really touched your heart . You tend to be silenced eventhough you are right and yet sometimes they don't wanna listen . The other half is that they do listen , they just don't care . Eventhough the world may not look at it's prime for a moment , you knew you have to keep trying to make the best of it eventhough your attempts may not succeed . But it's better trying than not even trying at all , right ?

Alright people , that's a wrap ! Sorry if it may offend some of you so just letting you guys know it's not 100% accurate , okay ? Okay .

[euphreana]

The Shape of Truth - Chapter 13: Reality

Masterpost

-

Ambrosius was in no shape to walk. The window glass had been sharp, and a jagged edge sticking from the frame had gouged his leg when he’d jumped to freedom. The hospital’s drugs had numbed it out too much for Ambrosius to realize it though - it had been Nimona who’d noticed the blood dripping down his calf after coming to a landing in an alley several blocks from the hospital.

“Ohhhhh shit.” Nimona mumbled as Ambrosius clumsily tore his shirt into shreds and tried to staunch the bleeding. “That’s going to need stitches.”

Ambrosius shook his head.

“I’ll be fine. Just get us out of here.” He tied a piece of his shirt tightly under his knee. The wound below just kept bleeding. Ambrosius focused on the wound with his mind. If this was a dream, he should be able to stop the bleeding himself. Right?

He focused until he felt Nimona tap his shoulder.

“Hey?” She tried to get his attention, “We need to keep moving.”

The wound kept bleeding. Ambrosius began to wonder if this wasn’t a dream at all.

Nimona shifted into what Ambrosius could only assume was her, but ten years older, taller, and stronger. She hefted him onto her back and carried him through a maze of alleys and maintenance tunnels until they’d gotten out of the city and arrived at what looked like an old repair garage. It wasn’t much - just a single stone room with old workshop equipment in it. It did have a kitchen and a musty old couch Ambrosius could rest on though, and right now that was what was important.

“This place is safe.” Nimona said, dropping him onto the couch, “I’ve hidden out here a few times and no one ever noticed. We can hide out here as long as we need.” She glanced at the blood-soaked fabric wrapped around his leg. “I’ll go get supplies. Wait here. Try not to move too much.” And with that, she was gone.

Ambrosius sprawled on the couch, a million thoughts still swirling in his mind. Was this a dream? It didn’t feel like it. His head was finally starting to clear for the first time in a week, and he still didn't know what was real.

He held his right hand in front of his face. He tried pushing his left finger through his palm - a method he’d heard of before to tell if you were dreaming. His finger remained firmly outside his hand.

He looked up. There was writing on a tarp stretched across the ceiling above him - not garbled text like dreams had, but full words spelling out the name of the manufacturing company.

He closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself rising off the couch - something he’d done in dreams before. Nothing happened.

It was real; Nimona, the hospital escape, The Director’s guilt in framing Ballister… it was all real.

Ambrosius felt himself go limp, realizing the implications of the revelation. He was a fugitive. There was no other way to put it. He had no way of knowing who was in on The Director’s coverup and who was simply mistaken, and he didn’t have any friends he could trust. There was no one to turn to, nowhere to go. Anyone in their right mind would turn him in - not only had he attacked the head of state, but worse, he’d sided with Nimona, whom The Director had declared a monster.

A monster… Ambrosius couldn’t believe he hadn’t made the connection before. Leave out the bloodthirsty part and she fit the bill perfectly; an inhuman creature wanting to destroy society. Maybe the bloodthirsty part would come later. And now he was friends with it. Him. Gloreth’s child. Even if he could prove The Director had killed the queen, his reputation as a light for the kingdom had been tarnished.

Disappointed. He was so disappointed in himself. Things hadn't needed to go like this. He could have put Ballister’s sword back in the drawer and presented his evidence to someone else once he’d calmed down. He could have kept his wild tales to himself in therapy. He could have saved Ballister…

Ambrosius spent the next two hours agonizing over what-ifs and how he could have possibly done thing better. Finally, he pushed himself off the couch and limped to the kitchen for something to eat. If Nimona had stayed here before, there might be something left...

He caught a glimpse of his reflection in a shuttered window en route. He looked horrible. His hair was gone, the medication he’d been forced to take had made him lose weight and muscle, and there were dark patches under his eyes from stress. He was reminded of the prisoner from the movie Nimona had shown him; gaunt and dead inside.

There was a sound of someone kicking the front door. Ambrosius tensed.

“It’s me.” Nimona’s voice came. “My hands are full.”

Ambrosius limped to the door and opened it. Sure enough, Nimona was laden with supplies; bags hanging from her arms and slung over her back. Her hands held two cardboard cups.

“I forgot to ask for a tray.” She laughed as she entered, pushing one of the cups into Ambrosius’s hands. “I didn’t know what you’d want, so I got the stuff from before - Earl Grey, cream & sugar, or something like that. Right?”

It was supposed to be milk, not cream, but that didn’t matter. Ambrosius took a long drink.

“Exactly.” He said quietly, a slight smile spreading across his face.

Nimona unloaded supplies into the kitchen cabinets.

“So. I heard you attacked The Director. That’s pretty metal if you ask me.”

Ambrosius sat back down on the couch.

“She killed the queen.”

“Woah, WHAT?!”

Ambrosius told her about the sword and the paper with the email and password.

Nimona grinned.

“Look at you go, mister detective.” She closed a cabinet. “So we just need to get our evidence together so we can post it online, right?”

“There is no evidence.”

“Come again?”

“The invoice disappeared when they sent me to the psych ward. Probably trashed. The paper with the email is probably gone. And I never gave my email address to Meredith so she could forward me her copy of the emails. I’m not even sure if she’s alive anymore…”

Nimona put the last of the supplies away.

“So… what do we do now?”

“I don’t know… we should probably wait for things to die down at least. This little monster hideout looks like it could hold for a while.”

Nimona suddenly looked sullen. Ambrosius didn’t notice. He leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. The kingdom would probably be best off if he did nothing. The Director was a good authority figure, murderer or not. There was no public unrest, and life for everyone was going smoothly. Exposing The Director could upset all that. He didn’t want to be a fugitive for the rest of his life though…

Something large landed on his lap with a muffled ‘whump’.

“I got you clothes.” Nimona said from across the room.

Ambrosius took a look at the duffel bag on his lap.

“Are these… from my dorm?”

“I hope so. Otherwise I raided someone else’s room.”

Ambrosius gave a slight smile and pulled a shirt from the bag. It was one of his.

“How’d you carry this all out of there?”

“You know that guy who told you to take the day off?”

“Ironwill?”

“Yeah. Apparently he can go wherever he wants without people asking questions.”

That made sense. Ambrosius pulled the shirt over his head.

“Those monster powers do come in handy.”

“Don’t use that word for me.” Nimona snapped. When Ambrosius looked, she was staring daggers at him.

“What? Mon—”

“DON’T.”

