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jooniperbonsai · 2 months

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My Bloody Valentine (jjk)

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x human reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 13.9k

Release date: Thurs. February 15, 2024

Genre: smut, fluff, humor, hella angst

Summary: You don't understand why your vampire boyfriend is so caught up in the idea of a silly holiday, until you realize it's about more than just candy hearts.

Warnings: Blood (duh), swearing, blood drinking, lots of angst, allusion to jungkook being bisexual, alcohol, brief description that sounds similar to disordered eating, jungkook is clingy and kind of a brat, so is reader tbh, accusations/assumptions of cheating, both are conflict avoidant which makes things worse, discussions of death and infertility, references to opiate addiction, medical theft, uh y/n kind of non-consensually feeds jungkook her blood, oral sex (m/f), masturbation (m/f), fingering, temperature play, unprotected rough sex, clit spanking, biting kink (!!!! just be warned lol), choking, dirty talk, mention of menstrual sex/oral kink, mention of somnophilia, creampie

a/n: Hi! Happy (late) Valentine’s Day! Thank you all for your enthusiastic support for this fic. I hope it exceeds your expectations (as it exceeded mine). I have some extra thoughts that I’ll leave at the end of this fic to avoid spoilers, but I hope you enjoy my little y/n and vampire Jungkook couple as much as I do. I would like to thank p for talking this universe through with me until it made sense.

“All I’m saying is that Halloween hardly feels like a holiday about vampires!”

“As opposed to what? Christmas?”

You’ve been standing in your kitchen arguing with your boyfriend for so long that the once-scalding cup of coffee in your favorite mug is now cold. Jungkook is sitting on the bar stool against the counter, his white shirt rolled up his forearms to reveal a similar pale shade underneath. You can see the corded tendons of his arms flex as he wrings his hands together in frustration.

When you woke up this morning, it was not from a lazy well-slept haze you were expecting to have. Instead, you had awoken to a crash coming from the kitchen, sending your heart jolting as you tried to make sense of the world and the source of the noise.

Buttercup, your cat and usual suspect for mischief, mewled angrily from her perch as she, too, eyed the wrongfully accused sleep disruptor. As she arched her back in one long, tail-shaking stretch, she glared at you and then twirled herself around to face the wall before settling back into her bed with a final huff.

If it wasn’t Buttercup, then it could only be one other creature.

You’d padded your way down the hall to the kitchen, only to see Jungkook already dressed and swearing to himself as he gathered the shattered pieces of a glass measuring cup and what looked like orange juice into a pile with a wet dish rag.

“Don’t come any closer!” he shrieked, and before you could even open your mouth to assure him you’d be fine, he'd already swooped you into the living room and onto the couch. “Don’t move!” he ordered and because you heard the sharp warning creeping into his tone, you obeyed.

An hour and a half later, the kitchen is a mess from what you now understand to be Jungkook’s attempt at cooking you breakfast for Valentine’s Day, a holiday that you both agreed you wouldn’t celebrate.

You take a sip of your coffee, trying not to wince at how it still somehow tastes burnt through the too-sweet pink sugar cookie creamer he’d doused it with when he insisted on making you a cup.

“No, of course not. Y/N! But don’t you think Valentine’s Day should be more about vampires?”

You snort, and the residual coffee on your tongue shoots to the back of your throat, sending you into a coughing fit.

“What?” You say when you finally regain composure. You set down the mug and glance around for a single cup in your kitchen that hasn’t been dirtied in this process of making…well…you’re not sure what. There’s some burnt edges of something in the sink, but a weird goo glazing various bowls that somewhat resembles pancakes. However, a bright green lump of…maybe spinach?...rests in those as well, so you’re not entirely confident where he was going with this execution.

Jungkook isn’t usually this oblivious to human tendencies, mostly because it wasn’t so long ago that he himself was a human. In the year you’ve been together, you’ve learned all about Jungkook’s swift descent into vampirism. Unlike many of his kind, he’s a fledgling. He was turned a handful of years ago and doesn’t exist in the ancient, strange accents and customs form of vampire some know. Nor is he a sleepless, sparkly teenager with superhuman speed. Yes, he has fangs, is paler than the normal person, and he will not (you think) age. But as someone who has maintained his twenty-something appearance, this currently presents as a non-issue because, if still alive, he would still be a twenty-something.

And unlike the stereotypes of his kind, Jungkook is not in a decades-long bloodlust. Lust, perhaps, but it’s unknown if that’s because of his vampirism or because he’s a horny man. The one who changed Jungkook did so in a dark night club in Paris between searing hot kisses, where he slid his fangs along Jungkook’s throat while rutting against him on the dance floor. Jungkook, in that drunk and sex-induced haze, never suspected that the slight sharpness tracing along his jugular, sending a delicious chill down his spine, would result in him waking up three days later in a hotel in Vienna with nothing more than a vague note of warning and a few plastic bags of blood chilling in the mini fridge.

While he doesn’t consume much now beyond A or O positive, Jungkok often cooks you meals so you’re not as tired when you get home from work. It’s sweet, but you know that he does it for himself, for the reminder of his humanity and, as he once admitted himself, for the fact that more energy saved from you not cooking means more energy for him to fuck out of you seven days a week.

“I’m going to need you to explain your reasoning behind that logic,” you say, and finally locate a clean cup to fill with water.

Jungkook grunts, and when you glance over at him, you can see he's pouting, his dual lip rings pulled under one of his fangs.

“Well,” he says, tense, “I just thought…with all this stuff, Valentine’s Day should be more about, you know, vampires? Blood? Red? Hearts?”

“Baby,” you laugh, and fish around on the cluttered countertop for something to eat until you spot a bowl of strawberries tucked behind a jar of kimchi. Your stomach growls. “Valentine’s Day uses the heart motif because of love. You know that. You weren’t born yesterday.”

He rolls his eyes in annoyance and you furrow your brow before popping the sweet fruit into your mouth. What is going on with him today?

“Yes, I know I wasn’t born yesterday! Thank you for the reminder! But I’m saying that Halloween is this holiday that makes vampires into these beasts who suck and drain all the blood from bodies or sleep in coffins! Beware the dark corners of the world or else they’ll get you! But Valentine’s Day, what even is this about? A fat naked baby who spears you with an arrow and suddenly you’re in love with someone? Sounds way more monstrous to me! And people embrace this guy? People want him to stab them so they can be all fluttery in love and get all these nice things. But I have to be seen as this awful monster all the time? It’s just not fair!” he shouts, and swipes his hand across the counter.

You gasp as you watch an empty plastic container clatter to the ground before he brings his hands up to cover his face.

Jungkook isn’t one for temper tantrums. While he does have a tendency to be more sensitive, throwing things, even empty containers, is very out of the norm for him. You remember early on in your relationship, he once used a little too much of his supernatural strength to hit you with a pillow when you were both goofing off, which resulted in you being smacked right off the bed with the wind knocked out of you.

You spent the rest of the day posted up on the couch under his orders, while he waited on you hand-and-foot despite the fact that once you recovered (mostly from laughter), you were perfectly fine. It led to an eventual discussion about how you weren’t so breakable, where you proved your point by showing him just how flexible you were.

Which is why now, as Jungkook huffs all over the place, you know something is seriously wrong.

You move away from the strawberries and walk around the kitchen island to Jungkook, gently pulling his hands down.

“Hey,” you whisper, looking up at him. His hair has fallen into his face, disheveled from all his fussing in the kitchen and the many times this morning you’ve seen him running his fingers through it.

Jungkook yanks his hand away and stands, pushing away from the counter before stomping into the living room and pacing angrily. You follow him.

“Hey,” you try again, firmer. “You gonna tell me what is going on? Because normally you don’t leave a giant mess of whatever that is going on in the kitchen before you walk away from it, and you especially don’t walk away from me when I’m trying to talk to you.” Your jaw sets and you stand in the doorway, crossing your arms as you watch him pace.

He responds with a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, well that’s a start. Can’t even fucking cook my girlfriend a meal on this stupid holiday.”

This is exactly why you told Jungkook you don’t want to celebrate Valentine’s Day this year. All week long he’s been making snarky comments about it, from rants about the greeting card company’s agenda to explaining how it’s become over-the-top and overrated to now, as of this morning, promoting vampires as the superior holiday mascot to Cupid.

Truthfully, you’ve always liked this holiday. When all the post-holiday sales were running months ago, you’d noticed a deal on the record player Jungkook had been eying for months but would never let himself have. His last one had started to break right after you two started dating, but he was always a good sport about it, cracking jokes about how the old-timey canned sound it produced didn’t play Eminem, but “Eminesquire the Third”. Prompted by the desperate need to replace the tinny echoes that haunted your apartment, you didn’t hesitate to snag this gift for him and immediately wrapped it before shoving it under your bed to give to him today.

Well, that was until all this started a little over a week ago. Up until that point, he’d seemed fine, never mentioning an opinion on Valentine’s Day. Then one morning you woke up and saw him complaining about how since he turned he would never be able to eat chocolate again. Which was incredibly dramatic, because Jungkook can eat if he wants to, but he chooses not to since it doesn’t do anything for him anymore.

Every mention of the holiday since, from the ads popping up on his phone to the colorful heart shaped decorations in store fronts, has made him irate and hostile.

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on, but I didn’t ask you to make me breakfast,” you huff, now offset by his bad mood. “Like, I know that I told you last week we didn’t have to do any of this. So I’m not sure why now you’re trying to make some grand gesture of breakfast or stomping around arguing with me about the politics of vampires being a traditional mascot for Halloween instead of Valentine’s Day or how dumb you think this holiday is.”

His nostrils flare. “Well excuse me for trying to be a good boyfriend and do something nice for you!”

“What?” Heat flashes through your entire body as you feel the thin hold you have on your anger slip. “Oh, I see. So this is all about me is it? This is my fault? Tell me, when I go in there and clean up your mess of all my food you wasted by doing this nice thing I didn’t ask for, is that also for me as a treat? Or is that going to be leftover in the fridge for me to clean later?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow as you match his anger. He opens his mouth to speak, but you raise your eyebrow, daring him to try.

“Ah ah,” you warn, your voice laced with venom. “I’m not fucking done speaking.”

He slides his tongue over his teeth instead before sucking in his lips.

“So, after I noticed it hurt you and said we didn’t have to do it, after I promised you I didn’t mind if we skipped the theatrics of this holiday, you what? Took it out on me? How the hell is this being a good boyfriend, Jungkook? How is you shutting me out for the last week, pouting and being an absolute brat doing me any favors? Showing you love me?”

You begin to feel the fury recede into something worse: pain. It settles over the heat, moving back down into your throat with a sharp lump.

“You wanna talk about shutting someone out, Y/N? Really?” Jungkook roars, halting his anxious movement. “That’s rich considering the secrets you’re keeping!”

Your brain buzzes with confusion and anger. You rewind the conversation, trying to form connections that would lead to this accusation.

“Are you serious? Wh-Do you think I’m cheating or s-something? Jungkook who the fuck do you think–” Your voice cracks, and you heft a heavy sob from your chest.

Never in your relationship have you two ever suspected the other of cheating. You’ve always been so certain of each other, that you two would never stray, that your connection and the very nature of your relationship demonstrated a type of bond that didn’t present anyone else as an option simply because you never wanted anyone else.

But given how things have been going, how Jungkook has been hiding things from you, you are starting to wonder if that’s not the case, if him pulling away isn’t to try to protect himself from getting hurt.

You’ve also tried not to notice how this month, when you counted the inventory of the blood bags stashed in the back of the freezer, it wasn’t nearly as empty as it usually was. You considered that maybe Jungkook just wasn’t thirsty, that maybe some of the bags you’d snagged from work, one of them being plasma, were satiating his hunger more than usual. With how Jungkook is looking at you now, eyes wide with the shock of your address, you can see you were wrong, the faint circles of thirst tugging under his eyelids.

You pull your shirt sleeve up to wipe your dripping nose, only to see it’s stained blue from some mysterious breakfast ingredient.

“I’m not saying you’re cheating, Y/N! God why would you think that! Fuck, no, this.” He produces a folded up envelope from his back pocket and shoves it toward you.

You sniffle and take the envelope, noticing it’s addressed to you. From your work.

Your stomach sinks. You know exactly what that is. “You know what? I’m going to take a shower,” you mumble, and you see in your periphery Jungkook’s head snap toward you.

“What?” he says exasperated. “Now? We–”.

You nod, choosing not to look at him now as you cut down the hall and shut the bathroom door firmly behind you.

You and Jungkook met, ironically, at a blood drive.

You were both volunteering to hand out snacks and mini water bottles to donors at the drive. This was a few months before Jungkook had gone on his Eurotrip, a few months before he would never again be able to volunteer with clinics to help patients.

While you’d met back then, and certainly had some chemistry that resulted in one really sexy car makeout ending with his hand down your scrub pants and you panting into his neck, it wasn’t until a few years later you’d reunited.

Jungkook had been pacing around the clinic near closing time, his thirst becoming far more unbearable by the hour. He had been trying desperately to avoid consuming human blood, but the various city rats or injured birds he was drinking from were still racking him with unfavorable guilt and an almost hazy sickness you remember sinking his features.

When you went to leave that night, you’d spotted Jungkook propped up against one of the glass doors, pale, with heavy bruise-like markings under his eyes. He was conscious, you’d noted, despite the fact that you couldn’t detect a pulse and his skin felt harder and icy to the touch. When you grabbed your phone to call an ambulance, he knocked it from your hand, instead begging you for a bag of blood.

“I can’t do transfusions, Jungkook, not here. That’s why we need to get you the hospital, so we can you look you over and–”

“No, Y’N, that’s not what I mean.” He’d laughed and flashed you a weak smile. “I don’t need a transfusion.”

“Then, what––.”

And that’s when you saw them: his fangs.

When you’d heard about Jungkook going missing in Paris, randomly disappearing in the night and showing back up months later with no story to share, there were rumors circulating that he’d started doing drugs and lost his job at the record store because in Europe he got hooked on opiates.

And you’d so easily believed that lie, though it soured your stomach. What other explanation was there for someone disappearing and coming back more pale, less human? You simply continued on with your work, finishing school in between and finding a more permanent presence at the clinic as a phlebotomist.

Feeling guilty, you turned around and headed back into the building, emerging with two bags of warm blood that you watched him practically shotgun in the passenger seat of your car. You didn’t tell him it was your blood, but as he told you later, he knew anyway. He could smell your particular flavor dotting the bandage.

Slowly, you and Jungkook became closer, you swiped a blood bag here and there from the clinic when no one was looking, sitting with him as he told you the story of him turning or the first time he fed. It seemed too surreal to be true, but as the dark circles under his eyes began to fade over the weeks, and his laugh started sounding more round and full, you felt like there was no way you could deny who he was, or more importantly, how he made you feel.

Being around Jungkook was addicting, which was evident in how easy it became for you to steal blood from the clinic without thinking twice. At first, you felt awful, knowing that each bag you were taking could very well be taking away someone else’s chance at life. But the more you thought about Jungkook, how he was just as alive as any human– how he feathered his fingers through his hair or how just a few years ago he breathed and moaned before you in the backseat of your car– what really was the difference between giving him blood versus some other person? Didn’t both bodies need it to survive?

The months ran on, and the crisp fall days that welcomed Jungkook back into your life were becoming tender, warmer as the early blooms of spring replaced them. Jungkook, too, was warmer, his body full and flushed with blood as he finally returned to as much of a human as he can be, reaching for your hand when you two walked through the park together, or falling asleep on your stomach while watching a movie.

Vampires sleep, you learned, though it’s not so much necessary as it is habitual, as Jungkook explained. He once tested himself to see how long he could go without sleeping, and as it turned out, the answer was evidently forever, for he managed three weeks not feeling groggy in the slightest. But sleeping helped time pass. Nights were lonely when the only people he wanted to interact with weren’t around, and grappling with being some shade of immortal often led Jungkook into a spiral as he processed time passing.

Therefore, sleep was welcome when it came. Especially with you, who he could tuck himself close to, and the soft beat of your heart served as his lullaby.

That’s when you knew that you loved him: when he told you that he went to sleep for you, that otherwise, he waited for you to wake up so he could see you again.

You’d become just as addicting to be around as he was for you, and you trusted it wasn’t just because you were his favorite teller at the blood bank who snuck him a withdrawal.

It was because he loved you too.

The fog on the bathroom mirror doesn’t show your reflection currently, but if it did, you know you’d see Jungkook standing behind you silently as you brush your teeth. Despite his stillness and his ability to appear without making a sound when he wants, your body reacts to Jungkook like a magnet pulled toward metal.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks finally, and you rinse your mouth.

“Because, I didn’t want you to feel guilty,” you say and reach for the envelope you left on the bathroom counter before your shower.

After a year of sneaking blood from the clinic, one year of popping plastic bags your into pockets after writing them off under a sealing failure or manufacturing issue or recording less volume in the official donation records or claiming a miscount in inventory, you were finally caught last week with a warm bag of blood in your possession.

Stupidly, you’d popped it into your purse right before an end-of-day meeting and in the rush to make it on time, you didn’t zip everything closed securely. When you inevitably knocked your knee onto the table while shifting to get more comfortable, your purse tumbled to the floor, exposing the vermillion contents within, and issuing you an immediate suspension.

Suspension, instead of fire only for the singular fact that the bag of cooling blood was your own.

You had known for a while that the clinic’s director of operations was becoming suspicious. The entire team had been subject to instances of recertification and retraining to try to address whatever issues that were leading to so many mishaps. It would only be a matter of time before the records kept showing your name attached to these transgressions, though you were almost relieved when you’d learned there were other various cases of blood loss occurring for factors you weren’t responsible for, most notably some interns who kept forgetting to put the bags containing red blood cells in the refrigerator, or who were not filling the entire bags, disqualifying the entire sample.

Overall, it would be safer to divest from your current plan, but finding an alternative to feed Jungkook was more difficult than you thought. You knew given the shortage of blood donations, you could no longer keep gleaning from work or other affiliates as resources.

But you also couldn’t convince Jungkook to feed from you.

You’d tried many times in the last year when he was dizzy or grumpy from thirst. And every time without fail, he refused.

“I haven’t even bitten anyone before,” he admitted one day, the dark circles under his eyes especially purple. His stubborn refusal slurred his speech into a lisp. “And I don’t intend to start now! Especially not with you!”

You’d dropped the subject, rooting around in the freezer until you found a blocky pint underneath a tub of freezer-burned ice cream.

But Jungkook had drunk your blood before on that first night at the clinic. And maybe if you executed things carefully, you could supplement some packets of your own blood in to help him get by. That way, he wouldn't have to bite you, but at least he would be fed. And you wouldn’t be at risk of imprisonment for medical theft.

So that’s what you started to do, slowly introducing him to your blood by creating fake donor names with the label machine and reprinting the same barcode as you filled bag after bag over the weeks.

And then last week, you got caught, your only assurance that you might only be suspended rooted in the fact that you hadn’t had the time to issue a fake label for the bag before the meeting.

And, because the blood was still warm in its pouch, because your arm had only just stopped bleeding, your case that you made of the blood being yours wasn’t entirely unreasonable. But what no one could understand was why you needed a bag of your own blood in the first place, much less why you were doing your own draw of it.

They confiscated the bag, as well as a small sample you offered for lab comparison to confirm it was yours, and they sent you home with the letter almost like you were a kid who was in trouble at school.

Your suspension is in effect until the board meets later this week to discuss your case, at which time you’ll be informed if you’re terminated or if you’ll be put on probation.

You’ve accepted that you might be fired, but what you couldn’t accept is the idea that Jungkook would definitely blame himself if he found out. Which is why you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him when it happened. If you did, you knew you would also have to admit to him that you have been non-consensually feeding him your blood instead of others’, which was a conversation you’d hoped to avoid until you were sure he would understand. Instead, you fucked up, and it’s all the more apparent as Jungkook frowns at you in the bathroom.

You rinse your mouth of the toothpaste, feeling a huge shard of guilt pierce your stomach.

