#supposed to tell the Bad Pain apart from the Always Pain when the descriptions of Bad Pain are very very similar

[marshmallowprotection]

Wildflowers

Pairing: V | Kim Jihyun/Rika Kim

Description: Desperate to break free from her family, Rika runs from her arranged marriage in the hopes that she can look at that blue sky without fearing she'll lose her innocence forever. However, the unrelenting desert heat leaves her indebted to a stranger who offers her the chance of a lifetime. Will she take it knowing it might be a trap, or will she give up before she dares to try?    Prequel to Cereus.

[Read On AO3]

Cowboy Universe in order: [Wildflowers] [Cereus] [Andromeda] [Wren]

Chapter 1

Why had God forsaken her?

That was the thought echoing in the back of her head the longer she felt heat on her skin. The desert sun was cruel and unforgiving. Why? What had she done that was so bad to receive this treatment? Where had she gone wrong in her life?

She was a young woman who seemingly had no reason to be where she was at that moment, and yet, there she was. She was alone with nothing to call hers but the mere clothes on her back.

In the most wicked heat of the desert, Rika felt it.

It was fleeting, but at that moment, it almost felt like there was a drop of water on her tongue. That certainly couldn't be the case. She knew that it had to have been at least two days since the last time she felt water in the back of her throat. Supposedly, a human could go at least a day or two more without water, but not where she was.

In a land covered in dirt and dust, it wouldn't take long before the vultures would swoop in.

Long had she known that the more time she spent in this place, the more likely it would be that she would meet her end. It didn't matter how many times she prayed to God for this misery to end. It was an endless sea of agony and she was but one victim in a sea of many others and the god she prayed to could only help so many.

That was the only thing she could tell herself as a comfort. If she allowed herself to believe for even a second it was any different than that, she would fall into disrepair. Even a single drop of a different thought would be too much. She didn't dream of doing that. There was a fleeting hope. The smallest hope inside of her chest that hadn't been broken apart by the people who claim to be saving her. She was holding on like a lifeline but it felt hard to hold on to it.

How could she believe when she had been abandoned? It wasn't the first time they kicked her out of the house and it likely wouldn't be the last time. This time, it happened because she had managed to say “no.” She didn't want to leave the house immediately after dinner to speak with the preacher. The thought of doing so made her skin crawl. She was a good girl. She always did what she was told.

Even if that meant she became uncomfortable with the things she had to do to please her parents. There were rules that children had to follow. That was what her faith taught her and it was what society expected of her. It was what she’d been taught since the day they’d taken her from that orphanage. She was supposed to follow every single rule they placed in front of her without question. It didn't matter what the rule was. It was her duty as their child to follow through.

Honor thy parents, that was the rule.

She was to be the child who made up for one they could not bear on their own. But, she knew she would never be good enough as the child they imagined for themselves. It was one thing her mother had always made abundantly clear. They only adopted her because another child convinced them to do so. They had spared her a sense of momentary pity in that regard, but they made sure that Rika understood what they meant. They thought their pity would reward them, but it had not given them what they expected.

Why else would her mother and father look upon her with contempt? Either she was a filthy sinner that could do no good, or she would never be good enough as the imaginary child that they had created in their minds. It was a painful truth she had to face every time she wound up on the streets. She was coming into her adult years but she felt no different than she had as a child. Her body may have blossomed and her mind may have grown, but in their eyes, she was still nothing more than a child. A child that could never be what they intended.

A simple two-letter word was too much for them.

She couldn't take it. The revolting feeling of somebody's disgusting eyes watching her body when she wanted nothing to do with it was too much. She couldn't bring herself to fear eternal damnation when all she could feel was anguish. As much as she wanted to have faith in the god that had brought her peace in some of her worst moments when it felt as though God had employed those who were slowly but surely ripping away at her innocence, it was hard to find peace in faith.

Rika didn’t want to do what her parents wanted anymore. She didn’t want to listen to their screams and orders when all it would do would lead to an arranged marriage to a man in the church who was no voice of God. The thought of being left in that position after years of being stuck under his thumb alongside her parents made her want to run and run and run until her body caved.

The longer she continued to listen to her parents, the closer she knew she would become to a contract that there would be no getting out of.

If those deplorable hands were to get what they wanted, she would be stuck as a wife to someone she never loved. It didn't matter how many times people would say she would come to love a husband such as that righteous man. She could not feel love in her heart for someone who had made her feel terror and agony since her thirteenth year.

Even if it made her fit for hell, she knew that she could not take it any longer. No more could she be the girl they wanted her to be. She could not do it. She simply couldn't.

She had tried time again to make sense of her existence by doing what was expected of her but nothing made sense anymore. As far as their words had made her believe from the moment she learned how to understand language, something was supposed to click when she became of age. But, if anything, now that she was of marrying age, the less she understood about the world and its expectations for a young woman of her standing. It didn't make any sense.

It was never going to make sense.

That was the realization that was chipping away at her and why she had decided to run away in the dead of night after they screamed at her for saying no.

Either they kicked her out or she made the run for freedom. Those were the only choices that were afforded to her and they were all terrifying. They might as well have kicked her out, but she knew that it didn't matter if they did it, they would send someone after her to drag her back screaming if only to know that they would have money for a dowry. It was all she was good for. Her existence was enough to make their money. Her life was worth a bundle of coins and maybe a few cows. Nothing more and nothing less.

That was the truth.

The cold hard truth.

It was the painful and ugly truth she did not want to admit to herself no matter what. She had nothing and she was nothing. Even if she understood those things deep down inside, it didn't take away from the confusion. It didn't take away from the simple fact she didn't understand why she was born to live through this. She wanted to understand and she had tried to understand so many times. From every crook and angle she could look at, she had tried her damnedest.

But, all it left her was confusion that continued to pool inside her broken heart.

She understood everything and knew nothing at the same time. If anything, she was more confused than she’d ever been in her entire life. Why couldn't she understand what they wanted from her the way they needed it? Why did it make her feel sick instead? Why did her skin crawl like spiders down her spine while she dug her hands into her skirt and bit her tongue? Why, oh why, did it feel that way?

Why? Why? Why? The single word reverberated in her mind over and over again. Why? Why? Why? Why? Was there nothing for her to do but live in this cycle? Why? Why? Why? Why? Was there nobody in this world that cared about her? Was there no hope for her in this world to live the way she wanted? Was there no way to figure out what she wanted in the first place? It didn't matter how many times the thoughts reverberated throughout her head, she was lost in the same cycle over and over and over again.

Rika was left with the same conclusion. The wind whipped around her and stirred up the sand. Even though she was used to the feeling of sand biting at her heels, it still hurt. The pain was like an itch. You wouldn't think much of an itch if it was a tingle that needed to be scratched for a second. but, it would bother you if no matter how much you clawed at the spot, the itch would not go away. In her mind, that was real torture. A slow and unyielding feeling of agony was far worse than a gunshot.

