#my internship place hasn’t given me a concrete offer yet but they wanted to see if they can match the other offer

[sableeira]

got a job offer ahhhhhhhhhhhh

[rex101111]

Made You Look

Chapter 1: Grab and Run

Words: 4961

Rating: T for violence and language

Summery:  Heroes sometimes act without thinking. Izuku more then others. One act of reckless heroism has more far reaching consquances then he can imagine.

Cross posted on AO3

Co-written with: @chapelseed

“It’s an embarrassing topic…I don’t want to talk about it out in the open…could you follow me this way?”

The Yakuza turns on his heels to face the alleyway, beckoning them both to come with him, Izuku feels the young girl in his arms clutching his costume even tighter, feels her shiver in uncontrolled fear against his chest, his heart beating faster in response. He wraps his arms around her, as if to cover every part of her, as if to make sure as little of her is visible to Chisaki.

“If anything happens,” He hears Mirio whisper beside him, cautious and on edge, “Let me handle it. We’ve got no choice but to get her away from him.”

As he gets to his feet and feels Eri curling up closer to him and putting her arms around his shoulders, he couldn’t agree more, “My thoughts exactly Togata-senpai.”

The muscles in his legs coil, the rushing fire of One For All ready to ignite.

Something in his voice must have given him away, because Mirio stiffens ever so slightly, “Midoriya don’t you dare-”

“What’s taking you two?” Overhaul turns his head to look at them from behind, his eyes still calm and composed as ever, but cold bleach coloring his tone, “I hope, for my daughter’s sake, that you aren’t planning on doing anything stupid.”

(The way he says daughter makes Izuku sick to his stomach. The same way one would talk about a prized car or an expensive piece of jewelry. An object to be owned not a person to be cared for. This makes the muscles in his legs coil even stronger.)

He places a calming hand on Eri’s shivering head as he puts on a viciously innocent smile, “Of course not sir,” He says, the quiet but flashing burn of his quirk streaking through his limbs, his voice calm but determined, “What I’m about to do isn’t stupid…”

He lifts one of his feet of the ground by just a few inches.

“It is reckless though.”

He stomps his foot on the concrete, sending a cloud of debris up into the street and into the alley, the civilians around him scream in a panic and begin to flee, falling all over themselves in the process.

(At this point he isn’t sure who’s going to kill him first, Nighteye or Aizawa, but right now that is of little consequence.)

“Follow me!” He yells out as he starts sprinting in a random direction, once again feeling the fire going through him, scorching his heart and engulfing his soul as it cowls him, “Hang on Eri-chan.” He whispers before he shoots across the pavement, not bothering to see if Mirio is on his lead, though hoping he has.

(if he had focused on some small corner on the back of his mind, he might of heard the voice of a woman laughing her approval, instead all he feels is One For All flaring more brightly then usual.)

“That was idiotic, Midoriya!” Comes the voice of his senior, tinged with new found anger, “You’re lucky he didn’t kill us both!” Despite his words, his mouth is twitching upwards, he’s somehow keeping pace with him using his quirk to sink into the ground for momentum, “Let’s hope this works! Or Nighteye will kick us both off the internship!”

Only now does the thought that this might spell the end of his hero studies occur to him, although the weight in his arms, that hasn’t stopped sobbing between fits of crying out either “I’m sorry” or “Thanks you”, stops it from slowing him down.

“Let’s deal with that later!” He says with a worried half smile, “Besides! You’re not trying to stopping me!”

Mirio visibly struggles with what to say next before shaking his head, “Where are we going anyway!?”

“Don’t know!” Is Izuku’s immediate response, he can feel Mirio shouting at him before he hears it, “Either UA or the office! Whichever is closer!”

“Or for the love of-you first years keep getting crazier! This way then!”

With that the two zip through the crowd, bounding their way to safety with the little girl in tow.

Behind them, still back at the alleyway entrance, sits the bird faced criminal, his eyes following every move they make, staying in place until they vanish into the horizon, he lets out a deep sigh, “This complicates things…”

His voice is calm, but his left arm twitches before flying up to swipe the nearby wall, the brick work expanding and then popping outward, pieces of it raining around him as a few more masked men follow out from the alley.

“Boss! I’m sorry they just flew out of nowhere and-!”

What ever that man would have said is lost beneath the crushing and rotting grip of  Overhaul’s palm, “Shut your worthless mouth and after them!”

The rest take little time in heading his shout, as they run off he takes a deep breath, slowly cleaning the blood the henchman left on his pal while Chronostasiss coming up behind him, hands twitching in uncharacteristic panic, “If they get away-”

“They won’t.”

“Our plans will be worthless-”

“They won’t get away.”

“We’re so close we just needed-”

“I said they won’t get away!” He bellows, taking one more deep breath before once more looking in the direction the young heroes ran off to, “It appears we have a terminal case of “Hero Syndrome” on our hands…sadly, such things only have one cure.”

He turns on his heel, the darkness of the alley way swallowing him whole, “Bring him to me when you catch him…alive,” His voice turns jagged and sharp, “I want to make an example of him, in front of Eri, let’s see her try and escape after that.”

As he sulks off in the direction of his hideout, Izuku and Mirio continue their escape, Eri safely tucked under the first year’s arm.

“I’m sorry…” She says one more time, voice wet and hoarse from her crying, her tears soaking Izuku’s costume all the way down to his undershirt, “I’m sorry for making you do this…”

“Don’t be.” Izuku says without hesitation, eyes trained forward but arms strong against her frame as they hold her to him, “This is what heroes are supposed to do!” She clutches her head to his chest, her one horn digging a little into his shoulder before he moves her a little so she’s more comfortable, “Just keep holding on Eri-chan, we’re almost there…”

She’s quiet before doing as he says and tightening her grip around his shoulders, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He says, voice cracking just a bit at her renewed tears as he speeds up, taking her further and further away…

Deku held the girl tightly against him as he followed Lemillion bounding across the city skyline. His breathing ragged yet even as One for All coursed through his muscles.