“I wouldn’t have let you keep doing this if I’d known you were at risk of losing your job,” he mutters. “You already know I feel shitty even relying on you like this.”

“That’s exactly my point! That’s why I didn’t tell you! Because I knew we would end up here!”

“And that’s why this is a problem! You are failing to see how fucked up it is for me to have to depend on you to feed me!”

“Why?” You snap, and you immediately regret it, giving him an apologetic frown. “Sorry, I mean. Why do you feel so shitty relying on me? We’re partners, Jungkook.”

“Yeah, Y/N, we’re partners. Which means we are supposed to communicate with each other about things. That doesn’t mean you risk your entire career for me.”

“But doesn’t it, though?” You argue.

Jungkook groans and then wets his lips with his tongue before speaking. “No, baby. You’re not supposed to be making sacrifices like this! Not for me! Fuck, you shouldn’t be doing shit like this at all! You should be going to work, kicking ass, and then coming home to eat real food with your real boyfriend before you have incredible sex and then fall asleep!”

You cock your head at him, confused. “But, Jungkook, we already do that stuff.”

“No, we don’t, Y/N. You go to work, orchestrate some grand scheme to basically illegally harvest strangers’ blood during a national shortage, you come home and you eat. But I don’t. I leech off of someone else’s platelets. And then we have sex, and you fall asleep. And sometimes I do. But sometimes, I can’t. Because all I want to do is dream of you and I can’t do that anymore. Because I’m not real, Y/N, I’m literally a monster.”

You shake your head furiously and step toward him. “Listen. I made the choice to do this. Ever since the first day when you showed up at the clinic. I could have left you behind, I could have insisted to take you to the hospital anyway or put you in a headlock or something–”

“You are way too weak to put me in a headlock, even on that day,” he chuckles.

“I would have figured it out! But I had a choice in this Jungkook, just as much as you did for showing up, for asking me to help you. You could have gone somewhere else, or broken into the clinic after I left. You could have continued to live a half-life with a diet of rats and the occasional squirrel. But you chose this. You made choices, too.”

You push your toweled body into him, desperate for his touch. This is how you often are with him, needing him to ground you, to make sure you don’t spin out of control. He sighs, and you feel him circle his arms around you, his nose nuzzling into your wet hair. You shiver at the contact. Your shower must’ve been hotter than normal, because Jungkook feels almost like ice against your skin, much colder than his normal, albeit cooler temperature.

“Fuck, Jungkook, when was the last time you ate?” you ask.

He stiffens, then withdraws from the embrace.

“Get dressed,” he says, ignoring your question, before opening the door to the bathroom, the draft of the apartment, of his absence, leaving goosebumps on your skin in its wake.

The kitchen is clean, any and all evidence of this morning’s tirade gone. Jungkook has changed out of his jeans and button-down for a black hoodie and basketball shorts, solidifying the idea that he has no intention of leaving the apartment for the rest of the day.

You dress down similarly, throwing on a large ratty t-shirt and some sweats, very similar to the pajamas you’d been wearing for most of the day.

There’s a fresh pot of coffee brewing, but you ignore it, your stomach feeling sour over the idea of putting anything into it right now.

You lead Jungkook into the living room, and both of you sit on the couch, legs folded as you face one another.

“I know you’re not eating.” You try to say it softly, like an observation, but as the words leave your mouth, you hear them sound accusatory, tense.

“I know you know I’m not eating,” he responds, his tone even and cool. “I’ve seen you doing inventory checks daily.”

“You have to eat,” you urge. “You can’t just starve like this.”

“I’m not starving,” he says, still composed, distant.

“Bun, you’ve significantly curbed your consumption. You used to throw back two pints a day, easily.”

“Yes, well, that was before I found out my girlfriend was suspended from work for smuggling me those two pints, jeopardizing her entire future.”

“I don’t understand why you’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”

His eyebrows rise. “I don’t understand why you’re not making it the bigger deal that it is!”

“Because it’s not! Not really! I have it under control!”

“And how exactly do you have this under control? Getting fired? Ruining your life isn’t control!”

“I don’t think I’ll be fired. Put on probation maybe, but not fired.”

“And why are you so sure about that?”

“Because…because I didn’t steal someone else’s blood. And that’s a criminal offense. But the laws are muddier when it’s your own blood.”

“Your…your own blood. You were caught with your own blood.” Jungkook looks at you quizzically. And then you see it register. His pupils blow wide.

“I fucking knew it,” he says. “I knew I was tasting you. I thought maybe it was just because you were on your period for a little longer than usual this month, and that maybe I was catching something in the air and just mixing up the scent with the taste of the blood. But, fuck! Goddamn it Y/N! I told you I didn’t want to feed from you and you just went and did it anyway?”

“I’m sorry,” you admit, your cheeks burning with guilt. “I just wanted to help you.”

“By taking away my choice in the matter? By hurting yourself? Shit!”

“No. I–I know you said you didn’t want to bite me, so I thought maybe if I did it this way that it wouldn’t be so bad and you wouldn’t have to feel so bad about it! And then I wouldn’t be as likely to be caught at work. It gave me some protection too in this! The board is meeting later this week to talk about my case and because the blood results proved to be mine, they just have to decide an appropriate punishment. I’m not going to go to jail over this, and if I lose my job, I’ll figure something out. But, I really didn’t mean to take away your choice, and I see now that I did.” You feel your throat close as you begin to cry..

Jungkook is right, you took away his choice by doing this, and no matter your intention, he has the right to know.

“I’m really sorry. I completely fucked up doing this.”

“Yeah, you did. But not in the way you’re seeing this. God. It’s not about biting or not biting, it’s how easily you did it for me. How you keep putting yourself, your own health, at risk for me! You don’t get it! You stole blood for me for almost a year. And then when you started to realize your future was at stake, you took it from your own body. Which you shouldn’t have to do!”

You swipe at the tears pooling from your eyes. “You keep saying that. Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because it’s true, baby! You shouldn’t be in this weird supernatural chaos! It’s Valentine’s Day! You should be feeding your boyfriend chocolates or eating breakfast in bed. Exchanging presents and going on dates to dinner or the movies. Having sex! And not just sex, making love, making babies!”

“But you said you didn’t want to do any of that! Jungkook, I’m so confused. What is it that you want? If you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, I have a present for you wrapped up that I’ve been dying to give you for months. And we can go to the movies. We can have sex… I don’t even want a baby!”

You pull a pillow into your lap like a shield.

“You do want a baby,” he accuses. You snap your head up.

“What? No, I–”

“You do. You told me on Christmas Eve, when we were watching that movie on the couch. You were falling asleep during it, but in that scene when he comes home after saying no to that deal, she says ‘I want my baby to look like you’ and you looked up at me so sleepy and warm and alive, and you repeated it back to me. You said ‘I want my baby to look like you.’”

You think back to that night, when you and Jungkook were cuddled up together watching It’s A Wonderful Life since he’d never seen it, and between sips of a very strong eggnog, you kept studying his face, almost overwhelmed by the idea that you could ever love him more than you did in this moment. When Mary told George she was pregnant, something just felt right about that phrase, and in your tipsy, sleepy, haze, you must have recited that part back to him.

Honestly, you do want your baby to look like him. You can’t imagine anyone else in the world whose features you would want to see copied into another human, one that you make together.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not mad that you said it. I’m honored. Because if I could have children, I would want them to look like you.” His voice is tight. “But I can’t give you that. I think if I could, we would currently be arguing over paint swatches and baby names while I rub your swollen feet, not this. Because fuck we have definitely not been careful,” he chuckles.

Despite the sadness in his voice, you feel yourself smirk.

“And even if we adopted, that doesn’t solve one of the biggest issues out of all of this. Which is that you will grow older and more beautiful and our children would grow older and more beautiful, and I don’t know if I will. I don’t know if I’m going to be doomed by the stereotypical vampire life because I don’t know who turned me. He didn’t give me anything to go off of. Maybe I age but I do it slower. Maybe I will never age. Maybe I live forever or just a little longer than you. Or fuck, maybe instead of living forever, vampires actually have an insanely short life span because we are just another type of mosquito derivative!”

You laugh at that, though you still feel the tears staining your cheeks, making no effort to stop.

“The point is, I can’t promise you anything human. I can’t promise you a normal life with me. Babies that we make, us growing old together. If I could do one thing different, I kinda wish I put a baby into you the first time we fucked around in that car. God knows I was hard enough.”

“Jungkook,” you choke, ignoring his attempt at deflecting. “I don’t care about any of that. I know I said that stuff on Christmas, but I didn’t mean it like that. Maybe you can have kids! Like you said, you don’t know. For all we know, my freakishly long periods might be a sign I’m infertile. I don’t know either, I haven’t gone to the doctor or taken tests because I haven’t been too worried about it. That or aging or any of this! My job even.”

“Wait, hold on, back up. You might be infertile?” He looks almost offended by his own use of the term.

You nod. “Maybe, but I haven’t really been thinking about it lately. I’ve been more worried about you, more focused on you.”

He squints. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been evasive and bratty and honestly just fucking awful. And I can see why. You’re thirsty. You stopped eating again. You started screaming about heart themed things being for vampires. You’ve been avoiding me…is that why you haven’t told me anything? Because of my work thing?”

“I still can’t understand why you are this nonchalant about your career,” he says and you shrug.

“Bunny,” you warn, and Jungkook crosses his arms across his chest.

“Okay, yes,” he concedes. “Part of this is due to that. Because you didn’t tell me. But also I feel like I’m ruining your life. And if that’s the case, if I’m taking so much from you, I want to take less. I want to be less.”

“I’m a parasite. A leech. I consume human blood to carry on living my nonexistent life. I sleep but I don’t dream. I can’t enjoy things the same way. I can’t be normal and that’s what you deserve. What you need. So if I’m going to be a parasite and dependent on you, I want to make things easier. You mentioned that gift under the bed…and, I don’t know that started it all. Got me thinking about all the things I can’t give you. All the experiences you’ll never have because of me. But how much you want it. Valentine’s Day. Baby, I know it’s a holiday you like. I see your eyes sparkle every time you pass the decorations and candy at the store. Of course you have had a present for me wrapped and ready since Christmas, because that’s you and how incredible you are. And I wanted to give you some of that back, but the more I thought about it, the angrier I got that I can never be good enough for you. I can’t give you everything. And then this morning, I don’t know, I snapped. I tried to cook you something I normally can do with my eyes blindfolded and walking backwards but everything came toppling down around me and I got overwhelmed and ended up fucking it all up.”

Jungkook reaches across the couch, taking your hand in his, tracing his thumb across your knuckles.

“You’re so dramatic,” you accuse, and roll your eyes.

Jungkook retracts his hand and pouts. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“You’re being dramatic and over the top with this broody Edward Cullen shit. I’m sick of it.” You toss the pillow to the side and sit up on the couch, edging your body closer.

“For starters, you’re punishing yourself by not eating. Your hands are like ice, and that means you’re extremely underfed because very little blood is in you. Second, you refuse to eat because at first it was someone else’s blood and I could get in trouble so that justified not doing it. But now that it’s freely available, because it’s mine you have some moral conniption preventing you from nourishing your body. And all of this is circling around the same problem. Which is you deciding for me what you think I want and need.” You hover just above him now, your knees digging into the cushions on either side of him as you trap him under you.

“You decided wrong, by the way. You based what I want not on who I am, but on your own insecurities and fears about me, Jungkook. And that’s not fair to me.”

You plant yourself down on him, straddling your weight across his chest. Jungkook gazes up at you, a frown still etched on his face, though it’s grown softer.

“It’s also not fair to me that you are trying to control my decision about feeding from you or not. If you were a vegetarian, how would you feel if I had replaced your veggie burgers with meat patties just because I thought you needed the protein?” He asks.

You hadn’t thought about that. Your shoulders sag as you sit with the realization.

“I need you to trust that I won’t ever go back to feeling the way I did when we first met. Look at me, are the marks under my eyes as dark? Am I as hard or pale?” You shake your head, and Jungkook reaches up to your face, touching his palm to your cheek. “I am thirsty, baby. But I also know how to control myself. I have spent months with you, around your blood, smelling you when you do something as little as get a paper cut or have a large blood clot pass during your period. Don’t look at me like that, it’s literally just blood from your body, you as a phlebotomist know better than to find that weird or gross.” You giggle, trying to ward away the flush of your cheeks. “And yes, it hurts, but kind of like when you smell something really good cooking in the kitchen and your stomach growls. But that’s the worst of it.”

“Is it though?” you ask gently, trying not to argue with him, but his eyes seem almost cloudy to you.

His brows knit and he opens his mouth but then shuts it, nodding for you to continue. Instead, he strokes along your brow bone, then down the curves of your jaw, tracing your features with his index finger.

“Your eyes aren’t as clear as they are when you feed regularly,” you sigh sadly. “I don’t want to change you, at all. But you’re warmer then too. And on days like today, it would be nice to have you less frigid to cuddle up next to. But I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do. I was wrong to not tell you about my work stuff and my blood. Those are two big things that you deserve to know as my partner, and because they impact you directly. I’m sorry.”

You take his hand in yours and bring it down over your chest. “If you don’t want to drink those blood packs, I understand. We’ll find some other way of getting you blood. But we need to make these decisions together. All of them. No more of us deciding we know what the other person needs best. That means I am not force feeding you my blood, I know. It also means you don’t get to decide if I want to have a biological baby or if I want to grow old with someone else.”

Jungkook contemplates this, and then nods in agreement.

“Do you feel that?” You ask, glancing down to your chest, referring to your heart beat.

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“Good, because in all this, you keep saying you’re this monster and that can’t be further from the truth. Maybe I don’t need normal, because I don’t want normal. I want you. And I am alive and warm as a human is, sure. You insist you’re not alive. But what is life really? Do you need to be breathing and to have a beating heart like mine to experience love? Joy? The things that make up life? You feel me. Even if it’s all a habit now. The memory of your body, I don’t know. I don’t know how you work either but that doesn’t matter.”

“Do you need to have dreams or to eat chocolate or make babies to feel like you’re living, Jungkook? Because I don't think you do. I think your body and my body sitting here together, my heart pumping blood through me, more than I probably even need to keep me going, is more than enough for me. You loving me, I think that’s life. Is that not enough for you?”

Jungkook’s eyes are glassy, and he takes a deep breath, also probably out of habit more than necessity. “No, it’s more than enough,” he says. “I think this is life.”

You smile. “Okay, then let’s live. Let’s live like this. Whatever it is. And we can decide as we go what living looks like, alright?”

Jungkook releases his bottom lip from his fang. “Alright.”

You lean in, and Jungkook’s lips pull up into a smirk right before he kisses you, molding his body into yours with relief.

You welcome his tongue into your mouth, surprised by how cold even that is. When you pull away to catch your breath, you pull yourself tightly against him.

“We need to find you something to eat,” you say for what feels like the millionth time today, and Jungkook sighs.

“Tomorrow, okay? I just want to be close to you right now.” He burrows deeper into your t-shirt and you hum in agreement, letting the soft animal of his body feel like home.

The rest of the day, the two of you drift back into the softer and more familiar patterns of your relationship that the last week has disrupted.

Jungkook cooks you dinner, properly this time, a steak you wash down with a beer, the two of you discussing your friends and the latest episode of the show you finally have caught up watching, the tense air between you two perhaps not entirely diffused, but ultimately much more at ease than before.

You choose to not address the moment in your peripheral vision when you see Jungkook gnawing on some bloody gristle that he trimmed off the steak, his brows set in dissatisfaction as he tries to replace some of the nutrients he’s craving.

He’s thirstier than he’s admitting, you know, but you are trying to loosen the tight hold of control you are tempted to have.

“Hey,” you say as you load your dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

Jungkook, who is reading the beer founder’s story on the back of your empty can, perks up, curious.

“Do you want to open your present?” you ask, and can’t help but laugh at the way his face lights up at the suggestion.

“Oh my god, yes! I've been dying to know what it is since Christmas!” He beams, and before you can even move to go get it from under your bed, he’s gone, shuffling around down the hallway and cooing to Buttercup, who has just finished her own dinner.

When he reappears, he puts the gift on the counter and looks at you sheepishly.

“Um,” he says, and you can tell he’s desperately trying to be polite and well behaved like a small child on their birthday.

You snort. “Open it, bunny.”

Jungkook rips right into the paper, his jaw dropping. “You! This?”

You watch as he takes off into the living room to disassemble the current turntable setup.

“Goodbye Old Play, Fall Down Boy, and Alicia Broken Piano Keys,” he sing-songs. “Damn, when was the last time we had music around here?”

You watch him putter around.

This, you think, could be a good life.

Lying in bed, you drift between a dreamstate and your overactive brain trying to process your reality. Thoughts of your job, more specifically what you’ll do if you actually are fired filter through your head. You suppose you’d change careers, but this job has always been the one thing you wanted in life, at least before you had Jungkook.

Between a body heat barrier of blankets and pillows, you toss yourself around and sigh, finally coming to a state of being fully awake. Jungkook shifts across the pile to alert you that he, too, is awake.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks gruffly, and you grunt as you roll over.

“Can’t sleep,” you whine, and you move one of the pillows shoved between the two of you out of the way so you can see his face in the dark.

The soft glow of the outside city lights shifts through the window, casting a hint of pale blue light across his face. Like this, he looks more wan, sallow, and your heart wrenches. God, it’s so hard to see him this way, starving himself, and you know you shouldn’t feel guilty, but with the day behind you, you feel the late-night flood of regret starting to taint your mind as you try to figure out how you let this all go so horribly wrong.

“Busy mind?” He asks, and you blink up at him, a little surprised by how it seems as though he’s reading your thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” he grumbles, and then reaches out to pull you into him, his cold hands in an even colder room sending a tremor through your body.

“God, I’m sorry,” he says, and you clench your teeth.

“ s’okay” you mumble, and you push your face into his chest to warm your nose in his hoodie, throwing your leg over him to bring you closer.

Jungkook gently rubs your back, his touch light as his fingers trace up and down your spine. It tingles, sending a shiver that hardens your nipples.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks after a long pause.

You could lie, and then you wouldn’t have to worry that Jungkook would be awake all night carrying your baggage for you. But, you know how important this step of honesty is, so you take a deep breath.

“I-I just keep thinking about work. What’s going to happen? I don’t regret it, please don’t think I do or misunderstand. But I love my job. I love you more. It just feels all convoluted and scary. If I get fired, how will we afford this apartment? Find your blood?”

You feel Jungkook take a steep inhale, and you know he’s doing this to steady you, that his lungs don’t really need to expand but to breathe next to him, with him, is what feels the most natural to you both.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he says, and you fight the urge to cry for the third time today.

“I know it’ll be okay,” you assure him, “but I’m sad anyway.”

His fingers continue to strum along your spine, soothing you in the quiet winter night. At some point Buttercup gets up to go prowl around the apartment in her usual late-night zoomies, leaving you two alone in your little universe.

“I’ve been thinking a lot tonight, too,” Jungkook mumbles into the dark.

“About what,” you whisper. The wind outside kicks up, and you feel a sharp draft cut against your now-bare legs, beading you with goosebumps that make you shiver.

Jungkook tuts, shifting you to his side momentarily so he can reach down and pull up your thick duvet. You relish the return to warmth and lay back down on him, resting your head onto his chest while letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Feeding,” he says casually, but you can still hear the hunger in the word as he pronounces every syllable sharply. A different kind of tremor rocks through you, and you feel a tug of arousal behind your belly button.

“Oh,” you say, trying to be unaffected, but Jungkook sees right through you and chuckles.

“The first time I tasted your blood, you don’t even know what it did to me, Y/N,” he groans.

“It felt like every single dead neuron in my body was firing all at once again. I’ve never experienced anything like it. You were so warm, your blood was so thick on my tongue. I knew I was going to crave you for the rest of my, well I guess, existence.”

You squirm a little, trying to ignore the slight dampness you feel forming between your legs.