It was far more torturous to experience a slow death instead of a quick death. If she could have had her say, she would have chosen the latter. But, her adoptive parents had chosen for her and she wasn't sure what options were left for her apart from feeling the burn in the back of her throat that never seemed to go away. There was nowhere left to go and no feeling of satisfaction. It seemed as though she would continue to wander the desert. She was turned around in the dead of night amid her tears as she ran from their cabin. It was hard to say where she was anymore.

Out in the west, if you didn't follow the path exactly the way it was meant to be, you would stumble further and further away from civilization until it was only you and the buzzards waiting to feast upon your body. It felt like it would be her fate. It was a tortuous fate but was it any better than what she would face if she turned around? Every option presented to her was more uncomfortable than the last.

If she could even find her way back around, for that matter.

She didn't want to turn around.

At the same time, she knew if she didn't succumb to the elements around her, someone would drag her back kicking and screaming by horseback. Her pretty face was worth a hefty penny. It was the same answer as the last time she tried to make a run for it. The only difference was that this time she was old enough to realize the severity of what it would do to her before all was said and done.

Her body was tired and she wanted to lie down. If she stopped, someone might’ve found her; But, if she kept walking, she might’ve passed out from heat exhaustion in the middle of an unmarked trail.

The heat blurred her vision and the horizon… where was she supposed to go? It wasn't like she had a plan. The only thing she could think to do at the time was to run and that was it. She didn't have a plan. It wasn't like there was much of a plan for her future in the first place as far as she could decide.

Her legs were wobbling as she stumbled, walking on through the valley without shadows as a weary soul, and all she could think about was how she yearned for something to take the dryness. She didn't hate the heat. She loved the feeling of sunshine kissing her skin. But, this feeling, this feeling of dry heat that was boiling her from the inside out was not what she wanted. A single drop of rain would’ve been enough to make her grateful to God. She would have repented for everything she had committed if there was only a drop of water.

Rika knew better than to pray for shade.

But, a single droplet?

It might have been asking for too much, but she was praying for anything. She wouldn't lose her faith in God yet, not just yet, but the dwindling feeling of energy and her body was pulling her down. The weight of the world was on her shoulders just as it was on Atlas and she wanted to weep. There were no tears left for her to cry and all she could do was march on like the beat of the drum. If only she knew the direction of the town. If only she knew the way to someone who might have pitied her. She had no one and she was no one.

She continued to walk until her body couldn’t. She wasn't sure when her body felt like it couldn’t walk, all she knew was that one moment she was walking and the next she was laying on her back, staring up at the endless blue sky without a cloud in sight.

If she had enough left in her brain to manage a thought, she might have let herself pretend that sky up above was an endless sea of water that she could reach her hand out towards and dive into.

What was the sea like? It was something she had only heard about through stories in her childhood at the orphanage. It felt so far away from the world she lived in. Did it feel like heaven? Would Heaven feel like diving into a pool of water? Would it feel satisfying like a cold desert night? Would it be everything that her Earthly suffering was not? She took in a deep breath and it felt as if she was accepting that this might be where it ends. Hot, sticky, and barren.

It wouldn't be so bad, would it? She might not know what it felt like to be free but if she could hold out on her faith in God for just a second longer, she might be saved. She might have been saved. She didn't want to go back. She didn't think she could go forward. There was only one option left.

Just a few more minutes…

Rika felt darkness cloud her vision. At first, she thought it was because she had closed her eyes once and for all. But, in that darkness, she realized that a voice was speaking to her. It was a voice she couldn't recognize. It was a male voice and his words did not make sense. His voice was garbled and the sound of heat buzzing blurred out anything she could have heard. She pondered if it was an angel welcoming her to heaven and reminding her that it was okay to let go. But, water in its purest form began to splash against her face.

And just like that, it felt like she was alive again.

As much as she wanted to desperately reach out for the water that she had long been denied, she knew better than to choke down a canteen after days without reprieve.

It would make her feel sicker than she already was. Even though her vision was cloudy, the owner of the voice that’d spoken to her was holding her tightly. So tightly that she wasn't afraid she would fall again. Whoever held the bottle of water to her lips so that she could come back to earth. She wasn't thinking about that or what his intentions might have been. All she could think about was how grateful she was for water. It was something that many people took for granted but she didn't. She knew what it was.

It was the essence of life.

“Drink slowly,” His gentle voice reminded her to take care of her choices. “If ya’ do too much too soon, ya’ll be just as worse off as ya’ were a second ago, miss.”

If her throat wasn't so dry, she would have thanked him. It was a common courtesy to be grateful to those who looked after you. If this stranger was a man that wanted to take her back to where she came from, he would have already said his peace. If his intentions were worse, she knew something would’ve already gone wrong the minute she didn't wake up again. She knew better than to have blind faith in strangers like this in dire straits, but for once, she felt a calling in her heart to listen.

Rika wasn’t sure why, but she decided that she would listen. It was the first time she felt that way about another person. She couldn't see his face because of her exhaustion but something about his presence felt right. Something felt right and for the first time in her life, she wanted to believe in that feeling. It felt like 180° from where she had been just a few moments before. But by God, there might have been a prayer answered.

It wasn't a drop of water.

Her voice felt raspy and broken. She wanted to thank the man but all she could think about was how much trouble she was causing someone else. “Forgive me, sir. Forgive me. It ain’t my goal to trouble ya’. If y’all ain’t got no more water for yerself’, don’t waste it on me. The river ain’t in this direction… Least, I reckon it ain’t this way… go on, I ain’t good for nothing. ‘M as good as dead. Buzzards have more keep for me. Don’t waste yer’ water on a good fer’ nothin’.”

“Miss, I ain’t gon’ leave a lady out here for the buzzards. My mama, rest her soul, she never would’ve been proud if I saw somebody and let ‘em waste away like that,” a weight left her shoulders as his jacket came to block out the harshness of the sun. She blinked, trying her best to see again as he spoke. “The world would suffer a mighty loss without someone like ya’ in it.”

A loss?

Who would care about her? The only people that had ever cared about her were the ones that wanted to use her. The only people that knew her were her parents, the preacher, and the few people in her tiny ramshackle house of worship who spared her a pity look on the harshest Sunday devoted to God. Pity was the most she could ever pray for. Not for a place that mourned her loss.

The sunlight cleared her vision and she looked at her savior in awe, as his blue eyes as bright as the sky and blue hair as deep as the water she prayed for stared back at her. Whatever feeling she had in her heart of doubt was taken when she saw this man looking at her. Her prayers had been answered and she had been saved by that blue color that she had dreamed of.

It wasn't a sea of water, but she could feel herself slipping away into those eyes as if they were the sea itself. Despite how weak she felt, she began to laugh before her world went dark once more.