Izuku’s eyes lit up in relief as he saw Sir Nighteye’s office come into view. “Don’t worry, Eri-chan. We’re almost to safety.”

The small child shuddered closer to him as the two landed on the roof of the building. Mirio led them down the stairs to one of the offices, encountering a slender well dressed man with an unnerving insectoid head.

Mirio didn’t miss a beat. “Centipeder, get Sir Nighteye and Bubble Girl back here. We have a situation.”

Centipeder nodded and left while Izuku sat down with Eri still in his arms.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. You don’t have to fear that man anymore…” He whispered to her gently. He felt Eri tense again before she looked at him with tearful eyes, trembling her lips as she managed to stutter out a single word.

“Why?” Her voice cracking in stunted emotions.

Izuku felt his chest swell up and eight echoes in his mind of words that surpassed generations before him.

“Because I am here.”

Overhaul reaches his hideout, every inch of him rattling with rage, his minions clear a path for him, scurrying away in the same manner rats would from a rabid wolf, his eyes scour for the small form of Mimic, one of his hands twitching on top of the form his phone makes from the inside of his pocket, waiting for the report that would make him stop wanting to murder someone.

“Boss?” The Yakuza turns his head towards the sound, finally landing on the tiny form of his general manager, who was holding a phone in his hand, somehow looking nervous from behind his mask, “I got a call for ya…another time?”

Overhaul opened his mouth to tell Irinaka to shove that phone down his throat, but a thought in the back of his head stops him, best know who it is first, “A call from who, Mimic?”

“I-it’s Shigaraki boss…it’s about the offer we gave him a while back…should I tell him to call back?”

Shigaraki? Now? On top of everything else? Now?

Overhaul sees his well constructed plan flashing through his head, every piece of it slowly crumbling to nothing the more he thinks about the fact that he let his most important piece get taken away by some green haired little shi-

“B-Boss?”

“Give me the damned phone.” He hisses, he needs to selvage something from this train wreck. The little man quickly complies, Overhaul taking a deep breath before he puts the device to his ear, “You have impeccable timing Shigaraki.”

“Cut yourself shaving Overhaul?” The raspy voice on the other side says, a tint of amusement filtering through, “You seem to be in a shitty mood.”

“Hero society does that to me, as I’m sure you’ll relate, I just need to kill someone and I’ll be right as rain.” He takes another breath, “I was told you wanted to talk about the offer I so generously gave you a while back?”

“Go fuck yourself, generous my ass.” Shigaraki drawls elegantly, his rasp somehow completely calm, “But yes, I want to talk to you about that, in person though, not through the phone,” Overhaul could hear his dry lips curling over his teeth, “And on my terms, not yours, I’m saying that right now.”

“All in good time Shigaraki,” Overhaul says, more calm now that at least one thing is going his way, “And I’ll arrange a meeting don’t worry, I just need to take of a few-”

“B-Boss?”

Overhaul sighs, “Hold on,” He looks behind him to see some no name minion shaking in his boots as he worries his hands, “You have five seconds before you need to be cleaned up from these walls.”

“W-We f-f-found the ones who took Eri s-sir.”

“And?”

“…They’re in the Nighteye office…by the time we got there it was already surrounded by police and other heroes…there was nothing we could do…”

“Nothing you could do? Is that right?” The minion nodded, shivering, and all at once Chisaki explodes. He forgets the phone he was still holding, and stomped his way to the henchman, screaming down his face, “I DON’T CARE IF YOU NEED TO DRIVE A DAMNED CAR BOMB INTO THAT BUILDING!” He grabbed the grunt by the throat, his quirk already taking effect, as he started screaming at every one within ear shot, “ALL OF YOU ARE GOING BACK THERE AND GETTING BACK ERI ALONG WITH THAT GREEN HAIRED PEST OR YOU’LL ALL WISH I LEFT YOU IN THE DITCH I FOUND YOU!” All at once everyone, except for Mimic who had taken refuge from behind a corner, ran off without comment, leaving Chisaki to huff and sweat as he looked at the pile of blood that was a person not a moment ago, “AND SOMEONE CLEAN THIS SHIT UP!”

“Did you say green hair?”

Overhaul twitched, finally remembering the phone in his hand, grumbling as he took it back to his ear, “What?”

“I said did you say green hair?”

“…yes.”

“Was it a kid? Did the shit have freckles?”

“…someone you know?”

“Someone I want to kill,” Was the casual reply, Shigaraki’s voice gaining something…tricky as he continued speaking and stopping Overhaul’s rage in its tracks, “Someone who is giving me trouble, someone who’s head I would very much like to see flying off his shoulders.”

Chisaki could hear a smile forming, “Which, if by some chance that would happen, and I happen to see his head on the meeting table when I come for our little talk,” Overhaul was dangerously calm by this point, that fact hidden by his mask, “…I might be more open to…compromise.”

“...That so?”

“Call me when you aren’t screaming your head off.” And like that, he hang up, leaving Overhaul to consider exactly what to do next, his mind racing about, bouncing between all the ways he could use this to his advantage…

Mimic finally poked his head out from the corner, leering cautiously at Chisaki, “B-Boss?”

“Irinaka,” He started, his trademark deadpan back in place, “Get me Rappa.”  

“Let me reiterate what you just told me.” Nighteye stated in an even tone as he loomed over Izuku holding Eri in his arms. After surveying the complex, Bubble Girl had told him that Toogata and Midoriya had returned with reason. “You encountered Chisaki, spoke with him, and recklessly took his terrified daughter with little understanding of what your actions could very well cause.”

“Y-yes, s-s-sir.”

“But we have some proof of his actions, Sir!” Mirio stated to the side. “We know he’s been doing something to his -”

“Toogata-senpai, please!” Izuku halted Mirio’s defense as he felt Eri huddle in closer, shivering like ice. “It’s going to be okay, Eri-chan, it’s going to be okay…” He rubbed her back as he whispered to her.