“But… what else are you?”

“I’m Nimona.”

“Yeah but…” Ambrosius backpedaled, still trying to rationalize his choices, “It’s ok - you’re a good monster, right?”

Nimona was suddenly in front of him, fists clenched.

“Think about that word you’re using. Really think.”

“It’s just a word.”

“No. It’s this entire place. It’s The Director and the wall and Gl—” her voice broke and she turned away. A moment later, she was a fox running outside through an open window.

“Nimona!” Ambrosius limped to the window as fast as he could. “Nimona I’m sorry! I won’t say it again!”

Only the whistle of the wind answered him.

Next

[wubwubwubtastic]

Hhgggahahhhhh

Would y'all read a Parsley Botch x Reader fic if I posted it???

It's been sitting in my docs for a while, and I wanna know if y'all would be interested in this w.i.p

A little snippet here, a little more under the cut

________________________________________

You should've probably gone to a mental hospital instead of the Habitat.

You've been saying that to yourself for the past week, like a mantra of sorts. The place was nice and all, albeit a little uncanny. It was homely? Nice? Comforting- no, actually, it made you just more anxious.

The Habitat was a cage, let's say. You were an animal in it, enjoying being trapped, yet not experiencing the outside. Because you got comfortable in that cage, and why should you go out of your comfort zone when you're fed and warm?

Call it depression. Call it being desperate to be taken care of even in a small way. Honestly, it didn't matter. Because you didn't belong here.

All the people here were sad, going through a break up, feeling like they aren't themselves. But at the end of the day, all of them seemed fine and normal. You're sure that once they'd be out of here, they'd be able to function normally.

It's selfish to envy people you don't even know the struggles of.

The other 'Habiticans', as you were called, hung out in clumps outside their rooms, socializing. They talked and talked, enjoying the company of their peers, and they found people to connect with.

You wish you could do that.

It's not easy for you, it never was. Even as a child you were othered, weird kidiefied. You really hoped that moving to a town, where no one knew who you were before your transition, would help.

It did to an extent, but you still didn't feel alright. These people knew each other, they had groups and cliques. It was a warm, welcoming neighborhood, alive and flourishing. But you were alone.

Maybe, you wondered, as you shifted in your bed, if you got out of the room and actually went to talk to someone it'd help?

Naive idea, whenever you did that you just stood around for a bit, and then staggered off back into your room. It was pathetic, pitiful even, but what else were you meant to do?

With that train of thought, you lifted yourself off of the bed. The tattered shirt you've been using as pajamas for the past five days, was starting to smell. All the clothes you had on had been soaked with sweat, even if you only laid about in your bed, riding through bouts of depression you hoped the Habitat would get rid of.

You wondered if the Habitat had a washing machine as you threw on a random shirt and some pants. Giving yourself a quick look in the mirror before you leave, you don't look as disheveled as you feel- oh, and you're dressed like a twelve year old boy, great.

You ignore it for now, instead focusing on the door. Nice, cheap wood, mhm, probably oak. Just turn the handle, and- there! You're out. Oh god.

Trying to fight the rising panic and discomfort, breathing deeply and keeping your eyes firmly on the floor, you start navigating the place. Just get to the staircase, hold the railing, don't fall down the OSHA violation. Okay, easy, breathe.

While you're lost in thought, you accidentally bump into someone.

"Yo! Sorry dude, I didn't see you thereee," Oh god, it's the hippie. "Ha, you're from room 13, right? I haven't seen you around much," What was his name, Daniel? No- Dell? Dallas! That's it.

You're broken out of your thoughts as Dallas (you think), speaks again. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he chuckles a little, and you feel the burn of embarrassment within your bones, as you realize you hadn't said a single word.

"haa- yeah, sorry, I've got to go now- um-" you fumble your way around the taller man, heading for the stairs. "It was nice? Meeting you!- we gotta talk later-" You whisper a thank you to whatever god exists under your breath as you finally touch the railing of the stairs, "bye!-"

As you scuttle down the stairs, with your footwear hitting each step, the realization that you have slippers on hits you. You forgot to put on proper shoes. Fuck, you'll have to clean these later, cause you're not going back up and risk another awkward encounter with Dallas. But won't people think you're weird for wearing fluffy slippers outside? You can't win can you, ugh.

The end of the stairs is nearing, and you try your best to not trip on the last step. Finally down, you can breathe a sigh of relief. Where do you go now? You hadn't thought this through properly. You didn't know how to get into the lounge, it had to do something with knocking, but you didn't remember how. The gates to the carnival were open- you could have gone to the roof, FUCK.

The roof was the chillest place as far as you knew, you saw a lot from that height. But now that you're down here? Stuck with the carnival I guess. Rubbing your eyes with a long sigh, you set off with a swagger- no, a sway, not the cool one. Sway like a twig about to break off of a branch. Yeah, like that.

Ah, the gate is in sight, red and full of it's…glory? Now you just have to pass the Blorbo clown guy. Bongo? Honestly it doesn't matter. You make it out to seem harder than it is, cause the objective is just to get from point S to point C. Like stairwell and carnival, you know?- no, nevermind.

Finishing with your pondering, the scenery of the carnival encases your view. Oh, you're here already, and now you've just randomly stopped. Oh look, burning tires! That's interesting, yes we're going to examine that, yes…

You scoot over to the flame, it dancing with the wind. It was kinda nice actually, pleasantly warm, mesmerizing to watch. You felt at peace for a bit, well, less anxious and weird more so. It was still nice nevertheless. But just as you feel content setting in, a scratchy voice wakes you up.

"Hey! I'd be careful with that, a strange child has been throwing unsafe things into the fire!"

You turn around to face the owner of the voice, looking like a deer in the headlights. He was dressed in a dark suit, with messy, reddish hair and a latte-like complexion.

"I'd advise staying away, the fumes might be poisonousss-" He cut himself off, pausing, and looking at you with concern. "are you okay?"

You look up, dang, he is tall. "I uh- yeah!" You struggle to find any more complex words, opting to nod instead. The man, who's name you remember was Basil Scotch or something, nodded, clearly not really buying it.

"You look kale-" He grumbles a bit, "Sorry, you look pale."

He sighed, straightening up. A sort of code activating within him.

"Parsley Botch, lawyer." He offered his hand for you to shake, long fingers and veins, kinda creepy. When you shook it, you couldn't tell who's hand was sweatier.

"It's nice to meet you!-" you mumble out, drying your hand off on your pants. Observing the man in front of you a bit more. He was tall, lanky, yet the suit gave him some extra weight. Parsley's eyes were tired, exhausted. Hair a mess, and incredibly sweaty.

He looked…. malnourished.

Your trailing eyes didn't go unnoticed however.

"So, what brings you here?"

That perks you up, making you think. You try to play it cool, in a philosophical way.

"Why are any of us here?"

You ask, the poet you are.