[Chapter One (YOU ARE HERE.) | Chapter Two]

#wildflowers #cereus #andromeda #wren #mystic messenger #rika kim #kim rika #prequel #cowboy v #performer rika #jihyun kim #kim jihyun #mm #mysme #mysticmessenger #v mm #v mysme #v mystic messenger #mystic messenger v #mysme v #mm v #rika mm #rika mysme #rika mystic messenger #mystic messenger rika #mm rika #mysme rika #mod kait

[vinyls-and-valentines]

Description: Some birds leave the nest all on their own, while others need a little push. Or: A blurb detailing the turning point where DJ Hot Chimp started becoming DJ Hot Chimp, although Battery City didn't yet exist as we know it. Warning(s) for: Second person POV, Slight unreality Tagging: @newsagogos, @kfcmurderboyz and @autumn-cryptid because why not Additional Notes: No thoughts, head 4 AM. I wrote this in exactly 1 sitting wordcount: 853| ao3 link

You can pinpoint exactly the moment your heart stops beating. When your mother looks you straight in the eye, head slightly tilted back in a way that makes you wonder when has the world become so small, and she tells you in simple terms that you are not welcome anymore.

It makes you smile, the static spreading through your bones; it tugs at the corners of your mouth and pushes words bubbling up your throat like laughter. You tell her it's a funny joke and promise half-earnest to look over the fliers scattered on your desk instead of using them as pilots for your friends' zine and other obscenities, yet she continues to stand there, arms crossed, like Peter at the gates, and the numbness setting in your limbs lets the haphazard smile on your face melt into a doe-eyed frown.

Now it's your mother's turn to speak, every word uttered slowly as if it took great effort for her lead laden tongue to form the right sounds, but to you it feels like standing in a hail of bullets either way. She says that she is sorry, that she never meant for it to get to this, that she had hoped you would realize the world is unkind once you were old enough to run off on your own, but...you never did, did you? She says that it has made you reckless, your boundless optimism, and it pains her to know that this is her fault— that she couldn't set her foot down when she needed to, even for your sake. She wants to change for the better, for you, even if it feels like tearing herself apart limb for limb.

Any reproach or prospect of repentance dies on your tongue, and you absently find yourself unclasping the thin silver necklace around your neck, letting the key it held clatter to the pavement with the weight of thing unsaid. There's an apology written in your mother's eyes, but it's hard to see among the lines etched into her face by good times and bad times alike that you desperately try to commit to memory like the roadmap to you hometown. You turn around and leave, in the end, but not before the maw greedily yawning the distance between you sucks up the atmosphere and leaves the burning cries of you lungs to choke out any fear or remorse your heart still held.

Streets blur past as you will your legs to move to the mechanical one-two that was supposed to echo through your chest from somewhere behind your rib cage, but eventually they betray you too, coming to a sudden halt in front of a plexiglass door in the side of an apartment building with a cracking facade. There is little to no use in trying to fight rogue body parts, so defeated you punch in a familiar code on the keypad mounted by the entrance and wait for the old interphone to grant you access with the same abrasive tone as always.

To say your friends are surprised by the late visit would downplay the concert written all over their features as they usher you through the door, and all but carry you over to the creaky old couch in the living room, instructing you to stay put as they go off to different parts of the tightly apartment apartment for a mug of hot cocoa mix, a blanket and some pillows no doubt stolen off someone's bed. It's hard to put the day's events into words, but even through the confusion making your head swim you can't help but truly and wholly hate one of your friend for a moment when they even bring up the possibility of your mother doing something with the intention to harm you.

Come morning, neither of your friends any wiser as to why you have to leave home nor are you any better rested than you used to be at 13, when you spent hours on end mourning a you that didn't even exist. When you come to collect your things your mother doesn't stop you at the door, instead staring blankly at the mug of coffee cradled in her hands for seemingly the whole duration of your brief stay as if it were a crystal ball that held the secrets of time. Packing up your stuff with the help of five people is faster than packing should reasonably be, but it also is much more treacherous judging by the haphazard mess of books and clothing stuffed in the two bags and singular backpack you brought along, so you figure it all adds up in the end, nonethewiser to the rhinestones and guitar pick your brothers hid in the fold of one of your shirts.

As you turn to look back at your childhood home for what would turn out to be the last time, you can't help but notice your neighbors standing out on their porches, talking amongst themselves as if you can't see them. The world is unkind, and you know this well, you just hoped there was room for change.

#something about conviction vs tradition but not quite #boo's writing #dj hot chimp #danger days #sure why not

[percontaion-points]

Lifeblood chapter 6 & bonus chapter 3

Today's review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 6

I spend the next day at home, trying to forget yesterday’s walk of shame. After Elizabeth’s announcement, I left the party and, after taking a few wrong Gates, managed to find my way back to the cathedral. No one came after me. 

[...]

So far, all I’ve done is anger and upset the people I’m supposed to protect.

They haven’t done anything worth actually protecting. The only thing that they’re doing is causing further pain. 

If you forget all else, remember this: love is always the answer. Love your realm. Love your people. Love yourself. This is right. This is good. Only when you choose love are you living in Light. 

Even if you ignore Elizabeth, these people choose Ten because she serves a purpose to them. They couldn’t care less about her. 

“Meet your teammates. The ones you’ll be working with directly. Everyone has a different specialty, and I believe you’ll complement each other well, despite the lack of experience. Like Archer, Victor spent time with Killian before he defected. And considering Killian helped you rescue Kayla and Reed from Many Ends, they’re the least likely to attack him and the most likely to aid you. Clay and Meredith love you and will guard you with their lives.” 

He calls them “teammates”. I call them “all of the named characters”. 

I step into my Shell...and this time, I stay put.

Chapter 6 summary: Ten goes home in a huff. Alone. Where she has another nightmare, and no Killian to save her. When she wakes up, she mopes around some. 

Finally, because we need to have an actual plot, three men break into her apartment and drag her away. Elizabeth is the only one who seems pleased with this development, and Ten hates her for it. 

But the men turn out to be Deacon, Victor, and Clay, who take her to Levi and a couple of other named characters. He tells her that there’s an urgent mission that requires her specific powers. See, Meredith told Ten about this Myridian disease that’s been spreading (I forgot to mention it because this book has no sense of importance to literally anything). Levi goes on to say that Secondking has hidden Mariee away after some threats made by Myridian against her, so Ten is the only one around. As untrained as she is. They’re going to give her a crash-course on how to do stuff in the Land of Harvest (aka the human world), where she’ll go face off against Killian for control over this young lady who has been infected. Oh, and Elizabeth is also on her team, as if the entire situation isn’t ridiculous enough as it is. 

The first lesson is a shell, which is the only way to interact with mortals. Levi says some stuff about the weapons shells have, but again, it kind of feels like the author wrote a bunch of words, but none of them SEEM important. At least, not right now. 

The first lesson in shells is simply to enter them. Which seems easy, but it’s actually really hard. Ten has to focus a lot simply to stay inside. But she’s determined, and eventually gets it. 

Bonus chapter 3

A report of this exchange has been sent to your superior, General Levi Nanne.

Bonus chapter 3 summary: The first couple of “emails” are between Ten and Levi. Except that Ten sent them from inside her new shell, and she’s quite bad at working the keyboard; the message is literal gibberish, which Levi comments upon. 

Then, there’s a long email from Killian to Ten. He said that Archer had given him a Troikan communication device before he’d died. He says that her dad is living it up, but that her mom has requested a trial date to switch sides, and Killian has his friends protecting her around the clock because of this. 

When Ten tries to message him back (with some barely coherent nonsense), she gets an error message and a note that it’ll be reported to Levi. 