Sir Nighteye looked at the scene with an analytical gaze. The press would have a field day over this if they saw face value, and the public would naively follow like a herd of sheep, bleating for falsified justice that would be cooked up. He crouched down to the child’s level and waited for her to turn around. After some encouragement, Eri shakily looked into Sir’s intense gaze. They only locked eyes for less than an instant before she curled into Izuku again, but it was long enough for Sir.

Nighteye saw two futures for this girl, a fission split down the middle. One had a lighter tone with the girl safe in Izuku’s hands, light silhouettes of others surrounding the two, the girl looking content.

The other… dark, mangled. A lone withered figure standing on a pile of bodies, a bleeding knife in its hand as it held Chisaki’s bloodied mask in the other. It fixed the mask on its face before it turned its gaze behind. An older, twisted woman looked back, eyes pale and hollow, a bronze horn coiling in her hair.

Nighteye reeled back and clutched his head as he panted, Bubble Girl at his side to keep him steady. After a moment Sir stood tall and looked back at Izuku. “What you did was incessantly arrogant, but your actions could have done much worse.” he stated, keeping his breathing eased. “The world is not so kind that you can always save others through will alone. Today was a fluke, but in the long run it may have made things easier for us all.” He turned away, but said one last thing.

“I’ll contact Aizawa about this development, as well as other offices about teaming up to stop Chisaki. In the meantime, Deku…” Sir gazed back with a calculating eye. “She’s your responsibility.”

“I said let me pass you piece of shit!”

“And I said get lost! What, you Yakuza have a hearing problem!?”

Outside the Nighteye Hero office was a massive commotion. Around the main building was a protective ring of security, both civilian and police officers along with more then a fair share of sidekicks stood shoulder to shoulder, preventing a rather large group of intimidating men in suits from entering the office.

“Our boss’s kid is in there! What, Did heroes start kidnapping little kids whenever they felt like it!?”

One of the younger sidekicks clenched his teeth and took a few steps forward, about ready to knock a few teeth out before he was stopped by one of the older policemen, who then motioned with his head to the growing crowd of bystanders, and worse reporters, that was slowly closing in on them.

The civilians were getting angry, some were shouting for child services to step in.

The reporters looked ravenous.

The yakuza did not miss this, turning on his heel to shout towards the news crews, “Hey! These assholes are holding a little girl captive!”

“Wh-wait one second you bastard-!”

“We’re trying to get her out but they won’t let us through!” And on he went riling up the crowd, shouting and bellowing until everyone within ear shot was chanting and screaming for them to let the girl out, the reporters catching everything on camera.

Just before everything went out of control, both the sidekick and the officer felt a thin hand on their shoulder, belonging to one Nighteye, who walked into the middle of the chaos with nary a hair out of place, “I am here to answer any questions and to clear up any confusion.”

With that the chaos honed in on him, the reporters swarming him with question while the general public tossed out insults his way, the barrier of sidekicks and police barely holding them back, and finally one reporter managed to raise his voice above the rest, “Sir Nighteye-san! Is it true that you are currently holding a child in your office!?”

“A small child is currently under the custody of the Nighteye Hero office, yes.”

Another pushed ahead, jabbing a microphone as close as he could to Nighteye’s impassive face, “And what connection does this child have to this group of yakuza!?”

“These gentlemen are all under the employ of a man by the name of Chisaki-san, who is under investigation by both the police and my hero office for several criminal activities,” Nighteye stopped to measure his next words, “The child is Chisaki’s.”

Yet another reporter stabbed a mic in his face, to no reaction, “Does the child and your custody of them have anything to do with these allegations!?”

“No,” Was the cold and cutting answer, “The child’s existence was unknown to us until two of my interns ran into them on the street, covered in bandages and scared out of their wits. My interns then decided that the best course of action would be take bring them back here.”

“Which interns!? Are they from UA!? Are you accusing Chisaki-san of child abuse!?”

“All I can say on the matter is that it has been decided by both the police force and the government that until, and if, all the accusation against Chisaki-san have been cleared, that his child will remain under the custody of my office and UA academy.” He then directed an ice cold glare across the crowd, focusing on every yakuza there, “And as such everyone here that isn’t a police officer or a hero is trespassing,” All the previously shouting civilians quieted and all the yakuza clenched their fists but did nothing, “So I would ask all of you to cease this racket and leave, and know that we have the right to detain anyone who refuses.”

It took some time, but soon the crowd dispersed, leaving only a few select yakuza behind…including one with a white bird mask.

He and Nighteye locked glares for one tense moment before a buzzing in the masked man’s pocket made him break it, taking out a ringing phone which he answered. After a quick talk the man gave one last look towards the hero before turning on his heel and leaving, the rest of his companions following suit.

Nighteye patted the back of a few police and sidekicks, “Keep up the good work, you will soon receive assistance from other hero offices, stay watchful until then.” He waited for the round of nods before he went back inside his office, the first thing he sees being Bubble clutching a phone worriedly.

“It’s a call sir,” She said, gulping loudly, “It’s Chisaki.”

“What? Well then why don’t you give it to-”

“He wants to speak with Midoriya.”    

A stilled silence enveloped the room before Nighteye plucked the phone from Bubble’s hand and placed it near his ear.

“You honestly must have a fair amount of confidence to contact my office and demand an intern, Chisaki-san, or would you prefer Overhaul?” Sir said.

“Chisaki, please. I’m calling about the welfare of my daughter.” Chisaki said far too calmly. It send a dull chill down Sir’s spine. “Now get me that green brat or things will get… inconvenient.”

Nighteye glared slightly at the phone before he walked through his office to get to Izuku, who was finally able to get Eri to release her grip on his suit, even if she reattached herself to his arm as Sir came in.

“It’s him.” Nighteye stated, gauging the reaction as both tensed, Eri more so as she began to shiver again. Izuku looked to her before his gaze hardened and reached for the offered phone.

“Hello?” Izuku gulped.