Parsley thinks for a moment, looking at you with a little bit of a weird look. But nothing too bad, you weren't spiraling yet!

"I meant why you came down here,"

He clears up, seeing the little bulb on your head light up. Oh. Now here's the dilemma! Tell this stranger the truth, or lie? Very hard, very hard!

"I was…" you bite your lip, raking your head for something to say. In the end, with Parsley's eyes trained on you like a dogs on a rabbit, you caved.

"I was lonely."

You wilt a little as you say that, looking to the floor. Now he's gonna think you're weird if he didn't before, way to fuck it up buckaroo.

Parsley sighed, nodding to himself.

"I get it,"

You look up at him, he looked.. sympathetic? A tiny smile on his face, trying to look less scary.

“I came here to get away from all the lawyering, and businessesing and-” his words are cut off with a concerning yelp, you jump as if you just got hit.

“OW MY STOMACH-”

He grasps his middle, bending like one of those bendy rulers.

“OW-”

You jump into action, a little hesitant. Yet the words you say slide outta you almost automatically.

“HOLY SHIT- are you okay dude??”

Your hand comes up to grab his shoulder, shocked by the sudden exclamation.

He groans, sucking a deep breath through his teeth. Parsley straightens up, still holding his stomach as if you just punched him.

“I'm- I'm fine-” he shook his head, voice weak and shakey, “I just haven't had a ‘proper’ meal in a while..”

He trails off, longingly looking in the direction of the lounge. It was clear what he was thinking. You yourself also avoided the place, too many people, too chatty of a barman. The fact you forgot the secret code had nothing! To do with it.

It seemed you could agree on something.

Your voice breaks you out of your thoughts, realizing what you were saying. And that you were even speaking.

“I've got some snacks in my room..”

It sounds more like a question rather than an offer, but the implications are clear, Parsley seems to ponder it a bit. Humming, he looks your disheveled form over once more, and nods.

“Better than nothing,”

________________________________________

[houdinicorbini]

Hi! Can I request monty x fem!reader where she is a night guard and finds monty (after Gregory defeats him) crawling around and she helps him and fixes him up? Thanks!

Sure! This is actually good timing because I wanted to get myself out there with security breach!

So thanks!

Also, I will say for this that when the animatronics get destroyed by Gregory, whatever mind control thing they are under leaves

Trigger warnings: Monty getting destroyed, mind control, slight cursing

"Hey! Little guy!" Monty yelled as he once more caught sight of the lost child roaming the pizzaplex.

He's been chasing him all night, along with Chica and Roxy, but something about this didn't seem right.

Nothing about what he was doing,, seemed right. But he can't remember much right now. Like his memories had been taken overnight.

There are bits and pieces that Monty does remember, are memories confirming that he'd never go as far as to harm a child, though, it feels as if he has no more control of his body.

That he's merely a puppet. Someone who's having to watch from the outside, as he's forced to hunt down this poor kid.

He wonders if the others feel this way, or if he is alone on this.

But of course, none of that matters right now, only the objective at hand. Catch Gregory.

Multiple times Monty had come close to completing him mission, but Gregory keeps getting away, time after time again.

And suspiciously, Freddy will sometimes be there as well. But he's helping the others track down this kid, he's not helping him, no, that would be insane.

Vanessa has informed all of the animatronics to find and apprehend him, but why does it feel like their is some ulterior motive? Like catching is not just what you need to do.

Even if Monty wanted out of this, it seems as if something else, or someone else, is forcing him to stay in line.

So there's nothing that can be done here, the only goal is the find and kill Gregory, whether they want to, or not.

And because of this constant chasing and nearly dying, it's forced Gregory to stand up and fight back. Chica was the first one to experience that.

And unfortunately, Monty is about to as well.

~~~~~~~~

You've been working as a nightguard here at the pizzaplex for some time now. Maybe a few months already.

The plan was to actually apply for a mechanical job, but due to the company using high tech machinery to fix the animatronics, you decided to take the job they offered.

Which was nightguard.

It did bum you out a little that you couldn't work on the animatronics because this was something you've been striving to achieve since you were a kid.

But you took security guard becuase you'll at least be able to get close and see these fascinating robots.

Montgomery Gator was the one who had caught your interest the most.

You thought his design was absolutely amazing, how they were able to make something as heavy as an animatronic swim which the fact of that alone would make anyone want to discover how he operates.

He's also you're favorite due to the fact that you got this job while you were in an incredibly low point in your life. And seeing him give his all on stage cheered you up.

Made you even stay and watch the concerts he was in when it was your day off.

He was the main reason you kept doing this odd job. All night you swear you've heard talking, like a kid, but when you investigate, there is no one!

It feels like you are going insane.

And for some reason the animatronics were just out and about??

You tried to ask why, but they just seemed rather spaced out or tried to come up with an excuse.

You believe one of them said something about Vanessa letting them out, which is already causing your mind to run fifty miles an hour.

"I just need to find Vanessa and see what's going on."

~~~~~~~~

Monty had just jumped down onto the catwalks right above gator golf.

He could hear the robotic gators down below breaching the water here and there.

What he couldn't hear was Gregory, he saw the kid on the catwalks, but where was he?

And then he heard what sounded like the toy guns going off, hitting the target right above the giant bucket of golf balls.

Now he knew exactly where the brat was.

But why did he think Gregory was a brat? He never thought this way before. Sure there was the occasional kid, but this felt different.

Everything just felt hazy.

And this hazy feeling is starting to wear Monty down, like he's trapped. None of this feels right.

"There you are!" Monty screamed, chasing after Gregory at full speed, the flooring shaking with each hard stomp he made.

These catwalks were never up to date, and that is about to be Monty's downfall, quite literally.

This annoying little game of cat and mouse continued on for the next several minutes.

Probably the most stressful several minutes Gregory has ever had. Not everyday you go toe to toe with an animatronic alligator.

But all of that was about to change as Gregory was so close to filling up the damn bucket. Maybe five more golf balls and he's good to go.

Multiple times Monty has nearly achieved his goal, but he's always a second short and the shaking of the catwalk isn't exactly helping him out here.

He couldn't exactly understand why Gregory wanted up here, but Monty's not exactly in the right now to ask questions right now, not that he could anyways.

'Almost there' Gregory thought to himself, trying desperately to not get caught by this oversized attraction.

He was somehow able to get three balls in before he was chased away from the shooter, but no worries, he's got this!

"Enough of this game of hide and seek!" Monty growled in frustration, looking around eagerly to see if Gregory was anywhere near.

Monty can only deal with this damn child getting away for so long before it gets real annoying. And we have gotten well past that point.

"There you are!" Monty yelled, finally catching sight of Gregory once more, not realizing that the bucket has been successfully filled.

Rushing past the bucket and to the button, Gregory anxiously waited for Monty to get in close enough range.

"No where left to run." Monty said in a menacing tone, getting closer and closer.