#lifeblood #everlife series #bookblr #book review #scifi #romance novels #ya novels #dystopia #religious imagery

[orator95]

It's been a rough couple of months.. - Hi

Unfortunately, I've been thinking about killing myself for the past 2 days. I've felt very defeated. Extremely exhausted mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually. I'm struggling financially. Anything can happen and I am not prepared, at all. That's a terrifying way to live when you have a tiny person dependent on you.

I've cried and I've cried and I've cried

nothing changed

Ive been so angry I can black out in rage and just completely lose my shit.

Bless, all the years of work I put in to allow me to still be able to find my center and joy in the present.

My son is my Hero.

The days have been getting harder. Money is shorter. Work is scarce. Patience Thin. Faith Shaken. Some days I don't even want to talk or move. But I don't have time to be depressed or process my emotions or change, all I have time for is to be a provider and nurturer for my son.

While fighting suicidal thoughts tonight, my son begins telling me about an incident on the playground with a kid at school while he's laying down. Which I was super excited to hear about cause I have to pry information out of him. He's always generic like "good" "the usual"

Anyways, He tells me about a kid who he thought was his friend telling him he can't be apart of the "emo kid group" and it made him emotional.

He seem to be very affected by this so I began telling him how he needs to be able to judge a good friend from a bad friend and I give him descriptive examples. Further more, I go on to empower him and tell him how cool, funny and intelligent he is. I tell him he's a leader and he don't need to try to fit into any group or follow behind anyone. He's a superstar. I mean his name is Platinum Dove.

Hes fidgeting a lot with the pillows and stuff animals so I tell him to stop messing with the stuff and look at me.

I tell him that he has to be able to navigate the world confidently cause I can't always be there to defend him.

He's crying and I'm choking up while expressing to him.

I ask him, why are you crying?

He says, That's so nice of you. That's so nice what you said.

and he keep repeating that as we cry a little bit together and I tell him I'm your mother babe, I'm supposed to be and say nice things to you. I love you and I'm a be here for you, always, no matter what.

His little arms wrap around me and he lay his head on my chest and falls asleep

I hold him tight, crying silently. Hard. For multiple reasons beyond this moment.

But in that moment I realized how much pain and trauma it was cause my son if I took my own life. But also how much he needed those words of love and encouragement from his Mother to soothe his little being and reinforce his confidence. Who else is going to do that for him if I leave him? I can't die, Platinum have too much life to live and I want to be here to live it with him.

Thank you God for providing a way in the desert. Lord knows, I was working overtime to combat those suicidal and depressive thoughts.

Granted things are still a shit show, but as my Nana used to say, we taking it one day at a time.

[caeraashe]

Real Life

TW: injury description, mentions of violence, dogs

My dad's dog got attacked on a walk yesterday. I don't know the details of what happened, beyond that she was attacked by another dog, and he pulled them apart.

He got bit in the process, but will be fine. She is a 14 year old Xolo and is injured.

Lacerations to her ear

Major injury to her jaw requiring sutures

Puncture wounds to shoulder

Minor punctures to head

They couldn't get her into an emergency vet last night. Everywhere was too busy. They waited 6 hours before going home because at least they had pain meds for her there. They got her in early this morning. She's on antibiotics. Had 4 drains put in, 2 head 2 shoulder. They let her go home after a day in the clinic.

I can't message him directly because every time I try I start crying. I won't make him deal with my emotions on top of everything with her.  I commented on his post, hugs and love and all, but couldn't figure out how to say anything direct. I want to ask him to give her kisses and pats and tell her she's a good dog for me. To video chat me. Or something. I want to see that she is still alive and still breathing, but that requires being able to message him without completely losing it.

I hope she gets better. I keep telling myself she will. They wouldn't have let her go home if they thought she wouldn't, right? But I keep crying. Alternating between crying and exhausted and numb because this is Xiba. She laid by me when I got my wisdom teeth out, and let me cry all over her so many times over the years, and always, always greeted me with a wagging tail and a toy when I came to visit and I don't know what I'll do if she dies. If something goes wrong, if it's sudden...the only reason I know she's hurt is because I happened to check facebook for the first time in months. They are a whole state away. There is no way I could get there in time to say goodbye.

And she's 14 years old. That's old for a dog. I can't expect her to live that many more years. When she does go I won't get to say goodbye. I probably wouldn't even be told until after.

I don't know what's happening with the other dog. The other owners. I'm upset at them. I don't know the details, I don't know what happened, and Xiba isn't good with other dogs. But my dad knows she's not good with other dogs, he crosses the street when another dog comes along, keeps Xiba seperate from them so that things like this don't happen.

I'm supposed to visit in a few weeks. I was going to watch her while my dad was traveling for a couple days. So I'll see her then. I hope I see her then. She'll be ok she'll be ok she will be ok.

...I really don't like this time of year. Bad things always happen in June.

#real life #venting #too many feelings

[scott-mccall-the-hot-girl]

my ultimate guide to thiam fic !!

( as a new teen wolf stan )

-

the classic post war, long ass (multi chapter) fic !!with great development that genuinely made me laugh out loud, they have the best friendship in this & i love it very much. ( like theo teaches liam to drive and i just *happy sobs* ) a fundamental in thiam fanfiction !! all stans have probably already read it but if you haven’t this is in fact a threat ,, go show this vv iconic story some love !!

Airplanes - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: After the Anuk-ite and the hunters are dealt with Liam needs a break. Cue Theo and a road trip that Liam should know better than to think will be peaceful.

Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, 43/43 Chapters, Words: 236,875 (236k)

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okay okay so this one is also post 6B !! but ,, now we introduce fighting monroe & the hunters again ,, so we get the boys & a new mission !! so if you like an intresting plot 11/10 would recommend !! just to be clear this ISN’T complete ,, if that turns you off i understand but definitely give this one a read !! it litterally have theo doing crossword puzzles & fighting zombies

Vacancy Signs - LovelyLittleGrim

Summary: Theo and Liam are in Manhattan negotiating a pack allyship when the zombie apocalypse breaks out. Now, the two of them have to find their way back to Beacon Hills without getting eaten by zombies or killing one another.

Rated: Explicit, Graphic Description of Violence, Not Completed, 15/17 Chapters, Words: 89,605 (89k)

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Royalty AU !! I REPEAT ROYALTY AU !! a fantastic au where i stan their moms more than i stan them !! genuinely so good at the childhood rivals to lovers trope !! i’m genuinely obsessed with this one. has made me cry more than once ,, hurts in a good way <3 the ending is just *chefs kiss* also one of the tags is genuinely: # theo and liam make bad choices for over 130k straight !! if that doesn’t sound appealing i don’t know what does !!

Artificial Love - songbvrd

Summary: Prince Theo and Prince Liam are forced to spend every Summer together from age five onwards. They hate each other, and usually find ways to make each other miserable as much as possible in their six weeks together. But when they're reunited because of intended unions as adults, things change. They're both supposed to be married to noble women, but neither of them is as interested in anyone else as they are with their childhood rival.