“Finally. I was wondering what was taking Nighteye, or if he was stalling,” Chisaki said, calm, but Izuku felt he was sitting on a time bomb as he continued. “You’ve really tested my patience today, boy. We should have had that pleasant chat in the alley. Now listen well: I want Eri back, and you will return her to me. Simple, right?”

Izuku felt Eri’s grip tighten as she continued shaking. A quick glance to Mirio had him at her side rubbing her back to calm her as he responded. “Why is she so important to you?”

Chisaki grunted at the question. “She’s my daughter. Why else would I need her back?”

“The way you acted around her says otherwise.” Izuku felt his blood boil as One for All instinctively coursed in his head as he deliberated on everything he could think of. “Contrary to what you did, any parent would have immediately apologized to his or her child. Instead, you tried to get her and us away from public view. Meaning that you don’t want anyone to know of her existence.” The Ninth Bearer was mumbling in his head on reasons for why. And then he realized the one thing that made sense.

“That’s absurd.” He heard Chisaki respond. “How I raise Eri is no-”

“It’s her Quirk, isn’t it?” the room and line went quiet. “Her Quirk is something that you or your organization needs. Eri-chan looks to be four, maybe five years old, and no news has shown recent outbreaks in Yakuza activity, meaning that it only recently manifested and you’ve been doing something to her to use it for your own means.” Izuku felt his hand clench around the phone. “And considering your own Quirk… that’s two charges of Quirk abuse, tripled on the use of a minor. And on the likelihood Eri-chan isn’t yours, that’s another count for kidnapping and possible murder all wrapped in child abuse.”

“You…!” He heard Chisaki seethe. “You’re a case of Hero Syndrome that’s rare; coupled with an internal bleeding heart. I was going to make it simple and quick, but now I’m going to be sure to go as painstakingly slow as I can. Shigaraki may just beg for it to end.”

“Shigaraki!?” Izuku felt his breathing stall in his throat.

“So you do know him.” Chisaki chuckled. “And here I thought he was just a head case. Oh, speaking of heads, do you know how long the brain can survive on a normal human after decapitation?”

Izuku grit his teeth as he glared furiously at the phone.

“Twelve seconds. But thanks to my expertise, I’ve managed to extend it to… oh, about thirty minutes. Shigaraki was more than open to have your head on a platter for our meeting. And you know what the best part is?” Chisaki rasped in a harsh whisper. “I’m going to make Eri watch every agonizing second of your suffering, so she will never escape from me again.”

Izuku bolted to his feet as One for All swirled in his core. “You will never get near her. You hear me!?” His fist crushed the phone in his anger.

That anger quickly washed away as he felt the small shivering hands on his own. Looking back to Eri, her tears shed anew. He heart clenched and he picked her up and comforted her. “It’s going to be fine, Eri-chan…” he whispered to ease her whimpering, before looking back to Mirio and Nighteye. “We need to get to UA. No offense, Sir, but your office might not be structurally sound enough to withstand a potential raid.”

“Your assumption, while crass, holds merit, Midoriya.” Nighteye nodded. “My employees specialize in Intel, though several can and will hold their ground.”

Mirio nodded, standing tall. “And Recovery Girl can check Eri over, just in case.”

Izuku sighed as he began to feel lightheaded. “Good… that’s… gu-” he began to collapse on the ground, the world going black around him.

Chisaki held the phone in his hand, listening to the dull ring that signaled a lost connection with a lazy gaze. If he had to hazard a guess, judging by the boy’s tone of voice and the last thing getting through the call being the sound of plastic cracking under pressure, he’d have to say the boy crushed the phone in his grip in response to his words.

So, he found a weakspot, good.

With a lazy twitch of a finger he hang up from the call, before tapping a new number in, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the table as he waited for the call to connect.

It took two rings before Chronostasis picked up, “Yes Boss.”

“Any movement to report?”

A quick pause followed, “More police cars showed up. About twenty. Two armored.”

Overhaul continues drumming his fingers on the table, humming absently, “Hero support?”

Another pause, “On the way, about five minutes. Reports say either the Fatgum or Ryukyu offices.”

“Your take?”

“Both.”

“Anyone leave the building?”

“Not y-Wait.” Overhaul’s fingers stop, “I see a few people heading towards the armored car…I can’t see them very well, hold on…” A charged silence followed on the line, “…Eri is with them, and they’re moving her.” A shuffling sound could be heard through the line, “I can send a few grunts to slow them down, went to send some Expendables over?”

“No.”

“Sir? They’re probably taking her to UA! If they get her there we won’t-”

“Anyone we send in won’t be able to accomplish anything before the other heroes show up,” Was the measured, calm response, “And losing too many men would put us at a disadvantage during the meeting with Shigaraki.” He leans back on his chair, “Let her go, we’ll get her out of there, along with the green haired brat, don’t you worry.”

“…You have a plan boss?”

Overhaul threw a glance at a file on his desk, no name on it or any other features to see, “What kind of question is that?” He cracked his neck at the sound of someone entering his room, “Just get back here, I’ll give you the details.”

With that he hung up, slowly putting down the phone and looking up to meet his guest, the broad muscular form of one of his Eight Expendables, Rappa.

“So, wanted to see me boss?” The large man crossed his arms and looked down the large nose of his mask at Overhaul, not an ounce of respect to be found on either his posture or voice, “I’ve been wanting to have another go at you.”

Chisaki could hear the manic grind of the man’s teeth moving against eachother to form a grin behind his mask, he absently rubbed the scar on his forehead in response, “Not today Rappa, I have a mission for you.”

“I wasn’t asking!”

A few things happened. First, Rappa threw a punch directly at Overhaul’s head. Second, Rappa lost his head. And thirdly, he got that head back. The sudden rush made him stumble back, clutching his skull in pain.

He was vaguely aware that he was missing a tooth, “Motherfucker.”

“As I was saying,” The yakuza boss went on with only the slightest edge of annoyance coloring his tone as he casually flicked aside what looked to be a molar, “I have a mission for you Rappa,” He reached for the folder and stretched out his arm to give it to the larger man, who was still clutching his head in pain as he took it, “You might have heard that Eri was stolen from us.”