“Then, god, I thought I was going crazy when you were feeding me those blood packs. That I had wanted the taste of you so badly that I was imagining it somehow from knowing the way you smell.”

He continues. “I know I told you that I have control, but fuck, baby, you almost destroyed me with that little stunt of yours.”

Jungkook shifts, and you can feel his hardening length brush against your stomach. His thigh butts up against you, and you know he can feel the effect he’s having on you.

“How?” you ask weakly, and Jungkook flexes his thigh underneath you, putting a little pressure right onto your clit. The whine you’ve been suppressing escapes, needy and rich.

“I almost caved. One night while you were sleeping, Thought about waking you up by fucking you with my tongue so I could finally taste you again.” Jungkook’s cock twitches underneath you and you rut against him in response, the heat in your core building. “Shit, you were even sleeping with your legs wide open for me, your panties and those tiny fucking things you call pajamas shifted and your pretty little pussy was right there for me to taste. Practically begging me for it.”

You rock against Jungkook’s thigh, the broad grind of your wet panties against Jungkook’s thigh releasing some of the tension.

“Oh,” you moan softly, but Jungkook isn’t done talking, and he ignores you as his hands come up to your ass, his cold touch on your cheeks causing you to squeak as he pulls them apart to force you to rut harder, deeper onto him.

“I can smell you right now,” he says roughly. “You can’t hide it from me, you know. Your blood, your wet pussy, they’re equally delicious to me. Equally mine.”

You moan as he forces you back and forth on his thigh. “You like that, don’t you? The idea of me devouring you like that? Waking you up with my mouth swirling around that hard clit, have you drooling and begging for my cock before you even know what day it is?”

“Shit, yes. Yes,” you pant, and Jungkook laughs, grasping your panties with his fingers and pulling tight. The fabric shifts, digging onto your swollen clit, blurring your vision from the sharp, deep wail.

“Such a dirty fucking girl, humping me like this. Letting me use you like this. What happened to my good girl, hm? Where’d my baby go?”

You know the question is rhetorical, but you find yourself entering the familiar, delicious haze you often go to with Jungkook, one that has been trained to answer every question he asks.

“Still your baby,” you whine, and Jungkook laughs.

He reaches down, tearing your panties off of your body with a single tug, exposing your wet pussy to the chill of the air.

“Oh really? You’re my baby? I don’t know about that. My baby usually has her mouth around my cock by now.”

Obediently, sit up, tugging your shirt over your head, your nipples hard and sensitive from your arousal. Jungkook groans as he takes in the view of your naked body, but before he can act, you hastily strip him of his hoodie and shorts to reveal his naked length.

Jungkook’s cock stands tall and heavy, and as you take it into your hands, you don’t mention how that, too, has become incredibly cold from his thirst. Maybe this hunger could be soothing in summer, but in midwinter, it is going to drive you insane.

You pull him into your mouth, determined to imprint some of your body heat onto him as you dribble your warm saliva down his shaft with a deep suck.

Jungkook moans above you, tangling his fingers into your hair in approval.

“Fuck, yes, Y/N. God.”

You use one of your hands to cup his balls, enjoying the heft of how full they are before stroking up and down the parts of his cock that you can’t take into your mouth.

“There she is,” Jungkook sighs, and you relax your jaw so you can take more of him in, edging his tip down your throat. He bucks up, and you gag, feeling the familiar tang of him spread across your tongue. Globs of saliva bubble out of your mouth as you attempt to fight the urge to gag more from his occasional thrusts.

“There’s my baby. My little cockslut. Fuck, I missed this.” You hum in agreement and Jungkook gasps at the vibration. He grabs your head, stopping you from bobbing.

“Shit…fuck baby, hold on. Stop. God, I almost just came,” he laughs, and your lips twitch as you slowly pull away from him, strings of spit still connecting you to his thick cock.

You look up at him as he steadies himself, smiling up at him devilishly.

Feeling naughty, you lean forward, testing the waters as you tongue around the head, taking one final, deep suck. Jungkook’s eyes darken in warning and you giggle, sitting back on your heels as you smile at him with fake innocence.

“Brat,” he mutters, and shoves you down onto the bed, his lips on yours before you can even breathe, tasting himself in the corners of your mouth with feral need.

He pulls away, tapping your knees with instruction to open, and you do, propping your head up on a pillow so you can see everything.

The curve of his nose rocks against your clitoris as he begins, and because Jungkook knows you so well, his hands clamp down on your legs to prevent you from squirming. You feel him dig one hand into your thigh, a warning not to try to take control, and you force yourself to relax as he begins exploring you, sucking one of your swollen labia into his mouth.

You groan, the slow method of him licking and sucking, moving down and up between the inner corners of your thighs back to your center feels both like heaven and absolute hell.

You have the urge to whine, to shove your hips up, maybe your neglected clit will get more attention, but you know better. Jungkook is testing you, trusting you in this moment not to fail him.

His eyes meet yours as feasts, the bruises under his eyes more dark now than they were earlier. Between the maddening, erotic swishes of his tongue against your clitoral hood and smug look on his face, you’ve had just about enough.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to play with your food,” you snap, and surprised, Jungkook pulls back, his wet cheeks and wide smirk indicating how satisfied he is with his torture.

“No,” he says, licking his lips. His fangs peek out from under his lips. “But I think my food really likes it when she has to work for it.”

You roll your eyes, and he brings his fingers to your clit, pinching it. You gasp.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” He scolds, and again you lose the urge to disobey.

You feign an apologetic look and buck your hips at him.

“Such a fucking bad girl today,” he chides. “If you’re not careful, I won’t let you cum. I’ll just use you like my little cumdump and you’ll have to figure out how to get off on your own.”

You shudder at his words and his shoulders straighten, satisfied with his apparent win.

“What do you say?” he asks, tracing one finger along your ridges.

You feel yourself trembling as his soft touch swirls around where you need it most, a frustrating, dizzy fury building in you.

“Jungkook, please.”

“That’s not the word I’m looking for.” His voice is dark, heavy in the cold of the room. Desperation is blinding you, only allowing you to think in fragmented sentences.

“I don’t know,” you whine, and you feel a hard slap hit directly onto your clit, sending a shock of pain and delicious pleasure through your body.

“Liar,” he snorts, and then rubs your wetness to soothe the ache. “You have a big girl brain, Y/N. I know you know what you need to say.” He dips a finger inside of you, you clench. “Or are you already too fucked out and needy to say it?”

Heat shades your face in embarrassment. Any other day, maybe, you’d challenge this, let him chip away at you until you are babbling and a mess underneath him. But the swell of heat in your core is pulsing what feels like everywhere in your body, including your head, and you rack your brain for the one word you know he’s looking for.

You pull a sharp breath between your teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“Good girl, I knew you could do it,” he says, and then he shoves his face into your cunt, more fingers dipping into your entrance. He begins to stretch you, pulling his fingers apart, urging more of your wetness to spill onto his tongue. “So sweet.”

Your hips twitch in the air and you fight to keep them down now that one side of you is freed, so you concentrate on him, pushing his hair back from his forehead as he devours you.

Jungkook’s eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide. And in them you see something more than just lust.

I’m thirsty, he’s telling you, the lines faint, but still there. He sucks hard onto your clit, a low sound tearing through his throat.

He’s asking you for permission, grazing his fangs along your inner lips, trying desperately to restrain himself as the hand still wrapped around your thigh tightens with a bruise-inducing pressure.

Then eat, tell him mentally, your tongue darting out of your mouth to lip your lips as you watch him get lost in his instincts. You hum your approval, thrusting your hips forward and shoving his head further into you.

“Yes,” you rasp, finding enough air in your lungs to puff out your consent.

Jungkook moans and you watch the resolve break as he delivers one final satisfying lap over your clit before he bites.

Nothing In your life could ever prepare you for this.

That part of you, the very organ having the most nerve endings, is alive and electric, burning hot as if you are the sun, the center of the universe. And Jungkook is orbiting around you, grounded by the gravity of your blood as he feeds from your pussy, groaning and bucking his hips in pleasure against the bed. A whimper churns from the depths of your throat as you writhe under him. The heat, god it’s everywhere, from the slight sting of the bite melting away from your core to the heady, steady throb of your clit that makes you feel your pulse everywhere.

Jungkook too, is warming underneath you, the chill of his body flushing away with each feverish gulp he takes. His cheeks are slightly pink again.

“So wet, so good,” he praises you as he swallows, and you see the blood smearing across his cheeks as he dips back into you.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you say shakily. His tattooed hand leaves your thigh, reaches up, searching for you in his feast. You don’t hesitate to lace it with yours, your hands a little clammy, but you’re afraid that if you don’t hold on to him, you might be lost among the stars.

He drags one of his fangs along the edge of your clitoral hood, and flicks your swollen bud with his tongue, self assured in your destruction. Your legs begin to close, but he growls.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he warns. His fingers press deeper inside you, thrusting toward the burning in your core that feels like it’s just out of reach. “You asked for this, now take it.”

“I can’t,” you say. “I can’t.” You thrash your head to the side, gaze unfocused as you take in the shapes around your bedroom you know once were pieces of furniture, but the combination of blood loss and building ecstasy has you feeling like you’re almost drifting from your body.

Jungkook clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction. “Look at me, Y/N,” he demands.

You force your eyes to him, and he instructs you to take a deep breath. You inhale shakily, letting him come into focus.

“You’re going to take my tongue. And then you’re going to take my fingers until you cum all over my face.” He makes his threat official, presses deep inside of you, thrusting deeper, toward the burning in your core that feels just out of reach. “And then you’re going to take my fat cock into my pretty little pussy and watch the cum drip out of it after I fuck you full of it, do you understand me?”

You tremble as he claims you. “Yes,” you reply and he leans in closer, thrusting his fingers in harder as you rock your hips toward him.

“Good,” he says. “Then give me what’s mine.” You feel him nip into you again, throwing you over with one deep suck.

You cry out, your hips twitching into the cold room, heaving deep broken gasps into your lungs, head spinning as you obey him. Your ears ring as you fall deeper under the wave, but you still feel Jungkook’s hand in yours, tender and encouraging as you force yourself back from beneath the current of your orgasm.

You try to steady your breath as you feel his drinking slow, his tongue placing a few laps here and there around your vulva in a gentle motion as he pulls himself away.

“Are you okay,” you hear him ask, though your eyes are trained on the ceiling as you try to stop yourself from seeing double. “Did I take too much?”

You’re not sure, to be honest, but you feel the warmth of Jungkook’s body cover you as he looks you over, feeling your pulse.

“Your heart is starting to slow down,” he says softly. “Can I leave you for a second to get some water?”

You make some kind of grunt of approval, and you feel him drape your covers back over you as he pads down the hall to sift through the kitchen.

He returns only a few moments later, a bottle of water and bag of heart shaped chocolates in hand.

You take the water from him and sip slowly, feeling the cool liquid soothing your hoarse throat, stabilizing you. You pop a chocolate into your mouth, the sugars melting your tongue tasting decadent.

When you finally glance over at Jungkook, you erupt into laughter.

“What?” he asks, his doe eyes going wide with panic. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

You fail to collect yourself, wheezing your breaths as tears burn your eyes. Maybe you did lose a bit too much blood, because it shouldn’t be as funny as it is, but he looks so full and flushed and innocent in light of what might just be the kinkiest thing the two of you have ever done.

His face is an utter mess, cheeks shiny and smeared with the faint pink of your mixed juices and blood. He looks like a child who just ate a cherry flavored popsicle.

“I-go look in the mirror,” you say between fits of laughter, and Jungkook looks at you confused before he obeys, standing and walking over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room.

“Oh shit,” he mumbles, then laughs. “Looks like I was saving myself a snack for later.” He reaches for a tissue from on top of his dresser and wipes his mouth.

“How can you not feel that all over you?” you ask, coughing when you finally recover.

“I don’t know! My brain isn’t focused on anything else right now but you! Well, you and…” he gestures down between his legs, where his cock is flushed from the blood, twitching as you give it attention.

You feel a flutter in your core and let out a soft gasp.

“But really, are you okay?” he asks tenderly, sitting back onto the bed and rubbing your thigh.

You scan over your body, checking in with yourself. You don’t feel woozy or nauseous, just loose, like how most large scale orgasms feel. Your thigh you know will be bruised tomorrow, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. And your clit, oh.

Your clit is tingling, and your pussy is dripping wet.

“Fuck,” you moan, and run your hand down between your legs and press your palm to your clit, enjoying the added pressure as it throbs under your touch.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, interested in your response.

You swipe your fingers through your folds and then pull them up. Surprisingly, the liquid is clear, meaning you’re not bleeding. Meaning that this dripping want is coming solely from you.

“What did you do to me?” You ask, and Jungkook’s eyes flash with worry as he moves closer, pulling your thighs open to inspect you.

“I hurt you?” he asks, panicking as he misunderstands. “God, I’m sorry Y/N.”

“No, no, baby, not like that,” you say, and you feel his hands fall from you as he moves to look at your face.

He scrunches his nose in confusion. “Then what–.”

“My pussy is tingling, and fuck look at me. I’m drenched.”

His eyes blow wide and he dips to look back down, his tongue darting out over his lip piercings as he takes in the liquid spilling out of you and onto the sheets underneath.

“Shit. I don’t know. Maybe my venom does that? I don’t even see a cut on you from where I bit.”

He sits back on his legs and his hand finds his cock, squeezing the base as he flits between looking at you and in between your legs.

You clench around nothing and a low, tortured moan escapes from his throat as he draws his hand up the base, wrist flicking to pump himself up and down in slow, delicious tugs.

“Y/N,” he says, and the way he says your name is dripping with need. You feel his eyes burn into every inch of you as he touches himself, causing you to mimic the fluidity of his strokes as you rub your clit.

“Please,” you respond.

“Cum for me again,” he demands but you shake your head.

“Don’t want to like this,” you say. “Want your cock in me. You promised you would let me watch your cum spill out of your pretty pussy, remember?”

His nostrils flare, and Jungkook jolts, flipping you over on the bed so you rest on top of him, his hard cock smearing with your wetness as he rocks your hips against him.

“We need to do something about that filthy mouth of yours,” he says, and you pant as you grind against him with broad movements, coating him with your juices. “The only time you haven’t said something bratty today was when my cock was down your throat.”

You moan, raising your hips off of his and taking his cock in hand. “You love it,” you say, and sink yourself down onto his cock in one solid motion, his thick length stretching and filling you to the brim.

He hisses and you begin to bounce, using him to curb some of the ache in your core.

He reaches up and wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing. You squeak, feeling him pull you off of his cock, and leaving you devastatingly empty.

“Did I say you could fuck me?”

You whine and he scoffs. “Maybe you don’t deserve my cum after all. Disobeying me like this. I told you earlier I wondered where my good girl went, and I think I was right. Didn’t know I traded her in for a disrespectful bitch.”

You feel your stomach flip with excitement at the new term and you clench around him.

He laughs. “Oh? You like that, hmm? Well, if I traded away my good girl, I better see how much of a whore her replacement is.”

He lightens his grip on your neck and the oxygen floods back, making your fingertips and nipples prickle with the heightened sensation.

“Well? Get to it, slut.” and he takes your hips, slamming you back down onto his cock with one single stroke.

“FUCK,” you scream, and your hips buck, overstimulated as Jungkook doesn’t even give you the chance to have control, his hands clamping down on your sides as his fucks you onto him.

“That’s it,” he rasps. “That’s it, take my cock like a good little slut.”

You cry out, clamping your arms around him and pulling his face into your neck.

“Jungkook,” you say, and he grunts in response, pounding into you with a rhythm so that when you come down, he pushes up, hitting you deeper with each thrust.

“You like that, huh? Being like little fleshlight? Me using you like this to fuck all my cum into?”

You clench around him, slightly light headed from where he’s targeting you, trying to hit your g-spot dead on.

It’s so good, so primal, and you know you’re almost there, but you need something more.

“Please,” you whisper, shoving his head into your neck. “Bite me.”

And that’s when you feel it, the tiny prick of his fangs as Jungkook pierces your skin and begins to feed.

Sharp cold pleasure is immediately replaced with a silky, scorching wave of pleasure as his venom delivers that addicting tingle through your neck.

Jungkook, too, seems to be affected, his cock twitches in you as the blood fills his body, somehow making him feel thicker and a little longer.

“Oh,” you gasp as you feel the fingers of one of Jungkook’s hands reach down to your clit, rubbing it hard and fast.

He detaches himself from your neck and laps up the excess blood before he holds you steady and adjusts your position, placing you on your back as he hovers above you.

The cloudiness in his eyes is gone, the markings underneath have faded. He settles into slow, deep strokes, his eyes ghosting over your body.

“I love you,” he says. Your heart swells.

“I love you too,” you respond, and you look down at where the two of you are connected, your pussy making a vulgar squelching sound as he drags himself in and out, his cockhead glossy.

“More,” you beg. “Please I’m so close”. He obeys, picks up his pace.

He bends over you, pulling a nipple into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.

“Should I bite you here next?” he mumbles and you squirm in delight.

Each thrust is now jutting Jungkook right against your cervix, and you feel the wet mess of your pussy trying and failing to take more of his cock inside, relishing the warmth that now reaches every corner of you.

As you flutter around him, the mounting tension drawing you closer to orgasm, Jungkook dips down again, this time laving over your nipple, plucking it between his teeth and delivering a soft bite.

This sends you over the edge, a stream of white hot pleasure rocketing through your core as you gasp on top of him, your pussy clamping down and trying desperately to take him with you.

But Jungkook has better control than that, and instead of letting you rest, he sets a deadly, relentless pace, fucking you into overstimulation.

“One more,” he breathes between thrusts.

“Hurts,” you pout, but he knows you. Knows your limit.

“One more. I know your messy little cunt can take more than this, baby.”

He spreads you wider, hooking your legs back so he's deeper in you than before, the wet slap of his balls against your pussy echoing through your bedroom as you are coated with your wetness.

You groan and he keeps going, his fingers ghosting over your clit once but not staying. You huff in frustration.

“Words,” Jungkook demands and you take a deep breath, trying to rack your brain for something other than moans.

“Yeah,” is all you can manage, and with a dark laugh, he accepts it, placing his fingers back on your clit and finally, finally putting you back on track.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he utters, and this is how you know he’s getting close. The praise flowing from his mouth betrays his cold, dominating facade. “Such a warm, wet pussy. Just for me to fuck my cum into.” He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on his lip rings.

You moan, matching his thrusts with your hips, slamming yourself together harder, deeper. “God, Jungkook, please.”

“You gonna be good for me this time?” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. The tone of his voice is slightly higher, straining. “Gonna let me fill you up?”

“Yes,” you pant. “I need it.” His fingers circle faster, desperately working to make you cum before him. “Need to be full of your cum.”

You pull him into you, needing him closer, needing to feel the distance between your bodies to be smaller as you get closer. His fingers keep working, his thrusts hard and deep, hitting you exactly where you need it.

“Right there. Fuck your pussy, Jungkook. Take what’s yours.”

His hips falter. You place your teeth onto his neck and bite. Hard.

“Fuck,” Jungkook moans and erupts, his cock twitching as he spurts load after load of warm cum into you, giving you the last bit you need to send you off one last time. Your pussy spasms, greedily taking in everything he gives you.

“That’s it, baby,” he says, his voice shaky as he continues to anchor both of you to your bodies, to the sensation of being full and satisfied.

He kisses your temple, then your cheek, rocking his hips slowly against you as you come down, flushed and overwhelmed.

You feel almost weightless, untethered to the joints in your arms and legs. If you weren’t being held by him right now, you might think you were out in space, floating around without gravity. In the haze of it all, you feel Jungkook shift you onto your side, his body still linked to yours as his erection deflates, cum leaking onto the bedding below you.

You don’t care enough to do anything about it, instead clinging to his forearm, needing to feel him everywhere so you don’t disappear.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he says, and you’re confused by this, and then you realize you’re crying, wet tears stinging your cheeks as you shake against him. He runs his hands through your hair and down the length of your back softly. “I got you.”