Rated: Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, Chapters: 32/32, Words: 172,935 (172k)

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so if you are in the mood for a crack fic that’s not explicitally a crack fic this is for you !! okay so i’m really hit or miss with AU’s ,, sometimes i feel like they don’t quite capture the characters right but this story have the BEST dramatic liam i have ever seen in my life !! basically they all live in the same apartment building & it’s fantastic !! i saw this one floating around a lot but the summary didn’t really unrest me until i have it a shot !! so go read it rn !! also nolan & brett are genuinely fantastic and make me wheeze ,, LIKE ACTUALLY VERBALLY LAUGHING !! all i’m gonna say is that my fav characters are scott & the beetles but that won’t make actual sense until you read it !!

The Neighbors Song - TheodoreR

Summary: “I always hear you singing on your balcony every morning, but suddenly you’ve stopped?”

Or the one where Theo annoys Liam every morning with his awful singing until he doesn’t anymore and Liam is even more annoyed. Liam hates every single thing about his mornings -the fact that they happen in the morning alone is enough. The thing Liam hates the most about his mornings though is the terrible voice of the guy who lives below him. He can’t sing for shit and Liam tried to politely let him understand that by throwing flour and water on his balcony, and also by shouting it to him, you can’t sing for shit!, and then by writing it into a note he proceeded to attach to his door, but this Raeken guy just keeps doing it, every single morning, like a fucking rooster. Liam did nothing to deserve this. He probably didn’t do anything to deserve better either to be fair, he doesn’t expect to open his window and be welcomed by some angelic voice singing him good morning, he’d just be happy with nothing. Silence. That’s something Liam can appreciate in mornings. Just some bark from his dog and the sound of his misery and that’s it. But no, god forbid the new guy lets him have that.

Rated: Explicit, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Wanrings, Completed, 8/8 Chapters, Words: 42,814 (42k)

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me: i’m not a big fan of AU’s ,, proceeds to talk about ANOTHER au… OKAY BUT THIS ONE !! it’s not complete but the author has been updating regularly ,, vv slow burn !! but in a REALLY intresting way !! i lOVE LIAM IN THIS SO MUCH ,, he is such a diaster of a person and it’s wonderful !! they have a great dynamic & i’m sucker for general puppy pack content ( and erica reyes being a badass ) !! also theo plays lacrosse in this & i really like it ahhhhh ,, also liam is just being an artic monkeys stan the whole time & theo is like *que confused repressed gay noises*

Inglorious Roommates - honeyscape

Summary: A roommate is defined as “a person with whom one shares a room.”

Theo would say a roommate was more along the lines of, “The person who's the bane of his existence. The weirdo that sleeps for days. The spaz that exercises at 3am. The guy with a revolving door of annoying friends. An insufferable human being that Theo has no control over living in his room.”

Example: Theo hates his roommate Liam.

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okay okay i hate myself but i have another WIP for y’all !! this one is jUST FANTASTIC. i’m genuinely so upset it’s most likely not going to updated again *incoherent screaming ensues*. for this story ,, it’s very theo-centric bUT thats bc it ends right before liam becomes a concrete member of the story !! ANYWAY: basic plot = theo & acquiring not one but two children ,, so #dad theo but he is still crusty & homeless and i love him very much. it’s just so GOOD !! just read if you want to experience my fav theo coming out story & him etching high school musical

Look who's talking - Captainmintyfresh

Summary: Theo had been labeled many things in his life. Evil, failure, monster. He'd never thought Father would be one of those things but as he looked across the table to a six year old with blue smears of bubble gum icecream across her face trying to coax the first words out of her sister. Finger jabbing towards Theo's face as she repeated 'Daddy' again and again he couldn't bring himself to dispute the label.

(Theo accidentally adopts two young werewolves)

Not Rated, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Not Completed, Chapters: 16/?, Words: 48740 ( 48k )

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so here me out: post-canon ( poetry like angst ) summer get away !! just the boys doing cute little domestic things together whilst pining !! theo’s guilt in this is just so powerful & aGjffkgkkfkvkdlv !! i think it’s so interesting to see how they interact in this one, it’s just very heart warming !! and it features one of my favorite niche teen wolf tropes of theo being great with like seven year old girls- it’s just so good ,, very much a wonderful little one shot that just makes your heart happy.

(next time i see you you'll show me) a hundred different ways to say the same things - cherrysprite

Summary: “...You deserve good things,” Liam says eventually. He makes sure not to look at Theo even though he can feel his eyes turn on him. Somehow he can already tell that Theo doesn’t believe him.

Liam instantly makes that the goal of this summer - making Theo believe him.

Rating: Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 28875 ( 28k )

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okay so this next section of fic recs is a bit different !!

two of my favorite authors !! and a compilation of fics i’ve read by them both !!

for context: these two have written some genuinely gorgeous fics, like pure poetry, they explore the real gritty & scary side of our boys relationship in such a wonderful way. they’ve both used some of my favorite tropes & i love them very much !!

whenever i need something soothing but so genuinely intresting & enticing these are my go to !! ( also they both write a lot of good nolan angst & some vv good fics with hayden )

go check out:

eneiryu

as well as fallingforboys

here are some of my favorite fics by them ~

darling i want you here in my arms (kiss the pain away, i know you can) - fallingforboys

even before you touched me, i belonged to you (all you had to do was look at me) - fallingforboys

memories linger like tattoo scars (but your touch on my skin is just as permanent) - fallingforboys

skin, bones, a stolen heart, and an ugly creature lurking underneath -fallingforboys

i don't know how to breathe in the place i called home - fallingforboys

whisper your gossamer truths into the shadow, maybe you'll find the answers you're searching for - fallingforboys

between the mountains and the valley we built a monument to our regret - eneiryu

cracked the hinges of the cage and waited for you - eneiryu

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okay and finally: since i am a self centered whore

my own fic: an rendition of the # elevator scene

it’s basically my version of post canon if we did get the kiss in the elevator. we got a classic liam pov in which he is has 12/10 for extreme bi diaster energy even whilst being shot at !! so go him ig…

Fuck Off, Fuck This & Fuck It! - nefelibata_peach

Summary: Liam thought to himself heart rate climbing, they were bound to be dead by morning. So he thought with everything but his brain and he kissed him.

Where Liam Dunbar is very confused, slightly traumatized, and just a bit scared but hey, aren't they all! Bad decisions ensue as two boys fight in a war they never did sign up for.

Rating: Teen and Up, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 3558 ( 3k )

#this took me so long #please go read these or i’ll cry #fan fiction #fan fic recs #teen wolf fic recs #thiam fanfiction #thiam fic recs #thiam #theo raeken #liam dunbar #theo x liam #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf gay #teen wolf #ao3 #fuck you fuck this & fuck it #thiam fanfic rec #thiam fanfic #thiam is endgame

[rowanaelinn]

Safe Place

rowaelin month day four : librairies @rowaelinscourt

warning: not descriptive nsfw content

Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius could be described as a calm male. Out of all his companions, he probably was the one with the most self-control and he thanked the Gods for it every time one of his friends said something stupid.