Rappa laughed as he opened the folder without looking at it, “Yeah, made my day, heard some brat caught ya’ with your pants down!” Rappa looked down at the folder, his laughing stopped dead, “…the fuck is this?”

“My daughter was taken from me,” Overhaul started, calm as a corpse, “My family, you could say,” He leaned back on his chair again, threading his fingers together, “And since my family was so cruely taken away from me, held captive where I can’t reach…” Something rotten crept into his voice, “It’s only fair that I repay in kind.”

Rappa looked over the folder, inside was a single file, a few details about a person, along with a picture.

The picture was of a middle aged women with green hair, pulled into a tight single bun. The file gave the picture a name:

Midoriya Inko.

[noraemon]

love lies bleeding; 1

↠ may love, we pray, like amaranthine flowers, feel no decay

↠ you were desperate and you didn’t know which for -- revenge or life?

↠ taehyung x reader, angst, vampire!au, mature :: warnings: swearing, graphic depictions of violence and blood

✑  5k :: prologue

You were woken up by a loud thud. A loud thud that was caused by you, more specifically your forehead coming into contact with the faux wood of the table you shared with Jimin. You quietly winced in pain because fuck, that hurt and sent daggers to the silver haired boy on your left. 

He simply giggled and continued jotting down notes on the lecture you had given up listening to about an hour ago, deciding to take a much needed nap with your chin propped up in the palm of your hand. It turned out to be a bad idea because it caused all this unwanted attention. People around you gave both you and Jimin questioning looks but you could only give them apologetic smiles and before pretending to pay attention to whatever the professor was saying. “You really wanna pick a fight, Park Jimin?” Your voice hushed. The said boy leaned towards you, still focused on the lecture. “You’re gonna regret not paying attention, Y/N,” Jimin whispered and stood up straight again, ignoring your glare. You knew he was right. But you knew that he knew it wouldn’t make you continue your notes. Working full time at a bustling restaurant had taken up all your energy to do anything and everything. Your feet hurt, your back hurt, and god did your head pound from being overworked and having little to no sleep.  The lecture ended after what seemed like an eternity and Jimin had to practically drag you out of the auditorium because your feet were on the verge of giving up on you. “Want me to drive you home?” “God, yes please Jimin. I’m gonna get shanked on the bus if I fall asleep.” He chuckled and continued to guide you through the crowd to the parking lot. The sun was long gone and what welcomed you was the cool night air and the full moon. “Jimin, wait.” You halted him from going into the dark and endless abyss of cars, making the boy turn back to look at you. “What is it?” “Let me rest for a second. My feet still hurt from running around earlier today,” you slipped your hand out of his hold and carefully sat down on the concrete sidewalk. You thanked yourself for putting on sandals before coming to the lecture and rubbed the soles of your feet. The packed restaurant you worked at were short on staff today so you had to serve more customers than usual (who were all, sadly, scattered around the diner). 

Jimin squatted down and faced his back to you, “Get on, I’ll carry you back to my car.” 

You looked at him hesitantly but accepted his offer, climbing onto his back and thanking him. You circled his neck with your arms and he hooked his under your thighs. If you had to be honest with yourself, you loved getting piggybacks from Jimin (despite this only being the second time). His back was warm and he smelled like clean laundry. But you wouldn’t admit that nor would you request for it. God, he’d tease you without end about it and would most likely call you an adult baby.

“You gained some weight,” he said and adjusted you as he walked next to a row of cars. “It’s a good thing.” He quickly added, making you chuckle. “Says the one who always diets and works out.” The boy was addicted to exercising. He only added the diet as a new part of his ‘workout’, much to your dismay. 

“Jimin, you’re skinny, like skinny to the point where your shoulder blade is digging into my boob and it fucking hurts.” You groaned. He roared, slightly surprised by your choice of words. “I’m not that skinny,” he shrugged, “My BMI’s a solid 19.8, which is in the healthy range if you didn’t know.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Jimin. You’re talking to an aspiring nurse who’s currently completing her pre reqs. I know what the hell a BMI is.” Your unintentional snap made him giggle. “I’m fine, Y/N. I just decided to cut some foods out of my daily life.” He was being stubborn. You knew you wouldn’t be able to change his mind and you knew why he was doing this. God, you’ve been friends since middle school and he still thinks you can’t read him.  “You’re still trying to get scouted?” “I guess you could say that. I gave a few people my contact info but they haven’t called back yet,” he told you. Jimin was a performing arts major. He was an amazing dancer, no doubt at all. You remembered him shyly inviting you to one of his performances at his dance academy when you were in middle school. It was honestly stunning; his expression, his movements, and knowing that he choreographed it himself, how could you put that into words? He was gifted with the power to express emotion through his actions and you have openly told him you envied him for that. He could dance many different styles and seemed to enjoy every one of them, too. But his particular favorites (that you found through extensive observation) were ballet and modern. Fast forward to the present and now he’s trying to get hired by a ballet company. Tapping your index finger against his ever protruding collar bone, you were instantly reminded of his insecurity about his weight and the cause of it. “Jimin, you’re an amazing dancer. You’re not fat or overweight. Don’t ever think that way because they’re proven facts by the JiminIsFuckingPerfect Organization ran by me.” He scoffed and adjusted you once more on his back, unintentionally stabbing you in the boob with his shoulder blade, again.  “Maybe it’s not the right time for you yet,” you continued, “Maybe the right company hasn’t come yet. Just be patient and stay positive. I know you’re gonna make it big.” You told him, meaning every word. You weren’t good at expressing your feelings and raked your brain for the right words to somewhat convey how you felt and thought. 

“Maybe,” he repeated and set you down on your feet. “Jimin,” you gave him a knowing look as he stood up and stretched. He just smiled and mumbled for you to get in his car. The car ride was quiet. He left on his radio and turned the volume to a minimum. The drive to your house would at least take twenty minutes since you lived on the other side of town but it gave you a small window of opportunity to rest. Reclining your seat back, you closed your eyes and gave in to the temptation of sleep. 