You breathe a shaky breath as he wraps the blankets around the two of you, gently humming a song, sighing when he feels you wiggle your toes next to him and finally steady yourself.

You look up at him and he’s smiling softly, his eyes warm and brown like they were when you first met him.

“That was intense, huh?” he asks and you nod.

“But really good,” you add and he beams.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I…”

He sits thoughtfully for a moment and you let him, trying to gain the courage to detach yourself and venture into the cold apartment to pee.

“I wish we did that sooner. I mean, I guess I should ask how that was for you. For me to, you know, feed from you.”

You wince as you shift away from him, feeling him slip out of you as you leak onto the sheets. Your sticky, damp legs beg for a shower, but you ignore it.

“I…it was a lot. But…but I liked it. The first bite, shit. You explained earlier how it felt when you first tasted my blood? About it being like how everything fired off in your body at once, right?” He nods. “It was like that for me, too.”

Jungkook smiles, pulling you in tightly against him.

“Do you think we can do that more often?” you ask shyly, and he laughs.

“Damn, once is all it takes for you to get addicted?”

You smack his arm. “Hey! No kink shaming! I didn’t judge you for wanting to go down on me during my period! While I was asleep!”

He sputters. “I’m not kink shaming! But you sound like you’re judging me now for it! We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to I’m sorry but I was caught up in the moment and the bloodlust and I was–”

You choke out a laugh, kissing him on his bare chest. “I’m teasing you...it sounds kind of hot actually.”

He hums in approval.

“I think we still have a lot of stuff to talk about,” he says after a pause. You sigh.

“Yeah. The great job reckoning is coming.”

“Yes, and not just that. I do want to talk more about you…your body. The…infertility thing. I want to go with you to the appointment, I mean if that’s okay? Even if everything is fine, or that you don’t end up wanting kids or whatever, I just want to be there for you through any of it, okay?”

You bristle a bit, feeling yourself starting to cry again. But after the day you’ve had, the intense, passionate sex, all of the things you will still be dealing with in the morning, you let the release guide you as your tears fall.

“Okay,” you say. You think about your conversations with Jungkook today, how he’s right. There are so many things you both don’t know about what you want or don’t want, about your own bodies.

“Um,” you say, and you pull back from him, rubbing up and down his forearms. “I want you to know something, too. I know that being a vampire wasn’t really in your life plans, and that there’s a lot of unknowns about it too. Not just about fertility, but like, it would have probably been nice for you to know you had magical tingly, healing venom that turns you into a sex god.”

“Hey! Was I not a sex god without the venom?” He scoffs, pretending to be offended.

You snort. “Okay fine, healing venom that turns you from a sex god to even more of a sex god. But you know what I mean. There are things that would be so helpful for you to know. To maybe take away some of the worry and those terrifying unknowns. And if you ever want to know, if you want to try to find your creator, I’ll support you in that choice. It would be hard, and maybe we wouldn’t find him, but I’m with you in this.”

Jungkook takes your cheek in his hand, his warm thumb rubbing across the skin.

“Thank you,” he says, and leans in to give you a soft kiss.

The world outside plunges deeper into the night, and after you clean yourselves up and change the sheets, you lie closely against each other. So many things remain unknown, but one thing you’re sure of as you watch Jungkook sleep: you have time to figure it all out.

ending a/n:

Thank you again for reading! While doing research about blood donations for this story, I was reminded that there’s currently a national shortage for blood donors in the US, and it’s safe to assume that this isn’t unique to just us. Right now, with the ongoing genocide in Gaza, blood shortages are extreme, and with the stonewalling happening preventing aid to enter the strip and Rafah, supplies, including blood for life saving transfusions, cannot make it through.

The Red Crescent/American Red Cross issued this statement in January:

“During emergencies, the American Red Cross will ship blood products outside of the U.S. following a specific request from the U. S. State Department for U.S. citizens overseas, at the request of the United Nations, or at the request of the affected Red Cross or Red Crescent society abroad. We have not received blood product requests for Israel or Gaza at this time.

For those interested in learning more about international humanitarian law and its vital role in protecting the innocent during armed conflict, please visit www.redcross.org/ihl. The American Red Cross has a duty to fulfill the Geneva Conventions’ purpose of reducing suffering during armed conflict. As part of our duty, the American Red Cross leads the effort to ensure Americans are informed of these laws and the humanitarian principles they reflect.”

While it’s not yet being asked for, I cannot recommend enough donating blood if you are eligible. There are many different qualifications for blood donations (if you’re not sure about your eligibility, please look at your Red Cross/Crescent website depending on your country). Your donation can help not just your local communities, but ultimately a population of people you might be unsure how to help. And if not, monetary donations are also accepted.

I’m not affiliated with this organization in any way, but I felt like it would be wrong to ignore this issue just in favor of a fun fanfic.

#bts smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #vampire jungkook #bts fanfic

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withlovewriting · 1 month

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All I Ever Knew, Only You 13: Benchwarmers

Chapter Thirteen.

Say what you want, but say it like you mean it, With your fists for once, A long cold war, with your kids at the front, Just give it one more day, then you're done, I do what I want, crying in the bleachers, And I said it was fun, I don't need anything from anyone, It's just not my year, But I'm all good out here

Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.

Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)

Words: 6,098

Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, physical violence, Steve gets his ass beat but good God did he try, forced drug use (kinda. If you've seen the episode then I'm sure you understand)

Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, no use of y/n, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.

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Chapter Thirteen: Benchwarmers

“Are you okay? When you weren’t at the cabin I… I thought you’d gone to find Mike, and then he was with Will and… I thought you left. I thought you were in danger-”

“I’m okay,” the girl tried to reassure you as you held her face between your palms, eyes watery as she tried her best not to cry.

Once you had double-checked her for injuries and wiped her nose with the sleeve of your jacket, you pulled her tight against you once more, “Don’t ever run off like that again, okay? Promise me, El.”

The girl nodded, a quiet ‘I promise’ falling from her mouth as you finally pulled away. Her eyes wandered around the group, falling on the boy she’d been desperate to see for almost a year.

“Eleven?”

“Mike,” This time, the tears fell from the young girl as she tightly gripped the boy. This was all she had wanted for three hundred and fifty-three days.

Hopper placed an arm across your shoulders, pulling you close once you’d moved back next to him, a relieved expression on his features, despite feeling dubious about the sight in front of him. The whole reason he had kept Eleven’s survival shrouded in secrecy was to protect her. To protect all of you, really. And now, the cat was out of the bag. Yet without her, you’d all most likely be Demo-dog food right now.

“That’s her? The girl with the…” Steve wiggled his fingers around slightly, “magic?”

Unable to pull your eyes away from El, thankful that she was here and safe, you simply nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there? That you were okay?”

“Because I wouldn’t let her.” Hopper intervened, causing Mike to turn, a glare settling on his dark brows as the man walked between the two and turned his attention to the girl, “The hell is this? Where have you been?”

“Hop-” you sighed, head already pounding, you refused to witness another fight.

“Where have you been?” El answered back, big brown eyes still brimming with tears. Hopper didn’t reply, and instead pulled her toward him, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

As if the clogs in Mike’s brain finally began to turn, connecting pieces of a puzzle previously hidden from him, he realized that Eleven had been here all along. And both yourself and Hopper knew about it.

“You’ve been hiding her. You’ve been hiding her this whole time!”

Mike shoved Hopper’s back, and despite the man barely moving, you still stepped in, placing a hand on Mike’s arm, only for the boy to shrug it off as he turned back to you, “You too! You were both hiding her, letting us think she was dead… or trapped in the Upside Down. But you knew. This whole time, you knew.”

“Hey,” Hopper grabbed a hold of Mike’s shirt, tugging him down the corridor, “Let’s talk. Alone.”

Your leg bounced as you leaned against the arm of the couch, the sounds of Mike’s pained and frustrated shouts heard from the living room, and despite the boys surrounding El and pulling her into a group hug, you felt several pairs of eyes fall on you.

Your eyes caught with Joyce’s just as she pulled the girl into her own hug, a gentle kiss placed against El’s gelled hair — a personal choice of hers that you'd decided you wouldn’t comment on — before you turned your gaze elsewhere, the older woman leading El through the house to see Will.

“You knew where she was this whole time?” Max asked, a little perplexed by El’s apparent coldness toward her, despite this being their first time meeting.

“Look, Hopper was protecting her. I wasn’t gonna go against that. It was in everyone’s best interest.”

Inhaling deeply, Max shrugged before standing with you, looking around at the drawings that covered the walls, “So this is all real? Not some stupid joke to pull on the new girl?”

A small laugh fell from your lips as you shook your head, “I wish it was joke, but no. All this shit… It’s happened before. Kind of, anyway. I just… I thought it was over with. I’m sorry you’ve been dragged along in this. I shouldn’t have ever told you to-”

“I’d rather know about the Demo-dogs that wanna eat me,” Max’s mouth pulled up in a half-smirk, despite her eyes still holding fear.

Sure, Eleven was here now, which significantly raised your chances of helping Will. But as you learned from last year, someone always gets hurt. Bob was dead and those… things were roaming around in the tunnels under the city, growing by the minute.

“Do you think if we got you back there, you could close it?”

Joyce’s question pulled your attention away from the small redhead, who followed you as you made your way toward where the older woman and Eleven now stood.

“Yes,” El all but whispered, dark eyes full of certainty, “I can close it.”

Standing next to El, her hand clinging to your own, you sighed as the group discussed their choices.

“The place is crawling with those dogs.”

“Demo-dogs,” Dustin interrupted, much to Hopper’s dismay, “Like Demogorgon and dogs… You put them together, it sounds pretty badass-”

“How is this important right now?"

“It’s not. I’m sorry.” The boy sighed, returning his attention to the table you were all standing around, a map of the tunnels spread out.

“I can do it,” El said, no hesitation in her voice at all.

“You’re not hearing me,” Hopper sighed with exasperation, arms folded over his chest.

But El pressed, “I’m hearing you. I can do it.”

“Even if El can, there’s still another problem.” Mike interrupted before the two could begin another argument, “If the brain dies, the body dies.”

“I thought that was the whole point,” Max questioned, confusion lining her brow.

Your head snapped round toward Mike, eyes slightly wider as you sharply inhaled. The boy — who had barely sent you a second look since coming back from his talk with Hopper — watched you across the table, dark eyes peering into yours as you caught on, asking quietly,

“If El closes the gate and kills the mind flayer’s army… What happens to Will?”

“Will’s a part of that army…” Lucas sighed, connecting the dots.

“Closing the gate will kill him,” Mike confirmed, causing everyone’s eyes to fall on Joyce as she pushed her dining chair backward and rushed into Will's room.

The group followed Joyce, eyes peering over Will as he led, still unconscious in bed. Joyce looked around the room, brows pulled together as she racked her brain for answers. Anything that could save Will, whilst still closing the gate.

Your eyes fell from the boy, to the walls where even more papers were taped to the wall. Clogs in your brain turning, you blinked a few times before speaking up.

“You said it’s like a virus, right?”

“That’s what Dr. Owens said, why?” Joyce questioned, her doe eyes turning toward you, almost begging for a solution.

“When you told me he was sick, you said… You said that he liked it cold, right? Will didn't mean himself, did he?”

Joyce’s eyes widened as she darted further into the room, shutting the open window, “We keep giving it what it wants.”

“If this is a virus, and Will’s the host then…” Nancy began, glancing toward you,

“Then we need to make the host inhabitable.” Jonathan finished for her.

“So if he likes it cold…”

“What are you talking about?” Hopper questioned, brow furrowed as he looked around the room.

Sighing, you turned your attention back toward Joyce, the poor woman tearing at her bottom lip with her teeth, “Then we need to burn that motherfucker out of him.”

Hopper had carried Will out toward his car, giving Jonathan directions toward his cabin as Joyce followed behind whilst Steve and Nancy made their way toward the garden to collect anything that would emit heat. You’d told them you’d thrown a decent heater out there whilst clearing the shed, so the two decided to start there.

“You should go with him,” Steve spoke quietly, sifting through the pile of junk.

“What?”

“With Jonathan.”

Nancy scoffed, digging around the other side of the pile, “No, I’m… I’m not just gonna leave Mike.”

Steve’s eyes turned toward the kitchen window as he placed down a ball of tangled Christmas lights, attempting to swallow down the mild dread that still settled in his stomach a year later.

He caught sight of you, standing with your hip against the sink as you spoke to Mike and the others. He could tell by how you struggled to swallow that you were most likely explaining your reasoning for keeping El’s whereabouts hidden. When Mike finally returned your glance, saying something Steve couldn’t make out before nodding, his face softening when you placed an apprehensive hand on his shoulder and pulled the begrudging boy into a half hug. Regardless of the fact he was sure it felt as awkward as it looked, he couldn’t help the small, upward tug of his lips.

“No one’s leaving anyone,” Steve continued, eyes darting toward the large fan that Nancy had lifted when he realized the girl was watching him, “I may be a pretty shitty boyfriend, but… turns out I’m actually a pretty damn good babysitter.”

Steve pulled out the small heater, handing it to Nancy who remained silent for a moment, a look of guilt and understanding written across her soft features when she finally looked toward him, “Steve…”

“It’s okay, Nance… It’s okay.

“If I thought for a second it wouldn’t keep you safe… wouldn’t keep El safe too, then I would’ve fought harder to tell you all, I promise.”

Mike sighed, eyebrows still furrowed together as he kept his eyes on his sneakers, “I thought I’d never see her again.”

“I just… I wanted to protect you. All of you.” You sighed as your fingers pulled at the skin around your nails.

“She’s done more than enough to prove that,” Lucas sent you a small smile across the kitchen, perched at the dining table, and you sent him a tight-lipped smile back, forcing down the bile that threatened to crawl its way up your throat whenever you thought of last year. Of what you did.

“We forgive her, right?” Dustin shrugged.

Lucas nodded in agreement, “Yeah. We get it.”

“I really am sorry, Mike.” You sighed, somehow feeling like a weight had lifted from your shoulders, only to be placed on your chest as you awaited the boy’s response.

“It’s okay,” Mike sighed, before sending you a small nod, “I forgive you, too.”

Placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, you pulled him reluctantly toward you, and despite the scoff that fell from his lips and the eye roll he had most likely sent to the rest of the group, you could feel the smile pull at his cheek.

Looking out the kitchen window, you observed Steve and Nancy awkwardly sifting through the pile of junk you and Hopper had haphazardly thrown outside. Nancy was holding up a large fan that would be useful in the summer months, and you watched as Steve approached her slowly, the former glancing up at him with her large blue eyes.

Frowning, you could only be grateful you had remained inside with the kids and not stuck in the middle of whatever that was. Pushing yourself from the sink, you made your way outside to where El stood.

“Are you sure about this?” You asked quietly, watching as Hopper loaded Will into Jonathan’s car.

“I can do this,” she began, sighing slightly.

Turning toward her, you grabbed one of her hands, “That’s not what I asked. You have a choice in this, no matter what the outcome might be without you. So, are you sure?”

Eleven’s gaze mapped out your face, eyes softening almost instantly, “I’m sure.”

Nodding, you blinked in an attempt to clear your vision from the tears that threatened to fall, “Then you better stay safe, alright? Don’t do anything that you don’t absolutely need to.”

The girl sent you her own nod before her eyes caught something behind you, causing her to inhale deeply. Turning, you watched over your shoulder as Mike slowly approached and decided to head over toward Hopper to give the two some semblance of privacy.

“That goes for you, too.” You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. You knew that Hopper had most likely been listening to your conversation, just as he now had to pretend that he wasn’t eavesdropping on the one El was having with Mike.

“I think you need to be looking in a mirror, Kid.”

“I’m not joking, Hop. Just… Make sure you both come back.”

Hopper’s full attention was now on you as his brow furrowed. Instead of reassuring words, the man simply stepped forward, pulling you into a strong embrace, and if the situation wasn’t as dire as it seemed, you would’ve complained about his bear-like strength and knocked his hat from where it perched on his head.

Instead, you felt your tense shoulders relax slightly as the man pressed his lips against the top of your head, mumbling as he promised you a safe return, quietly pleading with you to remain in the house and stay safe, to keep the kids safe.

Once you’d separated, the man pulled a cigarette from his pack, a sharp glare sent in your direction as you swiftly grabbed one too, but his attention was quickly stolen by the two young teenagers standing suspiciously close together.

“El… Come on, let’s go. It’s time.”

His large hand gripped your shoulder reassuringly one last time before you made your way toward the porch, watching as Hopper and El clambered into the former’s car, Nancy, Jonathan, and Joyce behind in the eldest Byers siblings vehicle, Will’s head resting against Joyce’s lap.

As they drove down the long, winding dirt drive, you stood next to Steve, the gang of teens surrounding you as you watched them all leave, the feeling of helplessness weighing heavily on you all.

Everyone had returned inside, leaving you alone on the porch to stew in your feelings. You’d barely been in the house a minute after everyone left, lighting your stolen cigarette on Joyce’s stove before strolling back out and settling down on the hardwood.

As you ran a hand over your face you felt the exhaustion finally settle deep in your bones. Despite feeling useless, you couldn’t help but be glad you were left here to look after the kids. God knows you wouldn’t be of any help in this state.

Head bent backward, you blew up a cloud of smoke, watching as it danced around in the cold November air and clouded the stars above you for just a moment before you inhaled another deep breath, eyes falling closed as you held your breath, the smoke gradually burning your lungs.

“Heard that’s bad for your health.”

The sudden interruption of silence caused your body to jerk, the smoke finally escaping you as you spluttered, feeling like you were hacking up a lung.

Steve settled beside you on the porch step, a dish towel thrown over his shoulder as he waited for you to either stop coughing or keel over and die. He hadn’t meant to scare you half to death, but a smirk pulled at his mouth regardless when you finally turned to him with a glare,

“You are bad for my health, Harrington.”

Taking a second to consider what you’d said, his smirk only grew, “Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” you huffed before offering him the cigarette.

He contemplated it for a moment before declining with a shake of his head, “After surviving Demo-dogs, you think I’m gonna let these things take me out?”

“I’m going to take you out in a minute if you don’t shut up,” you grumbled, stubbing out the half-smoked cigarette.

“Didn’t realize I was your type,” the boy quipped, “I’m a fan of Enzo’s, they have unlimited breadsticks. Not too sure it’s in your budget, though.”

Your glare was much more intense as you stared him down, “You’re not, and God… Why do you always have to be such an ass?”

Steve nudged your shoulder with his own before leaning his arms onto his long, slender legs that were bent awkwardly in front of him, “If you think I’m an ass, you should see what Henderson’s done.”

“What do you mean?” You questioned suspiciously.

“Let's just say,” Steve rubbed a hand through his hair, causing it to look wilder than normal “If Mrs. Byers invites you round for dinner, I'd pass.”

“In the fridge?” You all but screeched, pushing the front door open, eyes darting around for the curly-haired kid, “You put that goddamn dog in Mrs. Byers's fridge?”

“Demo-dog,” you heard Dustin call from the kitchen, making his appearance, “And yes, obviously. As a woman of science, I thought you'd-”

Your nose scrunched up as you shook your head, “No. No, don’t call me that ever again.”

“But I thought-”

“Look, whatever little science fair project you plan on doing with it, fine. Whatever. That’s your business. But you’re cleaning that mess up, and you can explain to Mrs. Byers why there’s a monster in her fridge-”

“Demo-dog,” Dustin stressed again, exasperated.

Rolling your eyes, you turned away from the boy who quickly made his way back to the kitchen and began picking up the abandoned refrigerated food, throwing it straight into the bin.

“Mike, would you stop already?” Lucas sighed, hands holding the dustpan as Max swept up the remaining glass that littered the floor from the Demo-dog's grand entrance.

“You weren’t in there, okay, Lucas?” Mike glared, finally stopping his pacing, “That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.”

“Demo-dogs!” Dustin hollered, clearly annoyed with everyone’s lack of detail.