However, it didn’t apply when his wife was concerned. Around Aelin, Rowan’s self-control seemed to vanish. She had the ability to get him angry, to become a blushing mess or a soft idiot with just one sentence. There was no control around his mate and it was one of the reasons he loved her.

But when he woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed, Rowan lost the little human part he had in himself. Rowan lost all control the moment he smelled a lingering scent of fear. Her fear.

Has she been taken again?

Has it all been a dream? Had he not got her back?

In a second, Rowan was standing, knives at the ready around his waist. He would fight to get her back if he had to. Not having Aelin by his side made him feel like all the air in the world was gone.

Rowan wanted to yell at himself for falling asleep, he should have protected her.

In all the times her Fireheart was in danger, Rowan was never there to protect her. What a poor excuse of a husband and mate he was. He still didn't know why his queen was keeping him and hadn't already thrown him out. He was useless. Completely useless.

He kept complaining because of the royal duties, kept saying he liked being a prince just fine because it didn’t bring him any mess. His only role as King Consort, mate, and husband was to protect Aelin and he had shown the world how bad he was at it. Multiple times.

She wasn’t okay, he could feel her sadness from her side of the bond. Rowan felt like a prick for being relieved at the feeling of her emotions just because it meant she was still alive and not in a damn iron coffin that blocked every chance for them to communicate.

First, he came out of the royal apartments, following Aelin’s faint scent. She had become so damn good at hiding herself with her magic, a trick Fenrys taught all of them. It was a useful skill to have, Rowan was relieved most of the time no one could track her with her scent but he wasn’t tonight. Not when he needed to see her.

Thankfully with Aelin’s condition lately, her scent was stronger which meant she couldn’t cover up all of it. He refused to imagine she had been taken away until he had searched the entire castle twice. She had to be here, somewhere.

He went first to the kitchen, hoping to find her behind the counter, a plate with chocolate cake in front of her. She would look up, fork still in mouth and she would smile guiltily at him. She would apologize, saying she was always so hungry lately and he would shake it off, taking another fork and join her even if he hated cake. Just to show her she wasn’t alone.

But when he opened the door, the kitchen was empty, making Rowan’s heart clench.

Next, he went to the throne room, hoping to find her sitting on her throne, a sad smile on her face she would try to conceal with a smirk. He would ask her what she was doing here and she would tell him she needed to be alone and to feel in power, and what better than her throne to make her feel powerful? But this room was empty too, and Rowan’s heart crushed a little further.

Maybe she was in the inside cemetery, kneeling between both her parent’s graves. She would look up at him and wouldn’t try to hide her tears. She would have a smile on her face, telling him she needed to feel close to them. To be between the two of them without waking up with blood everywhere. Rowan would nod and sit behind her, letting her rest her back on his chest and he would let her cry bringing her all the comfort she needed. But she wasn’t here, and Rowan didn’t know where to look for her now.

If they were in Rifthold, he would probably think she was speaking to either Sam or Nehemia, telling both of them everything about what happened in their court since the last time she spoke to them.

But they weren’t in Adarlan so it left only one place where she could be. His walk to the library was slow, slower than he wished. He could just shift and fly instead of taking all the stairs but if she was there she would make fun of him for it, she had enough to tease him already.

When he arrived at the library, as always, he was dazzled by the splendor of the room. The last time the librarians counted, Aelin and Rowan owned three hundred thousand books and that was a decade ago, just after the construction work was finished.

Aelin had cried and laughed and smiled for hours when she first saw it, walking through all the sections to see every book, then made love to Rowan on the floor, more tenderly than they were both used to, to thank him.

As if seized by a frenzy, Rowan walked like a mad man through the library to find her. He regretted giving her something so big, having to look at every fucking row. There were so many places to hide.

After what seemed like hours, Roan saw familiar blonde hair. He let a sob come out in relief. She wasn't gone. There was no Valg Queen that had pulled her away from Rowan, no, his Fireheart was just sitting on a couch that looked very comfortable, six pillows behind her back.

"Rowan?" She asked, raising her eyes full of concern. "Is everything okay?" Her eyebrows were furrowed.

Instead of answering, he rushed to her side, falling onto her lap to be on the same level as her and scanning her entire body to make sure she was okay and truly in front of him.

His eyes fell on a small scar on her right knee, a scar she had made during one of their training sessions. He remembered kissing the mark every night for weeks when he noticed it after enjoying his wife's goddess body. He hadn't noticed that she was injured during their workout and he felt terrible about it.

Aelin kept telling him he was fussing, but he knew deep down she liked it. She loved to be cherished and protected. He dropped his head to her lap, unable to fight a sob. She put her book aside, sitting straighter and one of her hands found her way in his hair. Rowan hated himself for the tears streaming down his face as he looked up at her, he hated himself even more for the look of agony on his mate’s face.

“Speak to me, please.” She begged him, her hand still playing in his hair.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even and strong but he couldn’t. “I thought you were gone.” He breathed deeply, trying to calm down and focusing on where he touched her, his hands and arms on her legs. “I woke up to an empty bed and your fearful scent and I panicked.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Rowan.”

“You weren’t supposed to go anywhere either last time but you still did.” He hated the poisonous words the moment they felt his mouth but his mate didn’t seem hurt, knowing anger was his way to cope.  “I’m sorry,” He hid his face on her leg, not wanting to see her hurt face.

“Don’t be,” Was the only thing she said as she kept stroking his hair. She was too good to him, she had always been. She had known so much pain her entire life but she was still an amazing person, Rowan didn’t know how much strength it must take her. The Gods knew Rowan lacked that particular strength when the time had come, he had turned into the worst version of himself. He admired his Fireheart.

After a moment, Rowan looked back at her and she smiled, his entire world brightened at this. She was okay, she was right here with him. She was safe.

“How are you?” He asked, feeling selfish for crying when she was the one who had a nightmare.

“We’re both okay, Rowan.” She reassured him as her free hand came to rest on her slightly rounded belly. Rowan’s heart swelled at the sight, he still couldn’t believe it. After years, decades, of trying Azlin was pregnant. She had been glowing for the past four months, even if she said otherwise.

“Is she still kicking?” He asked, one of his hands joining Aelin’s.

“Your son is restless, I hope you slept enough in your life because he’s not going to let us sleep much once he’s here.”

Both Aelin and him had a divergence of opinion on their baby’s sex. Aelin was sure it was a boy, whereas Rowan believed it was a girl. A girl had been their oldest in the vision he had for months when Aelin was gone. It had been too realistic to be a dream, had felt too real.

Yrene knew and had asked them if they wanted to know, but both of them agreed they wanted to keep it secret. They had too many surprises in their lives and none of them had been good, but this one would be. No more surprises unless it’s a good one.

“She’ll be worth every sleepless night.” His lips turned into a smile at the idea of a little Aelin and Rowan.

Aelin snorted. “Wait until you have to change diapers.”

At that, Rowan laughed, soon followed by Aelin. When he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes, his smile faded. “What did you dream of?” He asked, needing to know why his wife had left their room after a nightmare instead of waking him up.

She lost her smile too, her body tenser than moments ago. “Nothing important.”

“Please, tell me.”