There was a nudge at your side and you groaned before turning away. Damn, it was not the time for this. 

“Wake up, Y/N. You’re home. Hurry up and go inside so you can sleep.” Jimin sighed and kept nudging you with his elbow. You stayed stagnant until light touches replaced his elbow on your side. “I’M UP.” You told him and shoved his hand away for the fear of being tickled again. He giggled at your reaction, sitting back in his seat. “See you tomorrow?” He reminded you about his performance at the local theater (which you had forgotten about but in your defense, you hadn’t had a second of rest this whole week). You thankfully had already requested for the day off tomorrow so you could study for physiology, which you hated with a passion and struggled with most. It wouldn’t hurt to take a tiny break between studying, right? “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Thanks for the ride,” you smiled, reaching over to the driver’s side to give him a quick hug before exiting the car and going up the stairs of your porch. Once Jimin saw you get inside your house, he left with a honk of his horn, making you chuckle. You couldn’t wait to jump into bed and fall back asleep but it seemed like there were already plans waiting for you. The sudden sound of glass shattering made you halt from taking off your sandals. You quickly went to the living room where the sound kept coming from and widened your eyes in horror as you saw your mother’s boyfriend swinging a steel bat at the photos on the sofa table. Your eyes wandered around the living room to look for your mother and found her kneeling on the ground behind the couch, silently crying. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing in our house?!” You shouted. He stopped his actions and looked at you before pointing at your mother behind the couch. “That bitch you call your mother is cheating on me! I saw her talking to a guy in front of her office!” He was extremely possessive, delusional even and you couldn’t understand why your mother still stayed with him. Maybe it was out of fear or pity, you could only guess. “I wasn’t cheating on you! That was my little brother’s friend. He came to me to ask about getting an internship at the place I work at!” Your mother cried. “Stop lying, you fucking whore! I know you’re hiding something from me!” He threw his bat against the wall and stomped towards your mother. The dent in the wall was the least of your worries and you instinctively jumped in front of your mother to protect her from the psychotic wrath of the man she claimed she loved. “If you touch her, I’ll fucking kill you with my bare hands.” You spat angrily. The threat didn’t seem to faze him, only making him laugh. “You? You think you can kill me? I’d like to see you try,” he had wild eyes that could only be filled with psychotic thoughts and harmful intentions. Then there was a click. You froze at the sound, knowing or rather assuming what could be behind his back. “Come at me and see what happens. I’m tired of you always letting your mother get away from the beatings she deserves.” Fucking hell, he was a psychotic bastard and you were pissed at your mother for all the times she took him back. Maybe your heart was going to fail from pent up frustration before your physiology grade at this rate. You stayed still. Your mother shook behind you as she, too, knew what could only be behind his back. She held your hand as tightly as she could with her unsteady ones and started to cry once more. “Shut up, bitch! You have nothing to cry about!” The both of you flinched. Damn, you were terrified but kept up the brave front for your mother. You knew that if you crumbled, she would also crumble, which would be bad for the both of you. He then pulled out his silver revolver, pointing it straight at you. Shit, shit, shit. You took in a long and jagged breath as you kept staring at the gun in his hand. “Move before I fucking make you. Right now.” Your feet stood planted in their spot. It probably didn’t matter if you moved or not. He hated your guts from the moment you stepped into his and your mother’s first fight, where you threatened to call the cops. “Y-Y/N.. Move b-before Jinho shoots. I’ll be f-fine.” Your mother whispers to you. You shook your head, afraid that if you spoke, you’d stutter and break the front you had gathered up the courage to make. You pulled your hands from her and held your palm out, hoping that she’d take the hint. And in no time, she handed you what seemed to be like your old baseball from when you played during high school. “Duck when I throw it.” “What are you two whispering about?! I’ll kill you if you don’t fucking move!” You released the breath you unknowingly held and threw the ball as hard as you could without a second thought. The ball came into contact with his eye and humorously bounced back to you, which you quickly caught. “Fuck! You stupid bitch!” He screamed and held his eye, trying to point at you with his gun. “No, don’t hurt Y/N!” Your mother brushed passed you and tried to take the gun away from Jinho. “Mom! What the hell are you doing?!” 

“Run, Y/N! I’ll hold him off and come later,” She said. Just as you were standing up to protest, Jinho shoved her away and quickly aimed at you before shooting. 

Maybe it was just you but it felt like everything was moving slowly, as if you could’ve dodged the bullet if you jumped to the side.There was a loud ringing in your ears though you weren’t even close to the gun. An invisible force pushed you back and you had a second of questioning if you were the one who was shot - that is until a surging pain came from the right side of your chest. You immediately clasped your hand on the wound and tried to ignore the burning feeling that lingered. “Y/N!” Your mother cried. It was getting harder to breathe and you knew it went through your lung. At this point, your lung could collapse at any moment. The hysterical crying and screaming of your mother was was being drowned out but you heard another round being shot. You saw your mother fall to the ground, the hard thud sending vibrations through the wood floor to your feet. “Mom,” was the only thing you thought of at that moment. You knees buckled and you fell to the ground, using whatever strength you had left to reach your mother. Mom, mom, you called her over and over again. Her body was still warm but she laid unmoving. She might’ve been in shock, you thought, she might’ve passed out. You pulled her onto her back and tried to find where the bullet entered her. Tears had spilled from the crevices of your eyes and blurred your vision as you feared the unthinkable. Scanning her body, you saw through your blurred vision a large patch of red on the left side of her chest. Jinho was long gone but you could give two fucks right now. “No.. mom, mom, please be okay. Please wake up.” You cried, shaking her. Breathing was almost painful and you tried your best to regulate it. You choked on your tears as you began to feel your chest tighten up. You started coughing not long after and dear god was it fucking painful. The horrid taste of iron filled your mouth and you turned to quickly spit out the blood that was most likely coming from the puncture in your lung. “If you live from this, what will you do?” A pair of black oxfords suddenly came into your view and you slowly looked up to find the owner. Blinking the remainder of your tears away, you were met with the mysterious gaze of a rather handsome blonde haired male. “I’m gonna go find the bastard who did this to my mom and I’m gonna kill him,” You coughed, expelling more blood. “Sounds exciting,” he mused. “If you give me some of your blood, I’ll make that happen.” You looked at him like he was crazy. You were probably losing at least a liter of blood and would die soon from either a collapsed lung or blood loss but here he was, asking for whatever blood you had left. “W-what?” He sighed and kneeled down to you before grabbing your chin. The male wiped the remainder of your tears away and looked you in the eyes. “So how about it? In exchange for some blood, I’ll save your life? I promise you that you’ll be able to get your revenge and even more... but that’s only if you’re willing to give me some of your blood.” He wiped the blood dripping from your chin. None of this seemed right. It was sudden and you didn’t know why he wanted your blood so much. However, if he could save you and help you kill the psycho roaming on the streets right now, then you’d give anything to him. You were desperate and you didn’t know which for-- revenge or life? Maybe life to get revenge? “Alright, you can have my blood. Just-- promise me you’ll help me find and kill that bastard,” You breathed out and looked him in the eyes. He gave you a faint smile. “I promise I will.” You continued to stare into his eyes for some reason and as you watched, his irises transitioned from a deep chocolate brown to an icy blue. Your lids suddenly felt heavy and the overbearing heat soon faded into a cool air– like the one you experienced just that night while on Jimin’s back.