Once he was right under the bucket, Gregory slammed his hand on the button, causing the bucket to begin falling on Monty.

Which Monty was able to catch it but he was struggling and was able to stop it for a second.

That absolutely terrified Gregory for a second, until the floors finally gave away and broke underneath the gator.

He watched as Monty hit each and individual beam on his way down until he hit the stage.

Finally, now he can rest a tad bit easier. ~~~~~~~~

You could have sworn that there was a loud crash that had come from inside the building somewhere!

What on earth is going on tonight!

You've heard about odd things happening sometimes, but after working here for months and haven't seen anything weird, you assumed it was all rumors.

But tonight is forcing you to wonder if there is some truth behind those rumors.

Getting a tad bit anxious and frustrated from the odd events of tonight, you decide to go investigate what exactly is going on.

"I new I shouldn't have come in tonight." You say in a tired tone.

"And on my day off too."

Going through the building, you see no signs of Chica or Monty. Which is weird because you saw them actively moving around earlier, even Freddy was no where to be seen.

"Vanessa is gone too, of course." You said with a sigh, getting rather fed up.

You jumped out of your skin when you heard what sounded like metal scraping against the floor.

You quickly grab your flashlight before turning it on in the direction of the godawful scraping sounds.

What you saw both surprised and disturbed you. It was Monty, and he looked so lost and broken.

He had no legs and his exoskeleton on his arms looked like they had been taken off.

"Monty?" You say, worried about how this happened and what did this to him. This is some really bad damage.

"What happened?" You ask, each step of your boots causing them to echo throughout the place as you got closer to him.

The animatronic looked around, wanting to know the same thing. He couldn't remember much, just bits and pieces of what happened.

Though, he didn't want to believe that to be the truth.

"I'm,,, not sure." His voice came out rather gravelly. And it's not like it was a complete lie, he didn't truly know what happened, only parts of the truth.

"Let's get you down to parts and service, we can talk more then." You say while effortlessly picking him up. Monty laid limp as he let it happen, he was very surprised by the raw strength you had.

He would've find it humorous, if it was not under these circumstances.

Monty didn’t want to see you under these conditions, you were always his favorite employee.

You actually treated the animatronics with love and respect, not like they were some inconvenience or abomination.

It was a nice change having you around, knowing he wouldn’t get treated badly for just being different.

“There should be some spare parts to work with down in parts and services.” You said, cutting the silence.

Monty stayed quiet, still trying to piece together what happened and why he felt like he wasn’t in control.

Maybe a deadly virus had hacked into his programming. Yeah, that has to be it.

After a few minutes, you had gotten down to parts and services through Monty’s door.

After sitting him down in the chair, you went to work, preferring to due this by hand. That machine is just a horrible shortcut, and who knows when it might malfunction.

“I’ve read through all of the Glamrocks manuals, including the daycare attendants!” You said proudly.

Monty slowly looked up at you, puzzled by how you got your hands on it.

Reading his confusion, you answered.

“I stole them.”

And then continued to work on him like nothing happened.

He couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh at the fact that you had the guts to do something like that.

“I made sure to put them back exactly where I found them.” You added.

“I think it’s good that you did take them.” Monty admitted, kind of happy that it’s you working on him and not the automated machine.

But he couldn’t explain why. Is it because he thinks of you as a friend?

You kept going back and forth from him to the back where all of his parts were being kept. You even made sure to grab his manual, just to be safe.

You don’t want to mess up just because you got overconfident. It would be him who mainly gets punished.

Well, maybe you too, you could lose your job.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get all fixed up!” You said with a smile, already working on getting his legs fixed up.

“May take a bit.” You said, noticing that you’d have to get a new exo skeleton, may need to replace some of his endo too.

You have a lot of work to do, and not enough time to do it since the doors would be opening in just a few hours.

What felt like a while but was actually maybe 10-15 minutes, Monty decided to speak up to break this silence.

Though it’s not like he minded it, your presence was just enough. But he couldn’t understand why.

“You’re too good at this to be a night guard.” He said, noticing how well you were doing.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You laughed before continuing your sentence.

“I had originally tried to get a job here as a mechanic, but they told me I wasn’t needed in that department. I took what I could get, so when they offered me the night guard job, I snatched it.”

“I think they should reconsider, I’d still be crawling if it weren’t for you.” Monty said with what sounded like sincerity.