“The Chief will take care of her,” Lucas tried to reassure the boy, but Mike only rolled his eyes, Max scoffing that the girl clearly didn’t need protection.

Steve made his way toward Mike, trying his best to keep the peace, “Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. All right?”

“Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game. And second, we’re not even in the game. We’re on the bench.”

“Right, so, my point is…” Steve stammered, glancing toward you as five pairs of eyes settled on him, “A little help here?”

You merely shrugged, picking at your cuticle, “Oh, I don’t do sports analogies.”

His mouth opened and closed several times as he sent you an exasperated glare, “…Right. Yeah, we’re on the bench, so, uh… there’s nothing we can do.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Dustin spoke up, causing Steve to peer at him over his shoulder, “I mean, these Demo-dogs�� They have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”

“So if we get their attention…”

“Maybe we can draw them from the lab.” Max finished Lucas’s thought aloud.

“And clear a path to the gate.”

You could almost smell the gears in their head begin to spin.

“Yeah, and then we all die,” Steve chided, his hands falling to his narrow hips and you noticed the dish towel still slung over his shoulder, like an irritated mother.

“That’s one point of view,” Dustin shrugged.

“No, that’s not a point of view, man. That’s a fact.”

“I got it,” Mike pushed through the two, leading you all toward one of the drawings that hung on the wall, “This is where the Chief dug his hole. This is our way into the tunnel. So…”

Moving back toward the living room, he stood on top of where some drawings were taped together on the floor, all tunnels seemingly leading to that point, “So, you got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire…”

“Oh, yeah? That’s a no.” Steve interrupted, unamused and unwilling to hear the boy out, but the gang was already considering it.

“The Mind Flayer would call away his army.”

“They’d all come to stop us.”

“Hey… Guys.” Steve tried to interrupt once again, his patience well and truly leaving the building as they continued to talk over him, “Hey, hey, hey!”

Everyone turned their attention toward the boy as he lowered his voice, “This is not happening.”

“But-”

“No, no, no, no, no. No buts. We promised that we’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing, right?”

Realizing Steve was now looking to you for backup, your mouth opened and closed a few times, much like a goldfish aimlessly swimming around a too-small bowl. Your eyes darted between the kids almost pleading looks, and Steve’s stern stare. Sighing, you closed your mouth and shrugged, silently agreeing with the older teen, even if the plan seemed… workable.

“We’re staying here, on the bench, and we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand?”

“This isn’t a stupid sports game, ”Mike tried to argue one last time, but it fell on deaf ears.

Pulling the towel from his shoulder and using it to point at the group, Steve repeated himself, “I said does everybody understand that? I need a yes.”

Before any of the kids could agree, the sound of an engine revving outside pulled everyone’s attention away. It was way too early for anyone to be back, plus, the only one of you who could afford a car that made that kind of noise was standing opposite you.

Max, clearly recognizing the sound, dashed toward the window, Lucas next to her as they watched the familiar blue Camero drive up the path, headlights blinding as he drove a little too fast.

“It’s my brother,” Max sighed, “He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us.”

The sound of screeching tires caused your feet to move toward the door before your brain could calculate a plan. Steve, however, caught hold of your elbow, brows almost pinching together as he shook his head,

“Where are you going?”

“He’s not gonna just go away. He knows someone is home, it wouldn’t be weird for me to be here.”

“And what exactly are you gonna say to him?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I thought maybe I’d ask him on a coffee date. What the hell do you think I’m gonna say.”

Steve scoffed, his hand falling from your elbow as he crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m not… I’m not gonna let you go out there after what happened. He said-”

“I don’t care what he said, Harrington. He isn’t going to just leave.”

“I’ll go-”

“Oh, please. He’s been gunning for you all week.”

Grabbing the towel from his shoulder, Steve pushed it into your hands, a serious expression falling over his features, “Stay here with them. I got this, alright?”

Leaning against the closed door, you could barely hear the boy’s conversation but you knew damn well that Steve, in fact, did not have this. Your eyes were closed as you concentrated on the mumbled words spoken between the two outside.

The younger teens suddenly fell onto the sofa underneath them, eyes wide with panic.

“Shit, did he see us?” Dustin questioned, causing you to straighten up.

Sending them an incredulous glare, you pushed away from the door slightly, “Oh my God, get away from the window!”

The sound of a body hitting the ground, quickly followed by a second grunt caused you to try and peer through the frosted glass of the door, unsure as to whether it was Harrington, or Hargrove who was now making their way up the porch.

You barely had enough time to dodge out of the way as the door swung open and bumped harshly against your shoulder, the momentum causing you to stumble to the floor as Billy stepped foot in the Byers home.

His cruel eyes darted between where you were sprawled out on the floor, and Max as she stood surrounded by the boys, face remaining stoic as he slammed the door shut behind him, blocking your view of Steve, who was taking a moment to recover out on the driveway, “Well, well, well…”

Stepping over you, Billy’s eyes now focused on his primary target, “Lucas Sinclair. What a surprise.”

Your brows furrowed together as you pushed yourself to your feet, ignoring the ache in your arm as your eyes bore into the back of Billy’s head as he approached his step-sister, “I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max.”

“Billy, go away.” Max’s voice shook, but she stood her ground.

“Hargrove, c’mon…” You stepped forward, heart thumping against your rib cage in what seemed like a great escape.

“You disobeyed me,” the older teen said, low and gruff, using his height to leer over the girl, “And you know what happens when you disobey me… I break things.”

Billy moved quickly, and before you had a chance to stop him, he grabbed Lucas by the collar of his jacket, dragging him across the kitchen and slamming him into the small shelving unit.

The kids yelled for him to stop as you launched yourself across the room, “Hargrove! Get off of him!”

Your hand made contact with Billy’s burgundy shirt, attempting to tug him off the younger boy, but he was much stronger than you. His right arm shot out, knocking you away from him and causing your head to hit the corner of the cabinet behind you on your way to the floor, unable to catch yourself.

Billy leaned in close, threatening Lucas once more, but you could barely hear him, the whooshing sound that reverberated between your ears taking front and center of your attention as your hand reluctantly touched the crown of your head, causing you to flinch and pull your now blood-stained fingers away quickly.

Before you knew what had happened, Billy was forced away from him, Lucas’s foot connecting with a much more sensitive body part of the older boys.

Billy merely took seconds to recover, his eyes now full of fire, “You’re so dead, Sinclair! You’re dead.”

“No,” a strained voice came from behind, forcing the older boy away and allowing you to see Steve who had finally made his way off the floor outside, “No. You are.”

Steve’s fist flew, connecting with Billy’s nose and causing the boy to spin, but not quite fall, his sneakers barely missing your fingers that were staining the linoleum.

Steve’s eyes glanced over at your huddled frame as he shook out his fist before they found Lucas — who was now the center of a group hug before Billy’s loud, mocking laughter caught his attention,

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh?” Billy practically shouted, blood slowly trickling from his nose, “I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about.”

Steve remained stoic as Billy approached him, a firm hand against his chest as he pushed the boy away slightly, “Get out.”

But Billy wasn’t leaving without a fight.

Steve managed to duck, avoiding Billy’s initial attack, and land his own punch against the boy’s cheek causing him to bump into the table. Pulling himself back up quickly, Billy continued to taunt Steve as he laughed out loud, even when Steve hit him again and again, pushing the boy past you, and into the kitchen sink.

The kids yelled for Steve, cheering him on, and you were genuinely impressed. Either Steve had been practicing since last year, or Billy was a much better fighter with his words and not his fists.

That thought, however, quickly changed when Billy lifted a clean plate from the draining board next to the sink, smashing it over Steve’s head and causing the boy to lose his bearing. Which made the next punch all too easy.

“Hargrove, stop!” You tried to yell, attempting to push yourself upright, but your sneaker slipped on a small piece of china, causing you to crash back down, your vision dotted.

With a swift headbutt, Billy continued his relentless attack, even once Steve was on the floor and unable to fight back. A dirty fighter, that made much more sense.

Billy crowded over Steve, his fists flying as he took out a wave of anger that seemed far too exorbitant to be over a step-sister he claimed he really didn’t like.

Finally managing to steady your footing, you used the cabinet to pull yourself up, smearing bits of blood over the counter as you stumbled over toward the sink, looking for something, anything to stop Billy’s attack.

Your fingers found the glass you’d been drinking out of earlier — the one you’d originally poured for Steve — and cursed slightly as it fumbled from your grasp. Once you were sure your grip was tight enough, you raised your arm, throwing the glass directly at Billy. Whether it hit his head or his back, you couldn’t quite make out, but when he halted his vicious attack on Steve and slowly peered over his shoulder at you, your hands grasped onto another plate that had been draining on the side.

Billy’s mouth pulled up into a sardonic smirk, goading you as if you hadn't already thrown a glass at him. His smile dropped quickly, however, when he found himself having to raise an arm to block the plate as you threw it like a frisbee, this time purposely aiming for his head.

You couldn’t tell whether it was through your fear or your potential concussion, but it felt like everything was moving in slow motion. Billy pushed himself up, chest heaving with hostility as he approached you, and it felt like you were underwater, unable to move quick enough to escape his wrath.

“People like you never learn, do you? What did I tell you last time?” Billy didn’t give you a chance to answer as he — almost tauntingly — made his way toward you with slow, steady steps as he licked his lips, “I said, I wouldn’t be so nice about you hitting me again.”

Thankfully, Max had already darted into action. Grabbing the spare needle from the side, Max dashed toward Billy, injecting him in the neck from behind before he could reach you.

You saw the confusion fall over Billy’s face as he turned slightly, eyes meeting the enraged stare of his step-sister. The room remained quiet, everyone watching with bated breath as Billy tried to step forward but his wobbling legs were unable to hold him up properly, the sedative already working its way through his body.

“What the hell is this?” Billy’s bloodied hands fumbled with the syringe, finally managing to pull it out of his neck before he fell to his knees, “You little shit, what did you do?”

Max sidestepped him easily, the boy’s body seemingly turning boneless as he fell from his knees, flat out onto his back. Still, he continued to jeeringly laugh.

Grabbing the nailed bat and raising it high, Max made her way toward Billy, “From here on out, you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?”

“Screw you,” Billy practically babbled, his eyes trying to focus on the redhead.

The bat swung down harshly, right between the boy's legs, causing him to peer down, shock evident on his face.

Ripping the bat from where it stuck into the floor, Max raised it again, “Say you understand! Say it!”

“I understand,” Billy mumbled, his vision tunneling as his fight to remain conscious became a losing battle.

Once it was clear Billy was not waking up any time soon, you all began to move. Dustin and Mike made their way over to Steve, both fussing before Mike rushed off to get a wet cloth in an attempt to wipe off some of the blood, whilst Lucas wrapped an arm around your waist, helping you toward where Steve lay, sprawled across the floor.

“Holy shit,” you grumbled as you took in the boy's battered and bruised face as you rested on your knees next to him. Mike returned with the cloth, handing it to you as you tried your best to stop the blood from gushing out of Steve’s nose. You wouldn’t be shocked if it was broken, especially as one of his eyes was already beginning to blacken and swell.

“I found these,” Dustin huffed, pulling out a few decorated plasters from Mrs. Byers's first aid kit.

“I don’t think they’re gonna do much-”

“We need to get out of here. If we’re gonna do this, we need to leave now.”

“We can’t just leave him,” Dustin huffed. Steve had just almost kicked Billy’s ass for them, he wasn’t about to leave him here.

“Especially not with Billy. If he wakes up first, there’s no knowing what he’ll do.”

Mike’s head whipped around in your direction, “Then what do you suggest?”

Blinking a few times in an attempt to focus your slightly blurred vision, you released a sigh, “You can’t just go down into the tunnels.”

Lucas shook his head, “We can’t just stay here and do nothing, either.”

“I’m not… That’s not what I’m saying,” the group turned toward you, faces shrouded in confusion, “I’m just saying we can’t just go into the tunnels. We need to be able to get out of them, too. And we don’t know what’s down there, or how it affects us. We need supplies.”

Mike stepped forward, eyes watching you warily, “We’re gonna do this? You're in?”

“I thought it was a pretty decent plan, so yeah, I'm in… I'm all in.”

You had argued for a solid five minutes that you should be the one to drive Billy’s car, considering you were the only conscious person in the room old enough for a license. But as you stood to make your way toward Max, hand held out of the keys, your vision tunneled, causing you to stumble, swallowing down the wave of nausea that felt unrelenting.

So, somehow you ended up sitting next to Dustin in the back seat of the Camero, Steve’s head resting on your lap as you held an ice pack to his face, the other hand grasping the passenger seat’s headrest, cursing Max under your breath whenever she took a turn a little too sharply.

Too occupied with keeping yourself firmly in the car, you didn’t notice Steve wake up until he began to grumble, his eyes meeting yours as he gazed up at you. You caught his hand as he tried to rub at his bruised face when Max hit a pothole a little zealously, and placed it back over his chest, “It’s best if you don’t touch it.”

“Hey, buddy,” Dustin cooed, smiling down at Steve as the boy began to look around, unsure of where he was, or how he got there, “It’s okay, you put up a good fight. He kicked your ass, but you put up a fight.”

“Henderson, that’s not really helping.” You scolded the boy as you rearranged the ice pack when Steve tried to bat it away.

“Okay, you’re gonna keep straight for a half mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai.”

“What’s going on?” Steve grumbled, his words slurred slightly as he looked up at Max peering over the steering wheel. Then at you.

Then at Max again, because why the hell was a thirteen-year-old driving?

Adrenaline flooded Steve’s system, causing him to begin to panic, “Oh my god…”

The boy tried to sit up, despite laying across the entire back seat, and essentially over yourself, Dustin, and Mike. Pushing his shoulder, you tried soothing him, “Steve, it’s fine, alright? You just need to calm down-”

“What’s going on?!” He asked, his voice much higher than before as Max floored it. If Steve had panicked before, he was now well on his way to having a coronary, “Stop the car! Slow down!”

“I told you he’d freak out,” Mike glared toward Dustin as Steve continued to do just that, leading to Max screaming at them all to shut up and let her concentrate.

After a — once again — too-sharp left turn, you passed Mount Sinai, taking an all too innocent mailbox with you, your knuckles aching from how hard you clutched at the passenger seat, uncaring if you tore the leather.

That would be the least of Billy’s worries.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut

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mioyeo · 1 year

Text

8 makes 1 Team

No matter how different, without one of us there is no 8 makes 1 Team

Synopsis : In which 8 boys build a friendship despise of their differences with the help of a psychiatrist

Pairing : psychiatrist! Reader x Ateez (for now )

Warnings : this chapter includes mentions of , crying , slight anxiety, bonding time , minor panic attack, Wooyoung being mean to Seonghwa , OCD , starvation, please tell me if I forgot something , and I’m not romanticizing disorders in anyway and this is pure fiction meaning this doesn’t represent Ateez in any type of way

Tag list : @veneziamadness , @hcyaa , @sadcoffeecritic , @aapplepii , @lavishloving , @dogsongy , @acciocriativity

Also if you want to be added to the tagging list for the next chapter comment so I can add you

Word count : 2,6k

She checked in early and started walking towards the room she prepared for the first group to have breakfast

A table suitable for the four of them to sit comfortably on cozy chairs, each one with their cup and plates and in front of them plenty of many varieties of food and especially the things they requested

" First one to be picked up is Seonghwa "

She locked the room and made her way towards the 0300 area greeting the guards that were in their morning shift

" Has he had troubles while sleeping? "

" Surprisingly he was very calm "

She smiled and went inside quietly to not wake up the sleeping boy

" Seonghwa morning "

She shook him gently to not scare him that much

" Seonghwa it's time for breakfast "

The boy gasped and backed away before realizing who it was

" Did I scare you ? "

" A-A little "

He yawned and rubbed his eyes

" Well good morning sunshine "

Y/n smiled and looked as he stretched himself

" Morning Y/n , you came "

The boy smiled and hugged her

" Of course I promised you didn't I ? "

He nodded and slipped into his bunny crocs

" I need to freshen up "

Seonghwa ran towards his sink and started to brush his teeth and wash his face

" We will pick up our next group member "

The boys eyes widened as he dried his face

" A-Another member , is he mean ? "

" Don't worry Seonghwa, the next member is a year younger than you and he might use sign language with you since he's not really used to speak with others using his voice "

" Will he make fun of my bunny crocs ? "

" He actually has the same crocs but just with oranges on them instead of bunnies "

She smiled extending her hand

" You don't need to worry , now is it ok if we go pick up the next friend? "

The blonde boy grabbed her hand after double checking if his room was tidy and the windows closed and trailed shyly behind her as they made their way towards the 0800 area

" What will we do after breakfast? "

" I actually had a fun creative idea for you guys so you can be busy and not bored "

" What is it ? "

" It's a Surprise "

They stopped in front of the door and went inside seeing the ginger boy already sitting on his bed swaying them back and forth

" Morning Mingi "

He looked at her and smiled but his smile changed into a a curios open mouthed one

' Who's the boy behind you ? '

He signed and came forward peeking behind her shoulder

" This is Seonghwa one of the friends we will be having breakfast for a while with "

' Is he shy ? I hope I didn't scare him '

Mingi signed sadly and back away

As if Seonghwa understood what the boy said he moved away from behind Y/n and waved with a tiny smile

" See he's not scared of you Mingi "

" Y-Yeah I'm-m not scared I'm just surprise because your taller than me "

Mingi giggled

' Thank you you'll grow to don't worry '

Y/n laughed and rubbed Seonghwa's back who smiled confused

" What did he say? "

" He said you don't need to worry because your still growing "

Seonghwa smiled and stepped in front of Mingi

" Come on we will eat breakfas-st "

Mingi smiled and nodded at the blonde boy

" Now we will go and pick up our next friend "

They all went out Mingis room and went towards the next room

" Let's be quiet seems like he is still sleeping "

Seonghwa turned towards Mingi who looked at him and nodded quietly making a shushing sound

" Good morning Wooyoung "

The boy looked up and yawned smiling

" Y/nnn you came "

He threw the covers away from his body and was about to hug her but stopped as he saw Seonghwa looking around and fiddling with his fingers

" Seonghwa don't worry it's ok "

The ginger boy looked concerned as Y/n calmed down the other boy

" What is wrong with him ? "

Wooyoung looked at the boy confused as he went to brush his teeth

" Nothing is wrong with him he was just startled by you throwing your covers loudly "

She kept rubbing his back as he looked at her afraid

" Seonghwa don't worry everything is ok "

" H-His room is so messy I-I can't "

He detached himself from her and started tidying up his bed and pick up the mess of paper he hand on the floor

' Why is he tidying up Wooyoung's room ? '

Mingi signed confused

' Seonghwa has a disorder called obsessive compulsive disorder '

' What does that have to do with tidying up '

' People with OCD have the need to repeat the same actions all over again and in Seonghwa's case he can't see messy things that's why he likes clean and tidy places and this act is called compulsive behavior "

' Compulsive behavior? '

' For example, checking your windows the whole time to make sure their closed ‘

' So it means doing things more than once ? '

' Yeah exactly'

' Why does someone become this ? '

' Genetics, differences in the brain and a lot of other things '

Mingi nodded fully understanding

" I'm done brushing my teeth Y/n"

Wooyoung yelled exited making Seonghwa cover his ears and stare at him

" Why are you so loud i-in the morning "

" I'm exited to see Y/n , am I not allowed to be exited now ? "

The blonde-black haired boy scoffed and looked at the blonde annoyed

" Stop touching my bedsheets "

" It-ts messy and I need to tidy it "

He straightened the blanket and backed away

" Don't you know it's rude to touch peoples stuff without their permission? "

" I-I was just helping you "

Seonghwa hurriedly walked back towards Mingi and Y/n who smiled at him

" Wooyoung it's ok Seonghwa just wanted to help you out "

" Yeah so don't be mad at him "

Mingi said and put his arm around Seonghwa's shoulder who looked at him

" He talked Y/n "

" Woah his voice is deep "

Wooyoung laughed

" Is it something bad to have a deep voice ? "

" I just think it's very cool I wish I had it too "

The boy looked at the taller with a small smile

" Your voice is adorable "

" My dad said I sound annoying "

He gritted his teeth but stopped when Mingi patted his back

" Your dad doesn't know what he's talking about, I like your voice it's strangely comforting "

“Y/n watched them interact with a smile on her face , she didn't expect for them to bond that fast

" Ok boys we still need to pick up two friends and than we can go eat "

" I thought we where only four people "

Seonghwa looked behind him and than back to Wooyoung who looked at him confused

" Our friend has a little bear "

Mingi's mouth opened as he understood following with Wooyoung's nodding

" A B-Bear ?! I don't want to go what if it eats me or attacks me "

Seonghwa looked afraid making Wooyoung scoff

" Are you really that dumb or something? , why would they let a freaking living animal inside a mental hospital ? Let alone a bear "

" Wooyoung , remember what I had told you yesterday "

" It's not my faul that he's dum-"

Y/n looked at him and shook her head

" Seonghwa it's a stuffed bear don't worry sweetheart it's just a cute little one "

" And Wooyoung it's not nice to call your friends dumb it can hurt their feelings "

Seonghwa looked like he was on the verge of tears but Mingi held his shoulder and shook his head with a smile

" Now if we enter the room we have to be very quiet to not wake him up "

She said and entered after checking in and slowly walked towards the younger

" Jongho , wake up it's breakfast time "

Y/n shook him slightly as the boy stirred

" See Seonghwa it's just a cute bear "

Mingi whispered softly as Seonghwa nodded

" Jongho "

He finally opened his eyes and rubbed them before sitting up with his hair sticking all up

“ Morning Y/n ”

The boy yawned and looked around before landing his eyes on the three boys behind her

" Are they the ones you mentioned yesterday?"