“Do you know what you did? You created a bond with her.” You kept your eyes closed. The duvet placed over you was warm and openly invited you back to sleep. “Yeah, I know what I did. So what? She was dying and wanted revenge, just like--” “I don’t care. Are you not hearing me right? You created a fucking bond with her. As in you have a connection with her now. Like an emotional connection. And when I say emotional, I mean you both can feel each other’s emotions-- for God’s sake, you’re mates now!” “It’s not a big deal.” “Not a big deal?” the voice let out a dry laugh.

“Taehyung, think about how many people are going to be after her!” That’s it. You gave up on sleep and tried sitting up to see what all the arguing was about. Just a few seconds into having your head off the fluffy pillow, a sudden shot of pain went through your body, igniting a fire to your skin. You winced and cursed under your breath. “Make sure she gets back into bed. I’ll go get Seokjin.” A door was opened then quickly closed. “What’re you doing up? Lay down, you’re not supposed to use your body yet.” A hand came out to brush away the strands of hair covering your face. The voice was calm and smooth like chocolate; it gave you an unexpected feeling of reassurance in an unknown place with strangers. Peering up to look at the owner of the hand, it was the same blonde haired male who was at your house. He put a hand on your shoulder and gently pushed you down to get you into bed again. You winced as you tried to settle back into the bed. “It hurts like hell.” was what came to mind. “I said the same thing, too,” he chuckled, “it’ll go away once you’re used to my blood.” “You gave me a blood transfusion? Wait-- who are you and where am I? How did you know what type I was? ” Your questions came out in the wrong order. “Sleep. We’ll tell you everything later,” he gave you a small smile. You find yourself staring into his eyes a second time and the same icy blue greeted you before your eyelids felt heavy and you were once again in sleep.

Maybe it was the incessant sound of tapping or the terrible stench of roses or the overly warm duvet covering your body but you begrudgingly opened your eyes. The white marble ceiling coming into view reminded you that this place wasn’t home. And upon curiosity (and slight panic), you slowly sat up in bed to try and scan your surroundings. 

You were weary of feeling the hellish burn that welcomed you the last time you tried to sit up but you sighed in relief when it thankfully didn’t come back. The only thing that had come was a throbbing headache and the soreness of your muscles. “You’re finally awake.” an unfamiliar voice spoke. You eventually identified it as a man with rose gold hair as he walked towards the foot of the bed you were in. To say he was handsome was an understatement because wow, was he a beautiful specimen of man. “How are you feeling?” “Better than last time.” “No pain? Does it hurt anywhere?” “Just a headache and sore muscles.” “Thirsty or hungry?” “Not really. I’m just wondering how and why I’m here.” He chuckled at your forwardness. “Can I check your wound first? To see if it’s healed properly.?” You had to think for a second about what wound he was talking about until you realized he was referring to that wound, the only recent wound you had. Sudden flashes of scarring memories went through your mind and you began to panic. “Wait - what about my mom? What happened aft–” “Calm down, Y/N. We’ll tell you everything in a bit. Right now, we need to make sure the wound under your collarbone is healed. Can you–” you instinctively scooted away from the man who was approaching your side. 

“How do you know my name? Why am I here?” you asked a little louder. “She’s getting scared Jin, back off.” a low voice growled. The broad back of the blonde haired male was suddenly being wedged between you and the person, Jin, who was trying to touch you. “If the wound isn’t completely healed then it’s a sign that she’s still not–” “I don’t care. She’s scared right now. She’s in a room with people she doesn’t even know and she’s defenseless.” There was a brief pause before a sigh escaped from the pink haired latter. “You’re right. Sorry, I got ahead of myself.” The back slowly slipped away and the male protecting you stood by your side. “My name’s Seokjin and I’m sorry, Y/N for trying to force something onto you. It’s been a bit chaotic here and I haven’t had enough rest for the past week.” The pink haired male ran a hand over his face before rubbing his temples. “It’s okay.. just-- can I have I my questions answered first?” SeokJin looked hesitantly at the male beside you. “A few questions won’t hurt.” “Alright. What did you want to know, Y/N?” “How do you know my name?” “I’m a doctor. It would look bad if I didn’t know my patient’s name.” “Where am I?” “At my house.” The blonde male answered. “Who’s this guy?” you gesture to the guy next to you. “I’m Kim Taehyung. The guy that saved you.” the blonde answered before SeokJin could. “Why am I at your house and not the hospital?” The two males looked at each other. SeokJin was the one to answer after the long pause. “This isn’t something you can cure per se in a hospital but we did have to take the bullet out, if you’re wondering. It just requires... well, waiting.” 