“Maybe I’ll try to request it again if the opportunity ever comes up.”

~~~~~~~~

You were able to get what you could done before the doors open. What was left would have to be fixed by whoever operates the machine.

After that night, you and Monty had grown so much closer.

You found yourself at his concerts when you were off or just available.

And Monty found himself leaving his room at night just so he could see you. He’d even walk with you through your shift.

Luckily the odd things from that night had finally stopped so you didn’t have to worry about anything weird like that happening again.

But the weirdest thing to you is that you might be falling for an animatronic alligator.

And he might be falling back.

I finally got it done! I apologize if there’s not enough Monty x reader in it, by the time I realized there was too much down to go back

But I hope you enjoy!

[zaeliaeve]

𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓕𝓵𝓪𝓶𝓮 [𝓚.𝓜] 𝟏𝟖+ Chapter 3

18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI

warnings: oral sex, vaginal sex, size kink, and daddy kink.

- 

It's fair to say most people would take a wealthy man's money if given the opportunity.

If you add him being in a relationship and having an affair the option to take the money would seem obvious, but for some reason, it wasn't. It was a kind gesture but it was one that felt sleazy taking for Bianca.

Bianca pondered on how to approach the situation and landed on a simple text; one that she didn't really expect him to respond to given his recent moody state of mind. How could one man go from coming in your mouth, to ignoring you like you never existed, and then giving a blank check with flowers that same day? It was hard to keep up with.

Even through all of that, she didn't want to stop anything between them. If anything she craved it more. She pressed her thighs together just thinking about Kylian emptying himself down her throat. Kylian was like a drug.

It was everything about him. His wide friendly smile, his strong broad shoulders, his low sensual voice. It was hard not to be drawn to him.

Although Kylian's behavior was odd she understood it. This was a consequence of being with someone who already has someone they're giving their time and attention to and have for years before her. Camille was the mother of his child and nothing could change that.

Bianca still felt she should show her gratitude even if she wasn't going to take him up on the offer. It was only right.

The only reason Bianca had managed to get Kylian's number was because they would message each other their lunch orders when they needed to. They had only messaged once or twice outside of those terms.

She could only imagine how awkward it would be for Camille to stumble upon his phone and find texts with his secretary. What would she say? How would she feel?

But under these circumstances, it seemed appropriate.

B: You didn't have to do that but I really do appreciate it. Thank you for your kindness, I really needed it today.

Bianca hadn't had time to dwindle on the subject after she sent the text because she spent the next hour on the phone with her mother, completely distracted from anything else. As she was hanging up, her phone vibrated.

KM: I wanted to do it. I hope you enjoy your trip and spend time with your family. Bring back another one of your sister's scarves, Ariella spilled red apple sauce all over mine last month.

She laughed and buried the lower half of her face deeper into her pillow, ignoring the tinge of internal guilt at the mention of his daughter.

B: I'm not going, but I'll have her send another one through the mail.

Surprisingly, he messaged back quickly.

KM: Why not? Do you think I haven't noticed you scrolling through your mom's pictures on Facebook when you're supposed to be working? This is all you wanted

B: I want to go more than anything but I'm not taking your money. I'll be able to go in a few months after I finish paying off my engine. Also, how did you get my address?

KM: I definitely broke a few company policies for you, I hope you feel special.

KM: Do you really think I'd offer you money if I didn't mean it? Considerate it a thank-you gift for all the things your family sends. Your grandma's creams cured my cough in one night.

B: I'm not taking your money!! I don't take other people's things that they worked for.

The irony is not lost upon her.

B: And maybe I feel just a littleeeee bit special.

KM: Just think about it, but who knows for your birthday I might buy you a car out of pure spite!

B: Okay, I will. Thank you again, goodnight Mbappé.

KM: Kylian*** and bonne nuit Bianca. When Bianca came into work a few days later, she was surprised to find a receipt for a plane ticket on her desk. It said her full name and the date which was for that very weekend. Bianca instantly called Kylian's landline phone. "You didn't," Bianca said with surprise as she looked down at the paper, not even saying hello. 

He laughed from the other end of the phone. "I did. You wouldn't let me do it any other way," he says like it is nothing.

"Kylian" she whined, tears blurring her vision. 

Bianca was overcome with many emotions, at a loss for words as she shook slightly. "Thank you so much I don't even know what to say"

He let out a soft awww before shaking his head, smiling growing wider. "You deserve it. It's not that big of a deal, I don't know if you know this or not but money isn't exactly a worry for me" His tone was light and teasing.

She told him, nose becoming stuffy. "It is a big deal Kylian! Thank you,  thank you." 

 "Go have fun, Bianca."

And she did.

The trip was for four days meaning she missed only two days of work, the other days being her time off anyways. While in her home country, she took time to decompress. Bianca visited her father's gravesite, finally ate a homecooked meal after months, and read bedtime stories to her nephews. It was everything she needed, and more.

It felt so good to sleep in her old bed, but it came with complicated emotions when she would wake up and her father wouldn't be there reading the morning newspaper at the kitchen table. It felt more empty in the house even though the family had only grown since then.

Coming home offered a unique perspective that she was missing for all those months in Paris. As promised, she brought home a big bag of bread, candy, homemade creams, and knitted things for everyone around the office but most of all Kylian.

Going from somewhere hot and peaceful to the cold bustling Paris was an adjustment. 

On the day Bianca came back into the office it was absolutely pouring outside. Thunder vibrated the building's walls all day, many of the higher-ups deciding just to go home and work from their own houses. 

As the day neared its end she received a text from Kylian. 

Taking public transport in this weather will be horrible. You'll go home drenched like a dog. Let me give you a ride

Bianca instantly replied to the text. You've done enough for me this week, I'll be fine (thank u though).

Kylian sent a thumbs-down reaction to her message. I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you. Humor me a bit Bianca

Oh Kylian will you please drive me home in this pouring rain? I'll wash away in the sewers if you don't rescue me!

He responded with a laughing emoji, and then a red heart. Well since you asked so nicely.

They met inside his car, both making sure to walk out separately at different times so as to not be seen together. "I would ask if you want directions but you already know apparently" Bianca teased as he pressed the push-to-start button. 

Internally she was gawking at his car.All-white leather seats, a grand glass sunroof, and a big touchscreen console. It was stunning. 

"How was your trip?" Kylian asked as he pulled out of his parking spot. 

The radio played quietly in the background. "It was therapeutic. My nephews grew so much that I couldn't believe it. The youngest is talking now and when I left he would barely say mama. I forgot time doesn't slow down for anyone." Bianca explained, eyes trained on the smooth road.

Kylian nodded empathetically. "I understand how you feel. Ariella is growing and learning new things every day. The other day she wrote her first name in crayon. It wasn't the neatest, but she did it all on her own. it's scary but rewarding to watch a baby grow into their own person." Something changed in him when he mentioned his daughter, a brightness in his eyes.

Bianca's lips upturned as she looked at him. "That's a big accomplishment. I'm sure you're a proud papa."

He flashed his white teeth. "The proudest." 

Kylian changed the subject as he put on his turn signal, the mood switching back to casual. "It was boring at the firm without you. We had one of Leo's assistants fill in as the secretary and he didn't laugh once at any of my jokes. Plus, he wasn't wearing a tight skirt to make up for his personality, so it was even worse" He teased, head nodding to her outfit.

"If that's what it takes for you to leave me alone I'll come in with a hazmat suit tomorrow" Bianca giggled, playing along.