She took a deep breath and some time to answer. Rowan didn’t mind, he’d give her eternity if she needed as long as he knew what troubled his wife. He got up, lifted Aelin's legs so he could sit next to her, and then rested her legs on his while he caressed her thighs in comfort. “I was you.”

“With Maeve?”

She shook her head making his confusion grow. She had already told him about nightmares of him being taken on that beach, of him being whipped and tortured for months. He had held her as she cried, as she told him the pain of losing him would have been so much more than the pain she experienced all these months away from him.

“In Arobynn’s cave.” She whispered as tears pooled in her eyes. He wouldn’t take her in his arms, he would wait for her to do it first, no need to overwhelm her. “With your eyes missing, whole body destroyed and a cold body.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Fireheart…”

“Have you ever dreamed of me like that?” She asked and he knew she didn’t mean just dreams of her, dead.

“I did.” He admitted, his heart beating faster at the thought of it. “First in Wendlyn, when you left for Rifthold. Every time I closed my eyes I lived the day I found Lyria over and over again. But it wasn’t her small body that I saw, it was yours. It haunted me for months.” He took a deep breath, controlling his emotions. Aelin was crying, she didn’t need someone else to become a wreck. “Then when you told me you were pregnant, it started again.”

It happened more than he wanted to admit. He knew it wouldn’t happen, it was impossible, but he still could see her dead body in front of his destroyed mountain home.

Aelin didn’t say anything but she straddled him, his hands finding her waist as her fingers slipped through his hair. Her forehead came to rest on his as they both closed their eyes, enjoying each other’s company. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

His hand stroked her back, his fingers drawing the lines of his tattoo he knew by heart now. Every part of her body was written in his mind. “You were sleeping so peacefully, I know it’s rare lately.” Her warm hand cupped his cheek and he sighed in her embrace. “Whenever I don’t feel okay and you’re not around, I come here.”

“The library?”

“Or the theater if I feel like walking.” Which wasn’t a lot lately, his wife’s pregnancy was taking her so much energy they didn’t go to the theater in months. She was always so tired or in pain, he knew she missed it. “Whenever I’m here, I feel so close to you, as if part of your soul was here between these walls.”

His heart clenched at it, he lifted up his head, his lips settled gently on hers. He kissed her languidly, generously, putting as much love and passion as he could. He loved her so much he felt like dying. He would die without her.

Slowly, she began to unbutton his shirt, her tongue continuing to play with Rowan's. The kiss turned from passionate to needy. He needed the reassurance she was here, she was with him, and his mate knew it.

In a matter of moments, Rowan was shirtless and had pulled her nightgown over her head, revealing her naked body. Aelin had gained weight in the years since the war, her body that had once been too thin was now full. She had had a hard time adjusting, she had been starving most of her life. Even during her years with Arobynn, she was always under a strict diet to stay the best. She had never been in a stable enough place for her to thrive.

So when her flat stomach rounded out, thighs grew and cheeks filled out, it was a shock. Rowan had been there to worship her body day and night, reminding her that she was just living, and seeing her happy was the most beautiful thing Rowan had ever seen.

One of Rowan’s hands was teasing Aelin’s sensitive nipple, tearing little cries out of her perfect, delicate, lips. Her hands undid his buckle quickly as Rowan lifted his hips to slide his pants and underwear down, freeing his hard member.

Aelin didn’t waste time before taking him, her hand around him applying just the right amount of pressure. His hand slipped between her legs, directly finding her wet and warm entrance. They moaned together as Aelin’s hand movement quickened and Rowan plunged two fingers in her warmth, hitting that spot inside of her that made her scream every time.

As good as it was, Rowan craved something else, so when he groaned Aelin understood. He pulled out his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste her. No matter how many years had passed since the first time, Rowan kept being surprised at how good she tasted. He moaned around his fingers as Aelin teased her entrance with his erection before sinking down, making both of their heads drop back.

Being inside of her had always felt so good, had always felt so right, as if he had been born just to do this. Her belly prevented their chests from touching but Rowan didn’t mind as he ran his hands on every inch of her skin as she started moving.

Aelin kept bouncing slowly on top of him, taking her time as she chased her pleasure, and once again Rowan realized how much he loved her. His Fireheart, his mate, his wife, and his best friend.

He loved her so damn much and he told her so, repeated it over and over again as they both fell over the edge, gripping the other’s skin as they reached the peak of pleasure.

They were both breathless as he lifted her up, pulling out of her and he used his shirt to clean her up. He didn’t want to get dressed not yet, anyway. He lied on his side, tucking his Fireheart next to him. That way, every inch of his front could touch her back. One of his hands came to rest on her belly as he took her book, opening it to where she had left a bookmark.

“What are you doing?” She asked him, her voice sleepy. He used his magic to extinguish most of the candles in the bookstore, leaving only the ones behind him lit to give him some light. "Shhh." He said softly into her ear, moving slightly to be more comfortable, and pulled her even closer to him. "You don't have to come back to reality now."  He told her then began to read her book aloud.

He couldn’t see her but deep down, he left her smile as she put her hand against his, both of them holding their baby as they hugged each other.

Aelin fell asleep quickly but Rowan didn’t stop reading, even if after many hours his voice became hoarse and his throat hurt. But if his Fireheart heard him maybe she would know he was still here, even in her sleep.

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@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy

#rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius

[sugawara-sweetheart]

parasite | part ii (m)

❥oikawa x fem!reader x kunimi x kindaichi | seijoh x fem!reader 

❥warnings: mentions/descriptions of somnophilia, public sex, rough sex, biting | minor implication of cheating | Stockholm syndrome, manipulation | noncon, heavy degradation, humiliation, spitting, voyeurism, nipple play, dacryphilia, handjob, choking, slapping, cock-slapping, facial + creampie

❥word count: 5.4k

hell has always been depicted one way. crimson fire and blood sweeping across, anguished face melting into skulls, darkness plaguing. but that’s wrong.

this is hell.

being oikawa tōru’s dirty little cumslut is hell.

you thought it would’ve gotten better after almost three years of finishing high school had passed but it’s the same. you wake with a heavy heart, stinging tears building in your eyes and oikawa’s cock forced its way into your aching cunt, his lips pressed to your throat, staining fresh bruises over the old ones. it was foolish to think the day you folded up your aoba johsai uniform for the last time ever that you were free of your dirty time at the school, but you were so wrong.

and it isn’t just oikawa. it isn’t unusual for iwaizumi to turn up at the door of oikawa’s doorstep, not just to see his best friend because the two are still inseparably close, but to demand you.

“come on, you’ve been hogging her for too long, making her into your slut. stop being greedy and learn to share, shittykawa.” is all he spits, tugging you away roughly by the arm whilst oikawa merely laughs.