“Okay, then who’s that guy over there?” You noticed a male sleeping peacefully in the corner of the room on a lounge chair. “That’s Kim Namjoon. Ignore him.” Taehyung told you. The pink haired male interrupted you before you could ask more questions. “And I think that’s enough questions for now, Y/N. We need to make sure the woun–” the familiar burn went across your skin and you sucked in a breath. “That’s why we should’ve checked on it sooner.” Seokjin sighed. “Can you pull down the collar of your shirt for me? So I can check the wound?” He gestured to your shirt. You hesitantly nodded your head and complied to his request. He came closer and inspected the injury, a sigh immediately escaping his lips. “Taehyung, it’s still not finished healing.” “What? We don’t have much time. We need it healed now.” You could practically feel the blonde male’s frustration and impatience. “That’s not going to happen anytime soon but if you want to speed up the healing process a little bit, I suggest you give her some blood.” There was a long pause. “Why would healing a wound require giving blood?” You asked, breaking the silence. The pain was still lingered and shit, did it it feel like someone was raising Hell onto your body. It was like those aches you’d get when you worked your limbs too hard but tenfold that and add a fucking fire to it. You shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Look, Y/N. Taehyung’s gonna tell you something you might’ve never believed in but you’re going to have to believe in it if you want that godawful pain to go away, okay?” Seokjin seemed pained just mentioning it, like he experienced it before and you furrowed your eyebrows, bringing the duvet closer to your body. “Okay.” was all you said. “Alright,” Taehyung moved from your side and sat next to your feet on the bed, “Don’t think what I’m about to say is a joke because I hardly ever joke.” “He’s right.” Seokjin added. You looked back at Taehyung, his dark orbs speaking millions of things before his mouth could. They were searching for something in yours, though you didn’t know what exactly for. “I’m a… we’re vampires,” he referred to everyone in the room, “You’re also one.” Wait, what. Thoughts ran in your head, including one questioning if you’d ever be able to see the sun again. “Before you say anything, let me explain a little,” the blonde breathed out. You could feel that he didn’t know where exactly to start. And he had a right to feel so. Who would know where to begin when they have to break the news to someone that they were vampires? Hey, I bit you and made you a vamp. Be thankful you’ll live forever or some shit? It certainly seemed like something that didn’t happen often enough to know how to explain the situation to. “I saved you by letting you have some of my blood. Vampire blood is different from human blood and it’s the only way a human can turn into a vampire. That might be confusing right now but it’ll make more sense when you… actually experience it.” he hesitantly spoke the last part but his eyes never left yours. “How bad is the pain, Y/N?” SeokJin asked. “Really, really bad.” You breathed. You could feel the cold sweat you were breaking out in and questioned how you were even able to maintain your sanity when the pain was so unbearable. “So you’re desperate to get rid of it?” “God, yes.” Taehyung’s hand came out slowly to pat away the droplets on your forehead. You gave him a small smile as a show of thanks for his thoughtfulness. “Do you trust me?” Taehyung asked. You hesitated to answer for a bit, your brain contradicting with your heart. He was a stranger but you felt safe around him? Was that even possible? “Yes.” Your heart outweighed your mind. “Then bite my neck.” “What?” “Trust me, Y/N. Just let your instincts take over,” he said and scooted closer to you. “It’ll be okay, you’ll be okay.” Taehyung pulled you closer by your arm until your face was against his chest. He smelled of lavender laundry detergent which was a pleasant surprise. He looked like the type to wear a musky and earthy cologne.

“We’ll give you guys some privacy,” Seokjin goes to Namjoon before pulling him out of the room and shutting the door. You could hear the childlike protests coming from Namjoon on the other side of the door, making you chuckle. He said something along the lines of wanting to keep dreaming about his adventure with a live Ryan doll that could time travel.

“Alright, you better hurry up and take a bite before the pain is too much and I’d have to do it for you, again.” Taehyung said, mumbling the last part.

“Okay.” you breathed out before sitting up straight and finding a comfy spot to settle yourself into. It was awkward to say the least. You were never this intimate with someone before, let alone a stranger.

He was wearing a flimsy tee shirt similar to the one you wore, meaning he must’ve been the one who provided you an extra pair of clothes… including underwear? You shook your head and tried to focus again.

‘Why am I overthinking this? I just have to bite his neck, that’s it. Wait, does that mean I’ll be drinking his blood? Is that he meant when--’

“You’re hesitating. Did you want me to--”

“No!” You said a little too loud, quickly biting your lip afterwards. “It’s fine. I was just contemplating about how to go about it...” You coughed, feeling more embarrassed.

“I’ll start you off, then.” Taehyung raised a hand to his neck. He was trying to break his skin and it made you wince at the sight.

“Alright,” he said, revealing a line of blood rolling down his neck. And in that instant, your senses heightened. You could hear the steady beats of Taehyung’s heart and the quiet talking from behind the door where Namjoon and Seokjin stood behind, waiting for you to finish. But what overwhelmed you most was the smell of his blood. 

God, how could you describe it? You were conscious of the iron smell but it was somehow… pleasant? Was that possible? You didn’t know. But what you did know was that it made your head hazy just looking at it and your mind was slowly filled with the thought of drinking his blood.

“Let your instincts take over.” Taehyung said once more. And you were more than happy to.

You tugged him by his shirt and nestled into the crook of his neck. Just as the droplet of blood fell to his collar bone, you licked the trail of blood before stopping just below the wound he made. You could feel fangs starting to form and carefully bit into his neck. His hands instantly gripped at the shirt you wore.

It only took a second for the haze to disappear and the constant fire burning your skin to slowly burn out. The taste of Taehyung’s blood reminded you of taking an espresso shot. It was bitter, warm, rich, and forced you out of your somewhat lethargic state. It was addicting to say the least but the tug on your hip reminded you to not suck all of his blood out. You slowly pulled away and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Feel better?”

“Much better.” You breathed.