" Yes , you'll be having breakfast with everyone here until I put you together with the second group so I can watch and monitor every one "

He nodded and stood up to go and get ready

" H-His room is clean "

Seonghwa looked around as Wooyoung looked at him crossing his arms

" Is your room even clean?"

" I-I cant stand seeing messy things "

Y/n watched them carefully as Wooyoung suddenly approached the duo

" How old are you guys actually ? "

She smiled seeing him trying to contain himself and actually interact

" I'm sixteen "

Seonghwa replied looking at Mingi who gulped

" I'm 14 but I forgot when my birthday is "

" Me too , I just know that I'm 12 I lost interest since they don't celebrate my birthdays here "

" W-Why don't they celebrate your birthdays here ? birthdays are important "

" Yeah I once saw the way people celebrate their birthdays on tv in the recess room "

" What did they do ? "

" This one girl had a full table with delicious things and her cake was huge "

Mingi put his hands up to show how big it was

" Woah, I wouldn't be allowed to eat that much sugar in a day "

" I wouldn't be able to even eat that it's a rich peoples thing to buy big things "

Wooyoung shrugged and looked back seeing

Y/n smile at them as she waited patiently with Jongho

" So have the friends finish talking ? , we are kinda hungry and want to go eat "

She chuckled and opened the door for them to go out so she could check out

" I'm exited for my cheese toast "

Jongho spoke to his bear slightly patting its head

" What did you guys ask to eat? "

" I asked for strawberry milk "

" I don't remember asking for anything special, does it mean I'm not gonna eat breakfast Y/n "

" No Mingi , I made sure there is plenty of variety you can choose from "

" I didn't ask for anything either can I eat too ?"

" Of course you can Wooyoung"

He smiled as she ruffled his hair

" I thought I wouldn't be able to eat because i threatened you yesterday "

" Wooyoung , even thought it's not good to threaten people , I would never use that as a excuse to not let you eat or make it a punishment so trust me "

" My dad used to do this so I thought maybe you would too "

She shook her head and smiled at him for assurance

" Well before I open this magical door, who wants to sit next to who ? since I saw you getting comfortable with each other already "

Upon hearing that Wooyoung grabbed her arm and Seonghwa as well

" I'll sit next to him "

Mingi pointed at Jongho who looked down scared because he thought nobody would want to sit with him

" So it's settled Mingi and Jongho "

Mingi smiled softly and scratched the back of his head nervously as to why the younger wasn't looking at him

' Does he not want to sit with me Y/n ? did I do something wrong ? '

He signed looking at her with puzzled look

" Mingi , Jongho is just a bit shy and you didn't do anything wrong ok ? "

The boy looked hesitant and waited patiently

" I'll open the door now and than you'll sit wherever you want to sit "

She unlocked the door and heard loud gasps

" Wow this is a beautiful room "

Seonghwa looked amazed at how well everything was organized and colorful

" I want to sit near the chocolate buns "

Wooyoung raced inside and sat down covering his mouth

" What's wrong ? "

" These chairs are so soft and comfortable "

He smiled and looked at the food

" Well Seonghwa what do you think "

The boy didn't reply as he stared at the pink strawberry milk pack in amazement

" Do you like it that much ? "

Y/n chuckled and smiled before signaling the boy to sit

" I don't want to hold you back so dig in "

Jongho looked at her waved her over

" I don't know how to toast this "

He whispered to her ashamed

" Don't worry how about Mingi helping you ? "

The younger looked at the taller and took a deep breath closing his eyes

" C-Can you help me toast my bread ? "

He opened an eye cautiously as Mingi looked at him with a half smile

" Put your bread in first "

Mingi waited for the boy to place his bread on the sandwich maker

" Now you close it and wait until this button turns green than you take it out "

" Thank you "

" Can I ask you a question? "

Jongho hummed and looked up

" Are you perhaps scared of me ? "

" You look intimidating so I was a bit scared "

Mingi nodded and looked away sighing before eating his cereal with strawberries inside

' Don't worry Mingi , he'll open up to you as time paces '

She had tapped the table for him to look at her

' Nobody seems to like me I'm just a burden and tall and scary '

He started crying with his head hung low

" Mingi , please don't cry "

She rushed to his side and wiped away his tears

" I like you a lot Mingi , and the boys just got to meet you we can't expect them to directly like you without getting to know you first right ? "

He sniffed at looked at her before nodding

" Give them some time to get to know the Mingi you want them to befriend "

Y/n wiped his tears and ruffled his hair making him smile again

" Go ahead and eat we don't want you cereal to be soggy "

She stood up and observed everything slowly with a chuckle seeing how Seonghwa struggled watching Wooyoung get messy with his chocolate bun

" Stop touching the strawberries with your boogie stained fingers !"

The elder screeched after seeing Wooyoung pick his nose

" I don't have boogers on my fingers see "

He held it closer to the elders face making him stand up and scream

" Stop it ! "

" Wooyoung stop he doesn't want you doing that to him , and don't touch food after doing what you just did "

Y/n handed him wipes and chuckled

" Now I can't eat the strawberries "

Seonghwa started tearing up and banged his fists on the table catching Jongho of guard

" Hey calm down we still have more strawberries don't worry "

She handed him more strawberries and rubbed his back to calm him down

" Jongho does it taste good ? "

He nodded smiling as he ate his cheesy bread

" I want to try that too it looks good "

Wooyoung looked at Jongho who looked at him and handed him a piece

" Thank you "

" Y/n what are the boxes on the other table ? "

" There are drink bottles inside"

" W-Why do we need bottles "

Seonghwa sniffed and wiped his nose

" I'll let you paint on them so you can have your own bottle to drink from it whenever you want of feel like it

" Woah, are there different colors? "

Mingi smiled brightly

" There are different types you can choose "

She waited until everyone finished and handed them wipes to clean themselves

" Can we paint now ? "

" Sure don't stress about it "

" It's gonna get messy here "

Seonghwa looked overwhelmed seeing at the paints and markers

" Seonghwa sometimes it's ok to get messy don't worry about it we can clean afterwards "

" But I don't want to get messy , I'm clean "

“ That’s fine , just be careful than “

She moved them to the other table she set up quickly so they could start designing their own drinking bottles

“ Remember what I said ”

“ Don’t provoke anyone else while they work ”

Y/n smiled and gave high-five’s before playing some classic music to calm their nerves

“ I feel like a painter ”

Mingi smiled at Wooyoung’s response and hummed in agreement

“ Do you guys feel calm now ? ”

They all nodded making her smile and sit down and start writing into her group journal

#ateez #ateez angst #ateez atiny #ateez fluff #ateez hongjoong #ateez imagines #ateez jongho #ateez mingi #ateez san #ateez seonghwa #ateez yeosang #ateez x reader #ateez wooyoung #ateez yunho #ateez fic #angst with a happy ending

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tom-foolery-incorporated · 2 years

Text

Stiff as a Board

>My PTSD has been acting up lately so I wanted to write some ANGST. Ends with fluff though because I am soft and squishy

>Gender neutral and racially ambiguous reader, mentions of emotional and verbal abuse, mentions of abusive father figures, mentions of mental health, SFW, angst with a soft ending, Lucifer doesn't know the reader has PTSD, relapse of a binge eating disorder and mentions of body image, MC gets triggered and starts spiraling, platonic or romantic relationship with Lucifer not specified

"You can't keep getting grades like this!"

"Mhm."

"You're supposed to be representing the human realm. What does that say about the rest of your kind?"

"Mhm."

"Mammon has been too much of a bad influence on you! I shouldn't have-"

You didn't pay attention to the rest of Lucifer's lecture. You could only sit there frozen with your eyes on his freshly polished black shoes. Your hands clenched on your lap as memories played through your mind. Just sit there, agree, and stay quiet and it'll all be over soon. Your room didn't feel safe anymore. Suddenly you were transported back to your childhood room. Instead of the luxurious plush bed with the vines growing overhead you were on your childhood bed. Your father sat across from you in your computer chair berating you. "You'll never amount to anything like that!" "I slave away every day and this is how you thank me?" "No one wants to be around you when you do X, Y, and Z." "What did I tell you? No, I want you to say it. What did I tell you?"

You hadn't realized you haven't blinked until your eyes started to burn but you can't blink now. If you blink then tears will come to your eyes and he'll think you're crying looking for pity. Instead, you sat there motionless agreeing with whatever he was saying when you were prompted.

"MC!"

You snapped out of your trance to meet the crimson gaze of Lucifer. He had his hands on his hips with your failing paper crumpled in his right hand. "Did you hear what I said?" He looked down at your stiff form on the bed expecting a response.

"Mhm."

"I don't think you did because all I've been hearing you say is 'mhm' 'mhm' 'mhm' over and over again!"

"Sorry."

"Sorry Isn't good enough. I need to know that you're going to do better."

You were back in your childhood room. "I don't want to hear you saying sorry! Don't say it unless you mean it! I know you didn't mean it because you went and did it anyway!"

"I want to hear you say it."

Suddenly Lucifer started looking a lot like your father. "I want you to promise me you'll do better."

"I'll do better." Your voice was flat and monotone as your eyes glazed over. Just sit there, agree, and stay quiet and it'll all be over soon.

"Thank you," Lucifer sighed, "remember that it's your turn to make dinner tonight." With that he turned away from you and slipped out the door making sure to close it on his way out. You finally blinked letting the soothing tears lubricate your eyes. A breath left your body you didn't even realize you were holding. Was it safe to move? If you moved would he hear you and come back? You sat there still as a board with your ears at attention listening to Lucifer's shoes pat down the hallway until you couldn't hear him anymore. Still how sure can you be that it's safe to move? Maybe if you stayed still for a little longer.

This wasn't your space anymore. This space was now controlled by him. You could smell his cologne and the laundry detergent he always bought in the air. You were in your childhood room.

You jolted at the sound of your phone buzzing. Shit, did he hear that? You waited a couple seconds before checking your phone.

"MC?" It was Beel.

"Yes?"

"What're you making for dinner 🤤?"

Shit what were you going to make for dinner?

"Maybe we can order some pizza?"

"Sure! I'll have 3 meat lovers, a newt tail pizza, and 7 pepperoni. Thanks MC!"

Guess you have to go ahead and ask the other brothers what they want.

Lucifer.

Maybe you could just order whatever classic pizzas the pizza place has and skip asking the brothers what they want.

"Mammon, can you get that?" Asmodeus said in reference to the knock at the door. He sat on the sofa filing his nails. In front of him on the coffee table were various nail polish bottles and a manicure set. "Hey!" Mammon responded resting his magazine on his stomach, "why do I have to go and get the door? You're closer!" The door bell rang this time. "I'll get it," Satan grumbled making his way down the hallway.

"We have a delivery for the House of Lamentation?" The pizza demon stood in the doorway with two arm fulls of pizza boxes.

"Yes," Satan responded taking the pizza from the demon, "and how much will that be?"

"Oh," the demon sounded confused, "you already payed online."

"Right. Thank you." Satan unceremoniously shut the door turning to his brothers trying to balance the pizza boxes in his arms. "Come help me with this. I think MC ordered pizza for dinner." Mammon sprung up to peak inside one of the boxes.

"Hey, what'd they get?"

"Stop messing with the boxes and help me!"

The smell of garlic crust and cheese wafted down the halls of the House of Lamentation. You hadn't even realized that the food was here until you heard Beel knocking on your door. "MC! Pizzas here!"

You swung your legs off of your bed and onto the cool wood floor. Your room didn't feel safe but out there felt even worse. Still if you didn't show up to eat he might come back and berate you some more. A quick peak out your door showed you that the coast was clear so you made your way to the dining room.

The bustling bodies swiftly grabbed and pass around plates so everyone could grab a piece of pizza before Beel went and ate them all. "MC!" Asmo wrapped his arm around your shoulder making you jump, "how could you get all of this greasy food! You know how bad it is for my skin." He looked at you with puppy dog eyes yet he had a slice of pizza on his plate.

"Sorry."

"Oi! Leave them alone! You should be thankful you're eating at all!"

"Oh relax Mammon, I was just giving them a hard time."

"Here MC." Satan handed you a plate with two slices of pizza on it which you took and held stiffly in your hands.

"MC," Lucifer called at the entrance of the dining room, "I thought you were going to cook dinner?"

Oh no. Fuck you messed up again. Stupid stupid stupid stupid! If you don't say something he'll think you're ignoring him but you can't find a way to respond without sounding meek and pathetic.

"Why does it matter? We got pizza!" Leviathan covered his mouth as he responded to Lucifer.

"I meant nothing by it. I was just mistaken."

You sat down next to Mammon who rambled to you about this new Grimm making idea he had read in his magazine earlier. You tried to eat your pizza but every bite you felt you'd get punished for. You were supposed to cook dinner, you thought to yourself, you messed up again. On top of that you got junk food.

"You shouldn't be eating this." His voice rang through your head, "what did I tell you? You're already so big you can't eat like that!"

"Oi! MC," Mammon nudged you, "what's gotten into you?"

"Sorry. I'm fine," you brushed him off putting on a smile. "What were you saying again?"

"He was just talking about one of his stupid schemes," Belphegor retorted.

"Hey! It wasn't stupid! It was full proof this time." Mammon slapped his hand on the table.

You couldn't stay here with so much noise. The slice you didn't finish ended up back in its box as you excused yourself from the dining room. Mammon watched your figure leave down the hallway to the stairs.

Midnight. You regretted not finishing your dinner. How much weight would you have gained if you did? Wait, that's not how that works. "I already told you you're going to get fat if you eat like that!" You pressed your hands to your eyes trying to get his voice out of your head. Still, you were hungry and needed something to eat. Your feet carried you our of your room and down the stairs to the kitchen. Surprisingly the lights were off and Beel wasn't having his late night feast. You flicked the switch on and made your way to the fridge. Another surprise, there was a box of pizza left. You opened it to find a whole pizza plus the slice you had put back. Cold pizza never bothered you anyway so you grabbed the whole thing and gently placed it onto the kitchen counter. You started with the loose slice of pizza you hadn't touched earlier that night. It tasted better now that no one was around you. Another slice wouldn't hurt, after all you were still hungry. Suddenly tears spilled from your eyes.

How can you be so stupid? First you fuck up your paper then you don't even cook dinner. You keep on taking the easy way out of things! No wonder you're so bad at everything, you thought to yourself. You jammed another slice into your mouth trying to chew between sobs. Once you swallowed you jammed another slice in your mouth while you held another in your other hand. Each piece went down your throat only to be chased down by another. Stupid stupid stupid stupid!

"MC?"

You froze in place looking down at the pizza box. You had managed to eat the whole pizza without realizing it. Your eyes move upwards to meet Lucifer's who stood at the entrance to the kitchen with a concerned look on his face. Fuck, he caught you.

"I'm sorry!" you said with your mouth full trying to wipe tears from your face, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

"MC," Lucifer cautiously stepped closer to you, "what happened?'

"I'm sorry!"

"MC, it's okay. Just tell me what happened," Lucifer reached out hold you but you recoiled curling in on yourself at his display of affection.

"MC?" You had never done this before. Lucifer looked at you with stern concern on his chiseled features. Whatever had happened he had to make it right. You were his responsibility and he couldn't let something so bad happen to you that you relapsed.

"It's okay, MC," Lucifer said in a soft voice, "just tell me what happened." How could you tell him? You'd get in even more trouble if you told him he'd hurt you. But this wasn't your dad. Lucifer was the one standing in front of you with such unbridled concern on his face that it made you feel even more guilty than you already did. Lucifer took a napkin from the counter and gently held your face in the other hand while he wiped the pasta sauce from around your mouth. He noticed how you tensed up and how the tears kept rolling down your beautiful cheeks.

"Do you want to come to my room and tell me what happened?" He'd never seen you shake your head faster at the mention of being in his room. "Okay," he said softly "let's sit down and you can tell me what's wrong." Lucifer guided your trembling form to the living room to sit on one of the couches. With a click, he turned on one of the table lamps and sat across from you on the opposite couch.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled wiping the tears from your eyes.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

That just made the tears even worse. You hunched in on yourself sobbing at what he had said. This wasn't your father. This was Lucifer who cared for you. Yes he was stern but he'd never intentionally harm you.

"You just," you started between sobs, "you just reminded me of him."

"Of who?"

"When you were in my room earlier and I had failed that paper-"

"Is that what this is about? MC-"

"You reminded me of my dad."

The sternness dropped from Lucifer's voice at that. "What about your father?"

"He wasn't a good man."

Fuck. Lucifer clenched his fists waiting to hear you out.

"He said I was fat and stupid and that I'd never amount to anything and-"

"Oh, MC."

"Whenever I did something wrong no matter how small he'd go on and on about how I'm a fuck up."

Guilt riddled through Lucifer's body. He should have known. He tracked through his memory trying to remember if there was any mention of this in your file.

"I just get so scared."

That's the last thing he wants is for you to fear him. "I'm sorry MC. I didn't mean to scare you like that." You nodded your head. "Now," Lucifer's voice was softer than you've ever heard him before, "are you forgiving me because you want to or because you feel like you have to?" Realization flowed across your face at his words. All of those times when you didn't really feel closure but forgave the person anyway came back to you. Are you forgiving me because you want to or because you feel like you have to? "I wish you wouldn't lecture me like that," you mumbled finally sharing your thoughts and feelings. "Then I won't," Lucifer started, "but that doesn't mean you get to get away with everything and anything." You nodded wiping the tears from your eyes, "I know."

"I appreciate you sharing this with me," Lucifer spoke, "it takes a lot of courage to be so vulnerable." You smiled at the demon sitting across from you. This wasn't your father; this was Lucifer who loved and cared for you. "Are you okay to go back to bed?" he asked. "Can we talk some more? It doesn't have to be about my dad but I just want to talk," you responded as the tears finally started clearing. "Of course, MC."

#obey me #lucifer #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me x reader #my writing #obey me angst #lucifer angst

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libbee · 2 years

Text

Ever noticed that Clementine says "You should be grateful I am interested in you. I don't even know why I am." during Clem and Joel's fight?