The Frenchman shook his head, a smirk still on his lips. "Without me, you would have quit a long time ago."

He wasn't wrong so Bianca decided not to say anything but to just laugh instead.

"Did you bring me back anything? I hope you brought those little jelly-filled cookies"  

Bianca looked out her window, not wanting to make eye contact for what she was going to say. "Actually I brought you a lot of things but I left them in my house. I can bring them to you or..." she trailed off.

"...Or?" Kylian chirped back

She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs together. "Or you can come inside."

He breathed in heavily. "Okay, sure."

They made it to her home and Bianca was almost trembling with anticipation while she turned the key over.  When they stepped inside, they took off their shoes at the door before she led him into her bedroom. 

Kylian wrapped his arms around her as they stood in front of the bed, Bianca's heart melting at the feeling of his soft lips on her own. It was everything she wanted it to be. Kylian grasped at her body as their tongues met, sighing happily into the kiss. They made out for a while, infatuated with each other's mouths.

 "You know I've never seen you naked before" Kylian breathlessly noted after some time. 

Bianca leaned up to peck his lips again, eyes twinkling. "Ahh I'm nervous. Close your eyes and I'll get on the bed."

He chuckled and turned around to take his pants off then button down his shirt."You have no reason to be nervous, you're beautiful" he assured her kindly.

Bianca quickly stripped herself of her work clothes before laying on top of the bed, staring at Kylian's muscular back and legs as he stood in his boxers. "You can look now."

Kylian walked over to the bed; silently gasping as he glanced down at the lilac lace adorning her frame. "What's this?" He asked, running his hands over the material covering her chest. 

He moved back a bit so he could look at her full body, taking her in completely before crawling on top of her.

Bianca's cheeks flushed red as she tried to nuzzle into his neck to hide her embarrassment. His hands pushed her gently back down onto the bed so their eyes could meet. "You got all dolled up for me, ma belle?" His tone was soft, yet in awe.

His gaze felt so caring it made it hard to keep eye contact but yet she wanted to drown in the feeling forever.

This feels different than before.

"I wanted to surprise you," Bianca says honestly, batting her long eyelashes as she maintained deep eye contact.

Kylian leans down to kiss her affectionately, hand caressing her cheek as if she were made of glass. She inhales into the kiss, breathing in Kylian's intoxicatingly enticing cologne. When he pulls away his breathing is heavier. "You are absolutely perfect."

Her stomach flips at his words and she brings him back down for another kiss, this time with more passion in her own way to reciprocate the sentiment. Both of their hearts are pounding as their limbs laced together, truly enjoying the feel of each other.

As the kiss heated up, Kylian brought his hand up to rub against Bianca's thinly clothed nipple earning a soft mewl from her. Fueled by her reaction, he broke the kiss to leave sloppy kisses down her neck and onto her chest, sucking on the spot he knows drives her crazy.

Kylian unclasped her bra with ease before tossing it onto the hardwood floor. He froze in his place to look at her and smiled at her blown-out pupils, raw lips, and erect nipples. "Magnifique" he praised before attaching his mouth onto her breast.

Bianca's back arched up as she ground onto his already rock-solid bulge, holding his head while he suckled onto her left nipple. She moaned loudly from the intense feeling, holding him as tightly as she could while the wet sensation clouded all her senses.

He rolled his tongue around the sensitive nerves, grazing purposefully with his bottom teeth. A string of saliva was drawn out as he pulled away and moved onto the other breast, repeating the process "s-so good" Bianca babbled out, drunk with lust.

Kylian looked up with darkened eyes as he sucked hungrily, pleased with her whines. Bianca was sopping wet, a small pool of her juices spreading onto Kylian's skin. He pulled away from her chest and kissed downwards until he reached the top of her lace underwear.

Without hesitation, he pulled the lace down her legs before spreading them enough to slide himself in between. Bianca almost screamed as Kylian licked at her wet heat, he held his hands firmly at the top of her thighs.

"So wet for me princess" his voice vibrated as he spoke, causing her to grind down further.

He lapped at her slick folds, moaning at the sweet taste. One hand lifted off of her thighs and he pressed two long fingers at her entrance. Kylian sucked at her swollen clit as he inserted his fingers deeply, quickly finding a steady rhythm.

Bianca's eyes rolled back, uncontrollable noises falling from her lips as Kylian's fingers sunk into her, hitting her most sensitive places. Kylian only sucked harder at her clit, causing her thighs to shake around his head.

It took everything within her brain power to be able to form a sentence, even in pieces. "Fuck me, please fuck me, please Kylian" she got out, brain too gone for embarrassment.

Kylian continued his movements, fingers only speeding up as she quivered underneath his tongue. "Please daddy" she begged, feeling too close to her edge.

He outrightly moaned and stood up off of the bed, leaving Bianca's thighs dripping onto the sheets below. Kylian pulled down his boxers to reveal his fully erect length, precum oozing down the tip.

"My needy little whore" he cooed as he brought her naked body to the edge of the bed.

Bianca smiled at the name before sharply inhaling while Kylian lined himself up with her. He stroked at his length before dragging himself down her folds, soaking his tip in the clear liquid. Kylian pressed his dick up against Bianca's clit, teasing her while she begged him for more.

After he got the reaction he wanted he moved down and slowly inserted himself, drooling at the sight of her gripping him tightly. Bianca tapped on his chest, causing him to freeze immediately in his place. "Do you want to wear a condom?" She asked, still half full of him.

He thought about it for a quick second, but his mind already seemed made up. "Do you want me to wear a condom?" He repeated back.

"No, wanna feel you raw."

Kylian smiled sweetly and then pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Likewise, princess."

Bianca lifted her head to watch the slow movements pick back up, sighing in contentment at the feeling and sight of his thick cock stretching her.

He leaned over to kiss her, slipping his tongue in sloppily while he bottomed out fully within her. They made out hotly as Bianca got used to his size. When she started bucking into him, he took that as a sign to start moving again. Slowly, he picked up his pace- groaning raspily as he fucked into her tight hole.

She moved to lift her legs onto his shoulders, crying out in ecstasy when he reached a new level of deep. Kylian's jaw dropped at the new angle as he held on to her tightly, thrusting into her quicker. "Fuck it's b-big" Bianca slurred, eyelids dropping with pleasure.

Kylian pressed his large hand down onto her stomach. "Can you feel it in here, mon bébé?" His tone was low and confident.

Bianca dropped her hand down under his, moaning loudly when she felt a small bulge that popped up in time with his movements. "Y-yes so so deep" she whimpered, tears prickling up at the corners of her eyes from how good it felt.

He was rougher now, completely pulling out before slamming back into her harshly. Kylian gasped out every time his throbbing cock ground against the back of her slick walls. She was loving every moment of it, squeezing around his thick length.

"You're so fucking tight" he panted in between thrusts, his balls twitching at the feeling.

There was a pressure building that she had never felt before. She had had many orgasms in her life, but this was more intense. Bianca began to thrash around on the bed, the pressure overwhelming her in the best way. Kylian groaned as her walls clenched around him even tighter, his orgasm not too far away. "Daddy fuck, I can't."

Even in his lost mind, he understood what was happening so continued at his fast pace, bringing a hand to circle against her clit. Bianca's moans become more frequent and louder as she was at the brink of her edge, the strange pressure growing to be too much.

Kylian leaned down to her ear, his pace keeping at the same rate. "You've been such a good girl for me," he praised, watching her almost unravel underneath him.

"Come all over my cock, princess" he instructed, pressing down harder onto her clit.

Bianca screamed as a clear fluid gushed out of her, wetting Kylian's thighs and lower abs. "Fuck yes, baby. Keep coming all over, pretty girl" Kylian groaned as he fucked her through her orgasm.

Her nails racked down his back as she spasmed around his cock, her world stopping as she squirted all over her bed and lover. Bianca couldn't think about anything other than the dick pounding her, tears pouring down her face at the overwhelming euphoria. "Fuck Kylian" was all she managed to rasp out in between cries.

Kylian kissed her temple softly. "I know, baby. I know"

It took a good minute for the pleasure to finally fade, but her walls still shook around his hard length. Kylian was dangerously close, proud of himself for not coming instantly when he saw Bianca's orgasm.

A wet deeply erotic pop filled the room as Kylian pulled out of her soaking pussy; climbing on the bed and over Bianca with his dick still in his hands.

Bianca stuck her tongue out as Kylian towered over her, cupping his balls while he jerked himself off rapidly. As she went to wrap her mouth around his full length, Kylian held her hair tightly in place so she was hovering over his dick without being on it.

"Wanna give me a facial?" Bianca asked, batting her eyelashes up at him.

Kylian nodded, sweat dripping down from his forehead as he pulled at his cock. Bianca wanted to say whatever she needed to in order to get him there. "Gonna come for me, Daddy? Gonna paint me like the cumslut I am for you?" Bianca purred, sticking out her tongue once again.

He let out something in-between a cry and a grunt as his cock jerked wildly, spurting out his huge sticky load onto her face. Kylian tried to keep his eyes open to watch but couldn't, the pleasure almost bringing him down to the bed fully, knees wobbly.

"Merde" Kylian choked out as he dragged his length over Bianca's semen-stained cheek, using his own cum to jerk off for a little bit longer. After a minute he let out a relaxed breath as his body calmed down.

As soon as Bianca noticed his orgasm had washed away, she mouthed his oversensitive dick to lick up the white residue. Kylian winced loudly but let her clean up the mess, watching as she used her fingers to scoop the rest and swallow it. "You're an angel, Bianca" Kylian breathed out as he leaned down to kiss her, the taste of each other on their lips.

They lazily kissed for a few seconds before Kylian collapsed beside her. He pulled Bianca into his bare chest and let his breathing even out as his eyes closed exhaustedly. "Missed you so much" was the last thing Kylian said before dozing off completely. 

Bianca pressed a long kiss to his chest. "I missed you too" she murmured before falling into her own sleep.

Everything felt so serene, so right.

In times like these, it was easy to forget about the world waiting for them outside. It was just them. No distractions, no work, no worries. They slept peacefully for hours, not waking up for anything as they cradled each other's naked bodies. 

The bright sun has long since set, the tranquil moonlight allowing their fantasy to live out without the light reminding them of their real lives and responsibilities. 

All good things must come to an end at some point.

In the middle of the night, Kylian sat up abruptly, heart pounding in his chest. Bianca stirred next to him, awoken by the sudden movement. His hands scanned across the bed until they reached his phone. 

Kylian squinted at the bright light and tapped at the screen until it unlocked. "Shit.." he sighed as he looked down at the dozens of missed calls and texts.

Bianca didn't even know what to say, mind still foggy from sleep. Even if she hadn't just woken up she's not sure if she could come up with something better. "Is she mad?" she croaked out, voice grainy.

"She's pissed and worried. I should call her to let her know I'm okay" Kylian crawled out of bed and put on his boxers, leaving Bianca cold at the loss of his body warmth. 

Bianca frowned and watched him disappear into her living room- shutting the bedroom door behind him. Her heart swelled as tears welled up in her eyes, listening as Kylian apologized profusely and made up a web of lies about where he was.

It dawned upon her that no matter what moments they shared he wasn't hers. No matter how many times he caressed her and made her feel beautiful he would eventually go back to Camille. Why am I even upset? I'm the bitch here. I'm ruining their relationship not the other way around.

Kylian broke her out of her thoughts as the door creaked open. "I told her I'm just gonna come home from the office in a few hours after the rain eases up." He crawled back into his previous spot, pulling the blanket over him.

He glanced over to find a dazed Bianca staring up at the ceiling. "What's wrong?" He pinched her nose playfully to lighten the mood.

"Nothing, just tired" she lied, eyes now on him.

Kylian opened his arms widely. "Come here then." 

Her worries melted away as she was enveloped in his comforting embrace. Kylian's fingers scratched at her scalp as she drifted off again, Kylian following not too far behind her.

When Bianca woke up from her alarm buzzing loudly she was surprised to find her bed empty. Bianca threw on a robe as she searched for Kylian, but he was nowhere to be found. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a big paper bag on her kitchen counter. 

Bianca opened the bag to find a prepacked breakfast from a restaurant nearby with an old piece of paper on top with scribbled writing on it. Don't hate me, I didn't want to wake you up. I hope you enjoy your breakfast. See you at the office -K.M

She shook her head and pulled out the food, throwing the paper back into the bag. Back to reality.

Later that same day it was business as usual. Bianca giggled to herself all throughout the day, still riding on the high of last night's events. A couple of her coworkers pointed out that she seemed to be giddy today, but Bianca kept her lips sealed shut. 

"Good afternoon" Bianca's greeted as she heard the front door open, her eyes stayed glued to the computer, typing something into the documents.

When her eye's left the screen she was surprised to be met with a familiar face that she didn't want to see, especially not now. Camille stood with her arms crossed, dark circles rimming the bottom of her eyes. "Is Kylian here?" 

Bianca inhaled sharply. "Mr. Mbappé is up inside his office, yes," she confirmed dragging her eyes back onto her computer screen.

Camille headed off to the elevators but turned back on second thought. "Was Kylian really here last night? Did you see him leave with anyone else?" she asked, her tone dripping with worry.

Bianca tried to ignore the hundreds of thoughts coming at her at once, guilt heavy on her conscious. She tried to look casual as she clicked away at her keyboard. "He was here when I left, but that's all I know." 

Once again Camille headed to the elevators, this time not looking back.

As soon as the girl left, Bianca buried her head into her hands and groaned loudly. I'm becoming a horrible person.

-

𝔸/ℕ: 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘! 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕒𝕟 𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕤𝕠 𝕀'𝕞 𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕤𝕠 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕀 𝕜𝕖𝕡𝕥 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕒 𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕙𝕒.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Mafia!Yandere!Kang Taehyun x F!Reader TW : yandere themes ; kind of angsty ; stalking ; manipulation ; stabbing ; blood ; Word Count : 2.0k

Breaking up with Taehyun had been the best decision you had ever made in your entire life, but it had also been the worst. Nobody, especially not you, would have been able to predict the mess that would unfold afterwards. It was unexpected, it was unlike him… you were terrified, and that’s just the way he wanted you. 

“So, have you been in any relationships before you moved here or…” The man asked, sitting across the table from you at the little hole in the wall cafe. It was a date, the first one you had been on since being moved as far away as possible from the city that you had lived in before, under a different name, a new look, you had a completely different identity. Everything had been changed, your previous identity had been all but erased completely, but that didn’t get rid of the memories that haunted you every single day. Nothing would ever clear your mind of that. 

Your head shook quickly as you nervously brought the cup of coffee up to your lips, your eyes more often than not, darting to look out the window that you both were sitting beside. “No… I haven’t been with anyone else before… Life has just been so busy before I moved… I’m just trying to adjust and settle in…” Technically you weren’t even lying, according to your new life and your new identity, you really hadn’t been in a relationship and you had just moved to this new city from the countryside. Technically, you weren’t lying at all. 