This is because pwBPD do not love the actual person but they love the idea and mental image of a parental figure. BPD is a parental disorder. Case closed. Until Clem will realize that she is projecting a mental image of parental figure on every man she dates, she will not recover from it.

pwBPD rushes into relationship because she wants security. She has no internal judgment whether or not this is a good person she just wants relationship because it feels safe secure to her. She is "easy" because she attaches quickly (within an hour sometimes) but she is "high maintenance" because the relationship is a rollercoaster of emotions. Being in relationship gives her confidence because she reflects the other person and it makes her existence feel real. She is always in a relationship and before ending one relationship she has found the next partner already. She does not love the person for who they are but she loves them for how they make her feel. She wants to feel safe secure confident and gets attached to anyone.

Joel also has low self esteem. He is not a super confident man. This is the case with Patrick too. pwBPD chooses men with low self esteem because it is easy to love bomb and control them. She fears abandonment so much that she would fo anything to not stay single. A man with low self esteem will not leave her and that is what she wants. This is why she makes card, writes letter and overshare everything to create intimacy between her and partner.

This is also the reason Joel says "and then you just took it without waiting for an ansnwer. it was so intimate like we were already lovers." because Clem has no personal boundaries. She wants security so much that she wants to get married on the first date. She acts like they are so intimate already because she has never felt fatherly love and she wants that solid fatherly figure in her life.

Essentially, Clem wants a father who will parent her. When she will go to therapy and heal her inner child, this movie will meet its end. But Clem probably does not go for that. She instead repeats the same idealization cycle again and again instead of taking therapy. This looks cute in movie, right? But in real life it leads to divorce, ruined homes, broken families, ruined lives and this cycle will continue with their children.

While normal people fall in love with someone who shares their values, goals, personality traits, pwBPD falls in love because this person gave her attention. She is sick with love. She is obsessed eith love. She is consumed by love. She wants merger of soul. She will mimic you. She will copy you. She will intuitively find out your needs and become who you want her to be. She will impress you. She will love you like nobody else.

Once you learn to understand yourself, you will realize that you have never actually loved a man but only a parental image that you projected on him. Once your delusion is gone, you will see that life after recovery is mundane, ordinary, plain.

I have been in many romantic situations and none of them were real in the sense that I knew what I was doing. I was simply guided by my emotions and impulses. I would be lalalala love and any X Y Z who would give me attention could become my "boyfriend". I don't know why I did all that. I was desperate insecure validation seeker attention seeker wanted constant reassurance that i am still pretty and cool.

BPD has anxiety as a big issue. I had extreme levels of anxiety that I could not explain. The method to deal with anxiety is simply exposure therapy. When you feel anxious, ride it out. Do not act on it. It will pass. For example, when I was super anxious I would do online chatting for the quick satisfaction that I am still funny, smart, cool. But if I just sit and let it pass, I would realize that the anxiety will calm down sooner or later.

#eternal sunshine of the spotless mind #astrology observations #astrology #astro observations #astro community #shadow self #astroblr #occult #8th house #moon #scorpio woman

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baekhansol · 3 years

Text

relief & reassurance

pairing: san x reader, wooyoung x reader (both san & wooyoung are doms, reader is sub)

genres: comfort, angst-ish, smut, completely self indulgence | rating: mature ! do not interact if a minor

word count: 3812

plot: you're feeling down, and your boyfriends try to make you feel better

warnings: depression, self hatred, skin picking disorder, body weight insecurity, polyamourous relationship, nipple/ breast play, fingering, sex toy usage, oral, bdsm themes, doms/sub relationships, orgasm denial & control, squirting, spanking, choking, biting/marking/slight scratching, a bit of hair pulling, slight teasing, use of pet names (princess, good girl), bulge kink, creampie, unprotected sex (please be safe!!), doggystyle, praise kink, multiple orgasm, pain kink(?), threesome, use of the color light system (just check-ins, no safe word use), subspace, and sweet sweet aftercare - as usual, let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: this is a very very self indulgent fic. a very special thanks to @sugasbabiie for beta reading this for me and pointing out some things that I needed to change 💜💜💜

You felt disgusting, broken, and just downright depressed. You were supposed to hang out with San for the night, but he was running late. So you went ahead and ordered takeout, getting his favorite. Ever since you started dating him and Wooyoung, you would take time to have a date night with them separately and together. That way, you wouldn't always be the victim of their teasing.

You hear San unlocking the door, so you do your best to act fine as you go over to greet him.

"I'm glad you're finally here!" You say, pulling him into a hug.

"Hi baby," he says, his dimples appearing as he hugs you back. "It smells delightful," San adds, pulling back and looking at you. His eyebrow twitches, and you're afraid he is going to ask what was wrong, but instead, he takes off his shoes.

"I'm glad! I bought your favorite barbecue, and I think it might still be warm," you tell him, clapping your hands once as you go to check, San trailing behind.

"Did you already eat?" He checks, looking at you sternly as he breaks the wooden chopsticks.

"Yes, and if you want proof, it's in the trash can," you say, looking down and away.

"Alright," he says, his voice softening immediately. "Go turn something you like on, okay? I'll eat and then clean up."

You nod and kiss his cheek, going back and turning on the show you've been marathoning. San comes and sits next to you, eating and half-heartedly paying attention.

You lean against his shoulder and curl up into your blanket, trying to relax. Your insecurities were getting the better of you.

When San finishes his food, he kisses your cheek. "I'll be back in a few," he says, and you know he is going to shower.

"Make sure to brush your teeth!"

"I will," San responds with a chuckle.

When San returns from cleaning up, you hadn't realized you zoned out from the show and started crying. He turns off the TV and pulls you into his lap slowly, giving you the opportunity to pull away.

You don't, so you end up letting out a soft sob against his chest. San soothingly plays with your hair and rubs your back, letting you cry while saying soothing words in your ear.

"It's okay baby, let it out. I'm here for you, don't worry. You can tell me anything; you know that, right?"

When you’ve calmed down enough, and you blow your nose, San finally asks, "What has you so worked up, Y/N?"

You sigh, looking away and shaking your head.

"I just want to help," he assures you, "So please, tell me."

He wipes your tears away with his thumb, his own eyes full of concern.

"I've just been… feeling really insecure and hating my body," you murmur, looking away. "I hate that I have a stupid skin picking disorder. I hate how fat I am. I hate my stretch marks and my stupid eyes. I hate that I have two incredibly attractive boyfriends, and I'm just a potato," you rant, getting overly worked up to the point you start crying again.

"No, no, no, no, precious no," San says, his heart breaking as he sends a quick text to Wooyoung (get your ass over here asap).

"You're so beautiful, okay? We are all humans with flaws. Woo and I are idols, so that's why you think that. Remember my high school and middle school photos? I'd probably look worse than that now if I weren't an idol and could spend lots of money on skincare," he says with a slight giggle, handing you tissues again.

You take it and blow your nose again, groaning slightly. He just had to be logical.

"And I love all of you. I love your sexy body. I love your personality. I love the way you think and talk; how you see the world. I love your pretty eyes. They can see, you know? So you can see me," he giggles at that a little, gently kissing each of your eyelids.

"I love your pretty lips," he says, running a thumb over them. "I love your body. There's so much to cuddle, and you're soft and even better to cuddle than shiber, but don't tell them." At this, San gently starts caressing your body.

"And you know, your sweet tummy isn't going to be flat like mine. It's hard work to keep abs, and I generally don't eat before we perform to keep them there. Because when I eat, bye bye abs," he tells you, pulling his shirt up to show you how his stomach was just smooth and soft.

"And for your tummy," San begins, laying you down on the couch and pulling your shirt up to kiss it. "Your pretty tummy holds your uterus and the most precious parts of the entire female reproductive system, your ovaries and eggs. And right here," he kisses under your belly button, getting closer to over your pubic bone, a very sensitive spot for you, "right here is where all the magic happens."

You quirk an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain as you feel your cheeks heating up.

"It's where a baby will grow, if we decide to have one, and it's where your body let's you know it's reproductively healthy," he starts, kissing lower and lower each time, until you're biting your tongue to hold back a moan. San picks up the change in your state, swallowing the need to smirk.

"And your legs, your beautiful legs," he murmurs, massaging your feet and up your calves. "They carry you around all day and are so pretty." San kisses your shins, then slowly up your inner thighs, making you squirm.

His strong hands hold you in place as he continues worshiping your body. "You're beautiful thighs," he murmurs, nipping them. "They hide something beautiful between them, but even on their own…" San tries not to groan, as he can tell he is growing hard by your soft gasps. "They're soft and lovely to rest my head on, like your breasts, and I could spend all day marking them up. I love the way they jiggle like your ass does when spanked," he adds, looking you in your eye as he rubs your thigh, what he normally would do before spanking you.

When you nod, he gives them a resounding smack. This time, you don't hold back your moan.

He takes your hands in his, kissing your palms. "Your beautiful hands are perfect to hold, and your arms giving the best hugs, but don't tell Wooyoung or really anyone I said that," San giggles a little again, kissing up your arms, nipping here and there on the soft flesh.

"I know you hate how you pick at your arms, and I know how hard it is for you to control that impulse. But I want to help you, and I assure you Wooyoung feels the same way, okay?" he assures you.

You look away, more embarrassed than aroused now. "Precious, I asked you a question," he says, turning your chin to make you look at him, his dominance coming out.

"Yes sir," you say, biting your lip.

"You don't have to call me sir right now. This is about you. Now, can I make you feel good?" He whispers, his thumb ghosting over your lip as his knee ruts into your core.

"Please," you sigh, wondering if he would ask first or if he would make you beg.

Your word pleased him, as he immediately picks you up and kisses you deeply, carrying you to your bed.

“I love you so much; you know that, right?” San asks as he sets you down on the bed, helping you out of your shirt.

“I do,” you say softly, looking down as your face heats up.

San plants another sweet kiss on your lips, then slowly down your neck.

“Your soft skin is so kissable,” he says with a little giggle, nipping and sucking lightly, just enough to leave slight marks for the day. He undoes your bra, laying you back on the bed as his mouth travels down your decolletage, his hands caressing your breasts.

“You’re so precious to me, and I love all of you,” San assures you. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ll say yellow if you’re uncomfortable? Red if you want to stop?” he adds.

“I love you too,” you whisper, looking down at him lovingly. “And I always will,” you assure him.

He immediately takes one of your breasts in his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing your nipple, causing you to moan out his name.

He smiles against your skin, giving the same attention to the other breast. San begins to kiss down your stomach, humming while he does.

“I love your soft tummy,” he murmurs, looking up at you with utmost sincerity in his eyes. “It makes you extra cuddly,” he giggles.

You blush, not sure how to respond until he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts.

“May I?” San asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes please,” you say, raising your hips to help him. He ends up taking your underwear off as well, a somewhat sheepish smirk on his face.

“Sorry,” he says, his tone rather unconvincing.

You roll your eyes as he spreads your legs, his eyes going face to face with your heat.

“Can I eat you out?” he bluntly asks, his warm fingers opening your folds.

“Please,” you say, letting him position your legs better as he immediately licks your folds, kissing your clit.

You let out a soft whine of pleasure, falling back onto your bed and allowing yourself to relax. San continues to suck on your clit, feeling your arousal start to drip onto his chin as you clench around nothing. Before you could beg for more, San’s tongue enters you, lapping up your arousal and easily hitting the spots that make your orgasm begin to quickly grow. San’s nose rubs against your clit, and he smirks as you grind against his face.

“San~ Sannie~ ah~” you moan, causing him to chuckle softly. The vibrations make your toes curl, and you gasp and grab the sheets.

San reaches up and takes one of your hands in his, gently squeezing it in reassurance as he continues his ministrations.

As you start feeling closer to your orgasm, San stops. He stands up, causing you to whine.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done yet,” he says with a gentle laugh. San opens the drawer where you kept your sex toys and lube, and he takes something out you can’t quite see.

“What color are you?” he asks.

“Still green,” you assure him, trying to smile for him.

San kisses your forehead before going back down on you, this time putting his fingers inside of you. He turns on the bullet vibrator he took on a low setting and presses it against your clit, smirking when you groan his name and buck your hips.

“God, you’re so sexy like this,” he murmurs, kissing your thigh.

You whimper in response, boosting his ego. San turns up the setting on the vibrator, relishing in the power he had over you. He was glad he could help you feel better, even if it was only temporary. Which he hoped it wouldn’t. He wanted his words to have comforted you.

“I’m close-” you begin, your toes curling and thighs shaking.

San immediately pulls his fingers out of you and turns off the vibrator.

“San, what the fuck?” you whine. You weren’t being bratty; you were just confused.

“I promise I am still doing this to make you feel good,” he assures you, setting down the vibrator. “What color are you?” San asks.

“Green,” you admit, causing him to smirk and go back down on you.

After being denied twice, the coil built into a strong pressure, causing you to furrow your brows and whine out his name, being more vocal than usual. You almost feel overstimulated, but he holds your hips in place with firm hands so you can’t escape.

“San, fuck, I’m gonna- fuck!” you nearly sob, suddenly orgasming harder than you have in the past.

He lets you ride his tongue through your orgasm before he pulls up, a confident smirk on his now rather wet face. “I made you squirt,” he says proudly.

“I-?”

“Squirted, yeah,” San smugly confirms, standing up and sauntering to the bathroom. You’re not sure what he is doing in there, but he soon comes back with a dried face and a damp washcloth.

“I want to keep going,” you sheepishly admit.

He nods and cleans off some of the mess, tossing the washcloth into the hamper. “Let's take off the blankets then, yeah?” San says, helping you stand as he strips off the blanket.

You sit back down and look up at him, pulling him in for a kiss when he comes back. “I want you inside me,” you say softly, tugging at his pants.

“Be patient, you will,” he assures you, pulling away to undress himself.

His self-control never failed to surprise you because as soon as he got rid of his clothes, his hard length stood erect.

He hovers back over you, laying you down and kissing you sweetly. San grinds against you to test how sensitive you were. When you shivered, he stopped, continuing to gently kiss you.

San pulls away after a moment in order to align himself with your entrance. “I love you so much,” he tells you, sliding his tip in.

“I love you too, San,” you assure him, gasping as he continues to enter you, stilling only when he was fully seated inside.

“See, your tummy is even bigger now,” San giggles, rubbing your tummy.

“Are you trying to get me to say you have a big cock?” you giggle.

“No, but I wouldn’t be offended if you did say that,” he responds with a giggle of his own.

“San, please move your big cock,” you tease a little, laughing softly.

“As you wish, princess,” San teases right back, beginning to move at a comfortable, intimate pace.

You move your hips in tandem to his thrusts, gasping softly as he brushes your g spot.

“I’m so lucky to have you in my life,” San says, praising you sweetly. “You’re an amazing person, and I can’t believe you love me back.”

You feel yourself blushing, unable to say anything besides soft moans and whines.

“You’re so beautiful. Like this and any other time. You’re always beautiful,” he assures you, reaching down to start rubbing your clit.

You grab onto his bicep that was holding him up, whimpering his name.

“Good girl,” San groans, reaching down to capture your lips in a kiss. “Go ahead and cum when you need to, don’t hold back,” he adds, picking up his pace ever so slightly, knowing you were growing close.

“I- oh, fuck,” you whine, your nails digging into his bicep as you orgasm.

He continues to thrust through yours, and San soon releases inside of you.

“You couldn’t wait for me to get here?” You hear Wooyoung cry indignantly.

“How long have you been there?” San asks, pulling out of you and cupping your cheek before rolling onto the bed next to you, giving you a view of a very irritated and flustered Wooyoung.

“Long enough to start getting hard,” Wooyoung complains. You glance down to his crotch, and there was a definite tent in his pants.

“Well, this wasn’t the original plan,” San begins, and you are quick to look at the floor, taking great interest in the carpet suddenly. “Y/N was feeling depressed and very insecure about her body, and it just happened to lead to this,” San explains, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“You did?” Wooyoung asks, his eyes snapping to you.

You don’t look up at him or say anything, but you nod a little.

Wooyoung doesn’t say anything, but you know he walks over in front of you. His fingers grip your chin and tilt your head up. “I asked you a question,” he says, his eyes hard.

“I… yes…” you say, sounding uncertain of yourself.

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow, waiting expectantly.

“I… don’t like myself?” you tell him, your words coming out as more of a question than a statement.

“Y/N,” Wooyoung says, trying his best not to sound disappointed. “You’re an amazing person. The best partner we could ask for. I don’t know what exactly is wrong, and I would love to talk about that later if you want. But I love you so fucking much, okay?” Wooyoung’s eyes were a little glossy, and you could tell how much he meant his words. He wanted you to feel better.

“I know… I love you both too…” You say, holding onto his arm before leaning up to give him a gentle kiss.

Wooyoung holds you close, deepening the kiss. “Is it okay if I have a turn?” he asks you, his hand resting on your hip.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you whisper, rubbing your noses together.

“I love you so much,” Wooyoung says, mostly to himself. He then asks, “Can I be rough?”

“Yes, I’ll say if it’s too much,” you assure him, Wooyoung and San both nodding.

Wooyoung is quick to undress and is soon guiding you onto all fours. He spreads open your legs and cheeks, watching San’s cum drip out of you. “You didn’t use a condom with San?” he leans forward and whispers into your ear.

San shrugs, knowing it didn’t matter since you were all clean and you were not likely to get pregnant.

Wooyoung pulls back and smacks your ass. “I love the sight,” he groans to himself, teasing your entrance as he smacks your other cheek. “I love how your body reacts to me,” Wooyoung says, grinning as you arch your back up, trying to get him inside of you.

“You had San, and you need more?” Wooyoung teases, slowly entering you.

“Yes, I need you too,” you gasp out, getting fistfuls of the sheets as you hold them to keep yourself up.

“Good,” Wooyoung grunts, beginning to harshly thrust into you.

“You’re making such a mess with your pretty cunt,” Wooyoung laughs a bit sadistically.

“Just for you, just for you both,” you manage to get out, angling your hips so he would hit your g spot.

“You’re such a good girl for us both, and you’re so fucking perfect,” Wooyoung groans.

San scoots up closer to your face, tilting up your chin to look at you. “You okay?” he whispers. “Color?” He knows Wooyoung could get a bit carried away at times, so he wanted to check.

“Green,” you choke out, your arms giving in on a particularly strong thrust.

Wooyoung slows his thrusts and grabs your hair, pulling you up and moving his hand to your throat. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. We are so lucky to have you,” he whispers, rolling his hips into yours.

You nod a little, your orgasm building again. Wooyoung hums softly and starts thrusting faster, grunting softly in your ear before he decides to suck colorful marks onto your neck and shoulder.

“That’s our girl,” he murmurs, reaching down to rub your clit as he squeezes your neck.

You gasp, your thoughts going blank from the slight lack of oxygen to your brain.

“Go on and cum on my cock, princess,” Wooyoung urges you, biting down on your shoulder as he squeezes your neck a little more, searching for his release.

At the slight increase in pressure, your body explodes, and you cum, your fluttering walls encouraging Wooyoung’s orgasm.

He lets up on your throat and clit, thrusting a few more times to ride out your highs. Wooyoung pulls out of you and helps you lay down, cupping your cheeks.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Wooyoung asks, cupping your cheeks.

You’re zoned out, blissed expression was a dead giveaway of your state, as you felt high and floaty.

“Damn, if I had known you were going to come and fuck her like that, I wouldn’t have made her squirt,” San says with a sigh, getting up.

“You did? Without me here to watch?” Wooyoung groans.

San shrugs, heading into the bathroom and drawing a bath.

You watched the two, not quite able to make out their conversation.

When Wooyoung picks you up, you gladly lean against his chest and gently hold him. He leads you into the bathroom and sets you in the tub, which San had filled with a bubble bath. Wooyoung kisses your forehead, and San squeezes your hand, saying something.

San stands up and sighs, looking at Wooyoung. “Don’t leave her alone like this. I’ll wash the sheets,” he tells him.”

Wooyoung lets you play with the bubbles and soon gently washes your hair. “You’re doing so good,” he says, rinsing out your shampoo. “Our pretty girl,” Wooyoung adds, smiling. “Turn a little to face me, and I will wash off your makeup~” he says, putting the cleanser oil on his hands.