“Well… If you uh… Ever need someone to show you around or… Just…  Ya know… Keep you company… I’m here. You can call me or text me whenever.” He murmured sheepishly, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink and his smiling eyes were cast down towards the table. The gesture was sweet, he was sweet, and you weren’t used to that. In a strange way, it almost scared you more. 

You knew this man would never hurt you, not the way that you had been hurt before, but even that thought was quickly backtracked. You had thought that same thing before and you had been so horribly wrong, that’s why you’re where you’re at right now. Even still, you didn’t want to be alone, you hated it, you could barely sleep at night, jumping awake at every and every little sound that you heard inside and outside of the house. “Yeah… Yeah that would be great actually… Thank you.” 

The date continued on awkwardly, and while you couldn’t see yourself with the guy right now, you thought that maybe, just maybe, once you were over your own traumatic experiences, you’d be open to trying out another relationship and seeing where that one takes you. 

You sat on the couch in your living room, freshly showered, your hair tied up on your head as a much needed spring thunderstorm rolled into the area, the lightning intermittently illuminating the dark gray clouds in the sky as the pouring rain created puddles on every surface. It was your favorite kind of weather, you could easily fall asleep sitting up while listening to the pattering of the rain against the windows. 

The wind was picking up, rustling the freshly budded leaves on the trees that surrounded your house, everything was so beautiful, and the scenery in this new house, in this new area, was more gorgeous than anything you would have seen while living your old life in your old apartment. It didn’t take long for the sounds of the storm to lull you to sleep, your head rolling against the back of the couch, your body succumbing to the exhaustion of living a new life. 

“Wake up, darling…” A soft voice cooed, and the voice sounded so familiar in your head, but you thought it was just a nightmare, you wanted it to be nothing more than a nightmare. You stirred slightly, or moreso, tried to stir, only to realize that your hands wouldn’t move, they couldn’t move. “It’s time to wake up… now.” 

You were conscious, you were fully aware that the voice you were hearing right now was very real, and it was coming from beside your bed instead of inside your head where you thought it was originally. You didn’t want to open your eyes, you were petrified of what you’d see, but you also knew that the longer you disobeyed him, the angrier he’d get. 

Once again, you pretended to stir, rolling over onto your side to face away from him, trying to give yourself just a little more time to prepare yourself before looking at him directly. Your eyes opened slowly, and maybe it would have been better to just look at him, to have opened your eyes and be met with the man who played the starring role in every single one of your nightmares.

Beside you on the bed was the man that you had just seen a couple hours ago, the man that had walked you up to your porch and pulled you into an awkwardly loose hug. His mouth was taped shut and his face was so badly bruised that you could barely even recognize him. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as you thought of all the ways it could have possibly happened, all of the things that could have been done to him that led up to this moment. He didn’t deserve this, it wasn’t his fault, he knew nothing about your life before. Maybe if he had, he would have avoided you and stayed safe. 

“You cry for such a useless person… He was nobody… Yet you cry…” Taehyun mused, watching with far too much enjoyment as the tears leaked down your face and stained your pillow. “Did you cry for me, darling? You ran away from me… You left me… Like I was nobody.” For a moment you thought he was crying, although you should have known better, but you still spared a glance at him, and that’s all it took for him to lash out. His fist landed against the wall, his eyes wide and crazed as he stared at you. “After everything I did for you!? You left! All I wanted to do was protect you, keep you safe… You don’t know what the world is like.” 

“You hurt me… Taehyun…” You whispered, your bottom lip quivering and your body shaking with fear as your heart sped up. This wasn’t the first time you had seen him like this, but you thought that you’d never have to see it again. “I couldn’t keep living like that… It was too much.” 

He chuckled lowly, the sound was one that you were familiar with, a sound that had your body going cold and all the color draining from your face. “Did you not think that it would hurt me when you left? You ran to the police?! You tried to hide from me!” His voice raised with every word, every sentence, the veins in his neck protruding as he got more and more pissed off. 

You tried to move away, and even though you knew it would only make things worse, you at least wanted to have a chance. “I was scared of you!” You shouted, moving to get up off the bed, but he quickly stood in front of you, his eyes boring into yours. “Y-You…” Your voice was shaky, and just like before, your confidence was gone, your strength was nowhere to be found. Fear took over and it chilled you completely. 

“I what?” He cooed, but venom laced his words, his demeanor was condescending and he knew the power that he had over you. He loved it. Your lips were pulled together tightly, barely even able to breathe as you looked up at him, and the worst part was that you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. “Exactly…” He rolled his eyes as he started pacing around your bedroom, his arms crossed over his chest, his muscles pushing against the tight sleeves of his shirt as he seemed to purposely flex them just to intimidate you more. “Tell me, darling… Did you really think you’d be able to hide from me?” He snickered softly, turning to face you once more, standing right in front of you and kneeling down, his face inches from your own, his breath hot against your face. You shook your head slowly, once again submissive to him just as you had been. “Good girl… I have one more question though… And if you lie to me like you did before, I promise, this’ll be the last time you do.” Your heart was racing, pounding against your ribs, it felt like it would break through. You didn’t know what he was planning, all you did know was that his goal was to scare you and it was working. “Why were you with this… guy? Do you like him? Is he important to you? Did you tell him about me, about how awful I was?” 

It was a strange set of questions, you thought he’d care more about what you had told the police to get you out of that situation. You didn’t think he’d actually care about the man that you had been seeing. “N-No… He’s just a friend… He doesn’t know anything about before…” You whispered, hoping that your words would save the man who was somehow still alive, although badly beaten, beside you. “Please, let him go… He didn’t do anything… Taehyun, please…” You pleaded for the man, your eyes widening and your hand clasped in front of you. 

“Hmm…” He hummed softly, his eyes darting between you and the form of the barely breathing man behind you. “You’re lying to me.” He said flatly, and before the first breath of a syllable could leave your mouth to deny it, he had pulled out a knife and plunged it into the neck of the man, his strained breaths cut off by the blood that now pooled in his mouth and spilled over. 

You muffled your screams in the palm of your hands, sliding off the edge of your bed and onto the floor, trying to move as far away from the crime scene as possible. “What the fuck!?” You screamed in between sobs, scooting up against the wall and wrapping your arms around yourself, as if that would protect you from him and whatever it was that he might want to do. 

“I told you not to lie to me!” He shouted back, his hands running through his hair as he started to pace the room once more. “I told you, and you still lied! This is your fault… You made me do this! I never get my hands dirty…” He was breathing heavily, his entire body shaking with the adrenaline that coursed through his veins. “You see what I do for you? Nobody else would ever go to the lengths that I did for you… Don’t you know that?” He dropped down onto the floor in front of you, his eyes wide and his pupils dilated, he looked like an absolute madman. “I’d do anything… anything for you. You can’t run from me, you can’t hide from me… You’re mine. I love you, my little mouse…” His bloodied hand came up to cup your cheek, your stomach turned when you felt the warmth of the crimson liquid against your skin, but you couldn’t pull away, you were too scared. “Tell me you love me too… Say it.” 

If you said it now, you’d be safe for a little while longer. He might not hurt you now, he might never hurt you at all, you just didn’t know. You had to protect yourself though, and while you weren’t sure when you’d be able to get away from him again, you knew that the only way to get away again was to follow him first. “I… I love you too Taehyun…”