“Okay!” you giggle, turning and closing your eyes.

Wooyoung is gentle as he massages the oil into your skin, singing to you softly. You hum along with the tune, letting him rinse off the oil and use your regular cleanser.

“Are you ready to cuddle?” San asks, coming back into the bathroom and now fully dressed.

“Cuddles~!” you say, nodding immediately.

Wooyoung giggles and unplugs the drain, readying a towel.

“I have your favorite pajamas ready for you,” San says, smiling.

You let out an excited squeak, reaching out to Wooyoung to help you up. He gently grabs your arms, helping you find your footing before beginning to dry you off.

“Will you finish her up?” Wooyoung softly asks San, wrapping you in the towel before picking you up.

“Yeah, go clean yourself up,” San says.

Wooyoung kisses your temple and goes to the bathroom, and San helps you into your pajamas.

“You pretty princess,” he says, pulling on your pink pajamas.

“Mhm, your princess!!” you confirm, nodding.

San smiles, plugging in your hairdryer.

“You are the prettiest princess I have ever seen,” he assures you, brushing your hair before adding essence to it.

“Then you’re my… prince?” you ask, glancing up at San as he picks up the hairdryer.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be,” San assures you, turning on the hairdryer and drying your hair.

Before San finishes drying your hair, Wooyoung returns and lays on the bed next to you, rubbing your back.

Once finished, San unplugs the hairdryer and turns off the light. Wooyoung pulls you under the covers, holding you in his arms. San joins you, kissing your cheek.

“I love you,” Wooyoung murmurs.

“We love you,” San corrects him, smiling.

540 notes · View notes

qianinterprises · 3 years

Text

WayV Reaction: finding out their S/O has Borderline Personality Disorder

Pairing(s): WayV x Reader Genre: angst, fluff Warnings: mention of mental health, depression, anxiety, symptom's included in BPD. Trigger Warnings: depression, anxiety, hostility, mention's of self-harm, self-doubt, low self-image Word Count: 3.9k

Author's Notes: I'll be honest and say that I had to research Borderline Personality Disorder. I knew what it was/had heard of it before, but in order to write something accurate, I tried to educate myself. If you believe that you have BPD, please don't be afraid to go to a doctor or a trusted friend/family member. Your mental health is important.

Author's Note 2.0: I also want to mention that (as per earlier request), I am also working on a YangYang fic that features a reader with Borderline Personality Disorder. I'm not entirely sure when it will be posted (soon hopefully), but it is in my WIP's.

Author's Note 2.0: Kun's is a little different, I apologize for the difference and the shortness. Tagging:@treasuretaeil

Kun:

Kun was in the middle of dance practice when his phone began to ring. At first, he let it go to voicemail, but by the third ring, Ten paused the music and Kun grabbed his phone out of his coat pocket, expecting to see your name popping up on the screen. You were at home today after a particularly rough week at work that had left you feeling spent. Kun longed to be home with you, holding you tight in his embrace. As his eyes met your next door neighbor's name on his phone screen, his stomach dropped. Mrs. Huang only called when it was really serious. "Hello?" he asked into the receiver. "Oh thank goodness!" she cried, voice laced with anxiety enducing agitation. "What's wrong?" "It's (y/n)! They've brought me five big tins of muffins! I can't possibly eat all of these! And they've gone to the store twice with ingredients! I think something's wrong! Kun sighed. This morning, you had been so happy. You were practically singing to the birds. He knew it wouldn't last though, especially with the week you'd had. "I'll be there soon!" Kun left practice without another word and when he got home, he found you in the kitchen, covered in flour, vigorously mixing a creamy liquid in one of your metal mixing bowls. The kitchen was covered in ingredients; flour puffed on the counters and floor, broken egg shells on the table, a half empty measuring cup of milk teetering on top of the fridge. It was bad this time. Kun knew you had borderline personality disorder. It had been something you'd told him in the beginnings of your relationship. He had seen you at your worst, and at your best, but it still broke his heart every time he witnessed you at a breaking point. "(y/n)?" You paused in your vigorous mixing, eyes glancing up to meet his. He didn't say anything, eyes locked on yours, but his eyes held no pity. Instead, they held pure, unfiltered love that had you putting the whisk aside. "Do you love me?" you whispered. A small wisp of a smile reflected across his face as he crossed the room, arms wrapping around your body. "More than anything," he whispered.

Ten:

You and Ten had only been together for a short amount of time; three months to be exact. It was an exhilarating three months. Time you wouldn't give for anything in the world, even though you didn't get to see each other often with Ten's very busy schedule. However, after the "Kick Back" album released, WayV was allowed to take a break as SM turned their attention to the scheduled release of NCT Dream's first album. Normally, Ten would then be whisked away for some SuperM promotion, but with Baekhyun's enlistment, SuperM was also allowed to take a break as the company decided what to do. Which ultimately meant you got to spend more time with your boyfriend, which, most would deem as a good thing and, you were happy he was there, however, it became a lot harder to hide your little secret from him. Your best friend, Kun, had introduced you to Ten (and the rest of the members), when Kun officially became a member of NCT. Kun and Ten had immediately hit it off as friends, which meant you also spent a lot of time with Ten, thus leading to a blossoming friendship and later attraction. So Ten lying in your bed snoring softly wasn't that far of a stretch from a common day encounter. The difference was, today, you didn't feel like yourself. Being in a friendship with Ten meant that, yes, you saw him often, but not often enough that you couldn't keep parts of yourself private. Which is exactly what you did, especially as your tiny crush on Ten grew into something mutual, eventually leading to a relationship. The truth you were so afraid of revealing was your disorder. Borderline Personality Disorder. A disorder you'd been diagnosed with since you were a your teenager. You'd been teased and bullied for it when a classmate you'd once called a friend announced your disorder to the entire school. This, in turn, had terrified you of ever telling anyone, which you had gotten away with. Ten didn't know and, if you had it your way, he'd never know. He was an idol. What did he need with a girlfriend with this disorder. However, with him hanging around a lot... "Hey? What's wrong?" Ten's voice snapped you from your thoughts. You'd been so distracted you hadn't realized his soft snoring had ceased. "Nothing," you said softly. His lips pursed, perplexed as he softly reached a hand up to brush across your cheek, something he'd done several times. But today, you didn't want it. You shied away from his hand, curling yourself up on the opposite side of the bed, cursing yourself for acting different than usual, but you couldn't help it. Ten didn't bat an eye. He simply gave you a soft smile and sat up in the large bed, but he didn't try to touch you again. "Feeling sad today?" he asked. You nodded meekly. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked. You paused for a moment to think it over. You truly didn't. You wished you could keep it a secret forever, because Ten might leave you. But you also knew that the stress was taking it's toll on you. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder..." you whispered. He didn't say anything at first and you were preparing yourself for him to call you a freak and leave. Instead, he stretched his arm out and softly wrapped his pinky around yours. "I don't know much about it. But I promise I will learn," he whispered. Tears brimmed your eyes because finally, someone wasn't going to leave you.

WinWin:

You had never been much of a touchy person. Holding hands was one thing, and even then, something you weren't wholly comfortable with, but hugging was completely different. You didn't care much for hugs, especially from complete strangers that often found you rude for rejecting their hug. You barely even hugged your own family, let alone a total stranger. This was possibly what spurred on your relationship with Sicheng who, also didn't care much for physical affection, despite the fact the other members of NCT practically drowned him in it. Your relationship was just... different. At least in the minds of society because you didn't cuddle against Sicheng's chest constantly or plop down on his lap just because he was sitting down. Instead, you preferred wrapping your pinky around his or draping one of his sweaters over your shoulders. This worked for the two of you though others found it strange. However, there was an anomaly that Sicheng, though you had been together for a little over two years, had no idea about. This anomaly included the fact that sometimes, you liked hugs. Sometimes, all you wanted to do was drape yourself over your boyfriends lap and let him hold you until your mind screamed at you for the overload of affection. Sometimes you wanted him to wrap his arms around you in bed and fall asleep with you on his chest. That's what happens when you have Borderline Personality Disorder, and it wouldn't have been that big of a deal if Sicheng had known, but he didn't. It started out you longing to keep it a secret in the early days of your relationship. It wasn't something you advertised very often. However, as your relationship progressed, you knew you should have told him, but as five months turned into six, it became a crushing weight of guilt for not telling him in the beginning. Sicheng had already invested a lot of time and love in the relationship when you had not been wholly honest with him. And the more time that passed, the harder it was for you to get the words out. At this point, it wasn't even your fear of rejection because of the disorder, it was a nagging fear that your dishonesty about the disorder would drive him away from you. That would truly be a crushing point. However, as Sicheng began spending more nights at your apartment, it was getting increasingly harder to hide, especially as your mood dropped or when you suddenly began to crave affection. Times like today. The moment you'd rolled out of bed, you knew you needed some type of affection, but as Sicheng made no advance to give it to you throughout the day, your mood dropped. It really wasn't his fault. He had no idea how you were feeling, but as you finally had had enough and wrapped your arms around him from behind while he was washing the dishes after dinner, you felt him stiffen before grabbing a towel to dry his hands. "What's up with you today?" The question was an honest one, but it still felt as though you were making him uncomfortable by touching him. As your arms slacked from around him, a tear sprang to your eye but you were quick to wipe it away as he turned to face you. "I need to tell you something..." Your voice was wavering. You had no idea how he would respond. He nodded for you to continue, one of his hands gently taking hold of yours, playing with your fingers as a soft sense of relief washed through you. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder." His once blank face morphed into one of confusion. "What's that?" he asked tentatively. You sighed. You had been expecting the question but that didn't make it any easier to define. "Its like having mood swings. One day I feel happy the other sad... Sometimes anti-hugs, sometimes super affectionate." You could tell he was still confused, but as he nodded and wrapped his arms around your body, drawing you against his tall frame, you let out a shuddered breath, body relaxing against him.

Lucas:

Books were never Yukhei's strong suit. He preferred numbers and basic information plotted out clearly in front of him. Books were too all over the place with too much information. He wished they could be like websites that gave him the briefest of explanations with a "read more" feature. Yet here he was, flipping through slightly crinkled pages because he wanted to truly understand, and books were always credited with having the most information. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder," you had explained earlier that day when you had ducked out of the way of one of his mega bear hugs and proceeded to slump your shoulders and beg him to give you time alone. You'd locked yourself in your shared bedroom after that and, although you had texted him to apologize for your behavior, you added that today was just an off day, your disorder really affecting your mood. "Well how can I help?" he had asked. It was your response that prompted him here, pouring over books in the local library hoping to find anything that would help him understand Borderline Personality Disorder in the best way possible. As he flipped through pages and learned, he had begun to feel several different emotions. On one end, he felt sorry that you'd had to go through the disorder alone, but on the other, he questioned why you'd never told him, even after a year of being together. However, a big part of him wondered if maybe you had been telling him, just without words, especially because you'd never tried to hide any of your mood swings. He'd just always assumed you were on your period. As the hours ticked away, Yukhei's eyes remained glued to the startlingly dry books stacked up around him, but as he learned more about the disorder and, by default, more about you, he couldn't seem to stop. At least not until his phone vibrated in his pocket and, as he fished it out, your smiling face met his eyes. He answered the facetime request and gave you a tired smile that quickly morphed into concern when he noticed your bloodshot eyes. "Baby? What's wrong? Did something happen?" "My boyfriend left me! That's what happened!" Were you... pouting? "I didn't leave baby, I'm at the library." Confusion flashed across your face. "Why?" "To learn more about Borderline Personality Disorder." A giggle erupted from your lips and Yukhei sure was glad to hear it, especially after reading texts about BPD leading to depression. "Why didn't you just google it?" His mouth gaped open as he dramatically clutched his chest. "Googling something so important in my significant other's life?! That's scandalous! I should do enough research to write my own 20-page essay!" This time, it was a full blown laugh. "You're a dork!" "I'm your dork!" "Well come home, dork! There's a lot we have to discuss!" Your smiling face alleviated any fears that may have been swirling around Yukhei's chest. With a nod, he slammed a book shut so hard it send a loud, slamming bang throughout the library, prompting nasty looks sent his way. Sheepishly, he waved them off and stood up. "I'll be home soon," he promised, blowing you a kiss before hanging up. Yukhei had taken the hastily thrown news a lot better than you'd expected. You knew he couldn't have learned everything, specifically because it varied person to person, but you knew that he would be there for you, even on your bad days. And that was all you could ask for.

Xiaojun:

Dejun was incredibly perceptive, even if he was incredibly dumb sometimes. He could tell when you weren't quite feeling yourself, even though he often didn't know what was causing it. It was at those times that he did everything he could to put a smile back on your face and make you feel "normal" again. He didn't understand how counter productive that actually was. It was really your fault. You were the one keeping secrets, but as the smile fell from your face the second Dejun traded the couch for the shower, you couldn't help but think that maybe he simply preferred you to be happy rather than deal with you when you weren't. Somewhere in the back of your head, you knew he was just doing what he thought would help, but now, especially in your state of mind, you couldn't shake the aching feeling in your head. "Hey, are there towels- are you crying?" Dejun's voice yanked you out of your thoughts and you brought your hands to your cheeks, rapidly trying to wipe away the clear droplets painting your face, but it was too late. Dejun had already seen. He was shirtless when he perched on the couch beside you, face etched in concern. He opened his mouth, likely to retort off some lame dad joke or tell you some funny story you'd heard a thousand times. "Can you not?" You hadn't meant to snap. The words had simply flown out before you'd had the chance to them. His face fell into a pout that you knew you often fell for, but today, it only upset you more. "Stop Dejun!" The pout fell away. "Stop what? I'm not doing anything!" "You're trying to make me smile!" He blinked, staring at you for a moment. "That's a bad thing?!" You sighed, slumping against the couch cushions, resigning yourself to the fact that he didn't understand. Then again, you didn't let him understand. "Just tell me why I'm upsetting you," he begged, all traces of bad humor gone, replaced with sincerity. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder! My mood fluctuates! And when you try to make me smile when I'm sad or mad makes me feel like you don't like me when I'm not always happy. But I can't always be happy." He stared at you in shock for a moment, mouth opening and closing as if he didn't know how to respond. An appropriate response, you supposed. You'd been friends for a while now and dating for several months, yet this was the first time you'd told him. You were about to get up from the couch, sighing as he didn't respond after several minutes, when he placed a hand on your thigh to stop you. "Why didn't you tell me?" You shrugged. It wasn't that simple. "Can you tell me the best ways to comfort you?" Again, you shrugged. A sigh released from his mouth and your head hung low. "I'm going to do some research. As your boyfriend, I want to make sure I'm making you feel better, not worse. So, while I'm doing that, I also need you to tell me if something I'm doing is making you feel worse. Can you do that for me?" His words were sincere, his intentions true. Another tear fell from your eye, dropping against your cheek, but a smile broke out across your face. "Thank you for caring," you whispered. He pulled you onto his lap and pressed a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. "Always."

Hendery:

Waking up this morning had been such a struggle, even as the delightful scent of your boyfriends cooking wafted under the cracks of the door, greeting you. Usually, this would rouse you from your slumber, prompting you to creep into the kitchen and sneak a taste of the delightful breakfast. Today, however, you rolled over in the blankets and pulled the duvet over your head. Today was a lay in bed day, you just hoped your boyfriend would accept that. "Come on sleepy head! It's time to wake up!" Kunhang's annoyingly chipper voice spouted, pulling you from the confines of sleep in a less pleasant way. "No," you groaned, rolling over, burying your face deeper into the pillow. "Come on! Breakfast is ready!" He pulled the blankets off your body and you let out a loud hiss, eyes turning to bore into him. "I said no!" He dropped the blanket and backed off, lifting his hands in surrender, but you could tell he had questions. You never acted like this. "What's wrong?" You grunted, not responding, turning away from him, but he wasn't having it. "Yah! I asked you a question!" he pouted at being ignored. A growl whipped it's way from your throat. "Go look up BPD," you snapped. You could tell that he had more questions, but, after a long moment, he seemed to think better of asking them and, instead, made his way out of the room, leaving you to fall back asleep. It had to have been a few hours later when you were waking up on your own this time, the anger you had felt earlier completely gone now, replaced with your normal, chipper self. You turned over to look at Kunhang's side, releasing he wasn't there and the memories came flooding back to you along with a strong wave of guilt. You shouldn't have treated Kunhang the way you did. There was nothing out of the ordinary with the way he'd reacted to your sleeping for. With a sigh, you threw your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, padding over the floors to the door. You made your way out of the bedroom and down the hall, finding Kunhang sitting on the couch, television with the volume turned down, playing some movie he didn't look too interested in. As the floor creaked slightly under your feet, his attention shifted from the television to you and he was quick to shut off the device. "How are you feeling?" he asked. Your heart dropped into your stomach. Had you really affected him? "I'm sorry for how I reacted..." you mumbled. A sigh rolled past his lips as he patted the couch next to him. You made your way to him, flopping beside him, but keeping your distance, at least until he pulled you against his side. "I understand why you did after looking up Borderinel Personality Disorder," he said. "But you couldn't have expected me to know without knowing." With a nod, you hung your head. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I thought you wouldn't like me if you knew I had a disorder..." you mumbled. Saying it out loud, it felt ridiculous. You knew he loved you. The fact that he waited for you to wake up even after how you'd treated him proved that. But it had been a fear nevertheless. "Now that I know, I can help you rather than making things worse. But in the future, please let me know. I hated watching you so upset without knowing how to help." You leaned against him, burying your face in his chest as you nodded.

YangYang:

(full fic coming soon) YangYang's youth was what truly scared you the most. He still had so much to learn. He was so naive, about some things at least. He could make you feel so good, so loved, when he'd hold you in his arms and kiss your head or when he threw himself across your lap and begged to be pet. You were scared that the second he knew the truth about you, he'd leave, or worse, treat you differently. Your older brother, Kun, had advised you to just be honest with him. To let him know when you had bad days. Yet, here you were, hiding out in your brothers bed, hoping practice would run late so YangYang wouldn't see your crestfallen face. It seemed luck wasn't on your side that day, not entirely anyway, because the door to the room opened and Kun walked in half shirtless, belt unbuckled. "Please don't strip anymore," you'd begged. The boy nearly jumped out of his skin at your words. "(y/n)?! What are you doing here?!" "I missed Yang..." "So why didn't you come to practice? You know you're welcome." Your silence was his answer and he sighed, sliding on another, not sweat-soaked shirt, and sat on the bed beside you, reaching out to gently stroke your arm. "You really should tell him," he whispered. "But what if he rejects me?" "He won't. Sis, I know him. He's not like some dirtbags you've dated in the past. And he might just be able to help you better than I can," he whispered. You knew he was right. He was always right (as annoying as it was). "Will you send him here? I don't want to get out of bed..." "Of course," he said, patting your arm one more time before getting out of bed and making his way out of the room. It was a few minutes later when a sweaty YangYang walked in, searching for your figure before sitting down beside you on Kun's bed. "You wanted to see me?" he asked. "I have Borderline Personality Disorder..." The words just rushed out before you could stop them, but you were thankful. This saved you from yourself. For a long moment, YangYang didn't say anything and you were beginning to think Kun had been wrong for once. "So that's why Kun had me do all that research..." Ok, that definitely wasn't what you were expecting. "Not long after we started dating, Kun made me do all this research on BPD. He even quizzed me once a week! I just assumed it was punishment for dating his sister!" A loud laugh fell past your lips. That was absolutely something Kun would do!

"Are you mad I didn't tell you?" you asked.

"Well, why didn't you?"

"I was afraid you'd leave me like my exes..."

"Then yes, I'm mad!" he said.

Your face dropped.

"I'm sorry..."

"I'll just have to teach you a lesson!"

With that, he threw himself on top of you, pressing his sweaty clothes against you as you shrieked, attempting to get away.

"Guys... not on my bed..."

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