“play nice, iwa-chan!” is all he calls, waving you away.

sometimes iwaizumi just can’t wait. more often than not he’s fucked you in his car, the cold windows steaming up as he grunts in your ear, hips snapping into yours till his hot white cum spills all over your clothes, clinging to the fabric. and then when you finally return back to his apartment it happens all over again. you can’t find it in yourself to cry anymore but maybe iwaizumi’s more careful than oikawa; there’s always a tenderness in his eyes when he brushes your hair out of your sweating face, asking you if you’re okay. but what are you supposed to say? tell him no, you’re fucking done with this shit, as if they’d ever let you go?

even makki and mattsun hadn’t fully let go. the two may have moved away to tokyo for university but they still return often, sometimes together, sometimes alone. too many assignments. close deadline. girlfriend is pissing him off. and all oikawa does is laugh cheerily, swinging his arm around his shoulder, a suggestive gleam in his crinkled eyes.

“need some stress relief?” and you’re whoever’s for the night to use as they wish.

maybe if you had applied to another high school or another club or you weren’t so outgoing, things would’ve been different.

but instead you’re oikawa’s little toy to be passed around as he wishes, and he’d always been a good senpai to his underclassmen, a good captain to his former teammates even to this day.

yahaba gets you first after he graduates. you don’t know what happened to the sweet, charming boy who always went out of his way to treat you like a delicate angel because the way his hand strikes your cheek burns with a sting as he drives his cock into your cunt relentlessly, spitting about what a dirty slut you are, how you’re only good to get fucked, the only thing you can do is take cock. but he isn’t as bad as kyōtani. you were sure you were lucky to be alive, after his hands locked around your throat too hard, squeezing your airways tight till black spots began to appear in your teary vision.

even iwaizumi and oikawa had been stunned when you’d returned. deep bruises stained your arms and bite marks etched into your legs, handprints on your throat and welts on your cheeks, pink cum clinging to your panties. neither of them had been able to say anything but there was a deep crease between iwaizumi’s brows as he rubbed the ointment carefully onto you.

“gonna kill him.” he hissed to himself when you winced with the pain and flinch at his movements. but they still didn’t refuse the next time kyōtani came around asking for a go.

but even after everything- even after he lets you be used, be spat on and slapped, have your hair pulled till strands are ripped from your burning scalp and there’s bite marks bruising your skin- the only time you feel cathartic calmness wash over you is when you’re in oikawa’s arms, his fingers brushing through your hair, his clean scent filling your nose.

“oh, you’re such a cute, little slut. a good girl.” he hums, nuzzling his face against your cheek with a smile on his face. if it had been different, you’d have looked like an adorable couple perhaps. but this was anything but.

one night when you’d been lying next to oikawa, staring up at the dark ceiling, fantasies began to paint in your mind. what if your innocent teenage crush on oikawa had been reciprocated differently? maybe you’d be lying beside him optionally, that you would choose to kiss him and let him touch you and he wouldn’t laugh at you and mock you for sobbing even though your wetness is drooling from your tight, slutty hole- and even if he did, it’d be okay because it’d just be a fantasy and you know he’d love you. or what if you had refused that night what feels like so many years ago? what if you had pushed him away, asked him to leave, if you hadn’t given in to the heavy sense of not wanting to disappoint weighing down on you?

“what you thinking about?” you start slightly at oikawa’s saccharine voice purring in your ear as he shifts, pressing his body against yours and resting his hand over your waist. you try not to tense too much- he always hates it when you do. “don’t you trust me, y/n-chan? you know i’d never hurt you- why would you think i would?” he’d pout, scandalised and hurt by the idea of you being scared of him, even though you know he doesn’t really care. in fact, you’re sure he likes the fear.

“i’m just thinking.” you breathe. you can feel his eyes piercing into you, even in the darkness as your eyes flutter shut. that fantasy of being free is so beautiful. “tōru, would you ever let me go?”

“let you go?” he laughs but you feel his arm tighten around your waist. “where would you go?” you don’t reply but his legs tangle with yours and he pulls you into his hold, resting his lips against your ear. “i care for you here. i give you a home, food, clothes- anything you want i give you. you wouldn’t have anyone else like that in the world.” he sounds hurt, voice mocking and it makes your chest twinge. he wasn’t wrong; he was busy practising and playing volleyball, heading towards his dream of being a pro-athlete and competing at the very top nationwide- worldwide even perhaps- but he still always came home to you. he still always had time for you. “why would you want to go?” there’s a heavy pregnant pause and your throat feels tight before you can mumble out an apology, shaking your head to dispel the fantasies you crave. the tension washes away and you can feel his lips stretch into a smile as you curl into him. “that’s right, sweetie. you’d never want to leave me.”

spring used to be your favourite time of year. cherry blossom always looked so beautiful and there was nothing as exhilarating as finishing the long, strenuous academic year and getting to admire the beautiful pink blossom decorating the trees, drifting in the light airy breeze. before you would celebrate- it used to be sweet, happy memories to be sipping peach tea under the cherry blossom trees as the warm, spring air carried your laughter with your friends: oikawa, iwaizumi, hanamaki and matsukawa. oikawa still takes you to see it, but now pink blossom bleeds into scarlet with his fingers gripped around your wrist, a bitter taste weighs heavy on your tongue.

one spring night oikawa invites kunimi and kindaichi round. their cheeks are flushed pink with tipsy joy in the warm living room as they sip cold beers, laughing over old memories with the sounds of a volleyball game on television playing in the background. it’s supposed to be a nice thing- a senpai, a captain, treating his underclassmen for finally graduating, but your stomach still churns with anxiety, cold sweat dampening your skin even when you shuffle closer to oikawa. the soft scent of his cologne doesn’t calm you now and your glass of juice weighs heavy in your hand. you’re sure if you even try to open your mouth you’ll be sick.

but you don’t mind.

it’s better to feel ignored as you sink into the couch, staring at the blue and yellow striped ball flashing on the television than to acknowledge kunimi and kindaichi’s eyes boring into you. something about them makes your skin crawl- it’s been a few years since you’d left high school but it feels different now. back then they had adored you- you were their manager, their senpai who always gave them the coldest water bottles first, who defended them from the other senpais, who always cheered them on and offered to buy them ramen and meat buns after practise. and now you can’t say exactly what it is but they look at you differently.

“another beer?” oikawa asks and the two dark-haired boys nod. you try to swallow the thick lump in your throat when he gets up from beside you on the couch, prising his arm away from you even if you try to cling to his sleeve and the living room door snapping shut behind him makes all the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up. you try not to look at them, staring at the television screen but it’s hard to focus when the bright light stings and bleeds out into white lines from the hot tears building in your orbs. there’s a flash of movement. your heart drops as you sink into the couch, horrified to find kindaichi has moved from the other end closer, kunimi standing from the armchair and towering over you.

“you guys okay?” your voice wavers and you grip the hem of your shirt tight, hoping it’ll mask how your hands tremble but you can’t even meet their eyes piercing into you.

“we’re not stupid, you know.” kindaichi spits first. you can see it now, hear it- the disgust laced in his tone, in his narrowed eyes. “we want our turn.”

“w-what?” kunimi scoffs next, shaking his head as a somewhat amused smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“don’t play dumb, y/n. we know you’ve been their little fucktoy for years now. and now it’s our turn to use you too.”

an iciness strikes through your chest as you stare at the two boys, cowering as you sink into the couch, shaking your head furiously.

“n-no! it’s not like that!”

“really?” there’s a harsh mocking to kindaichi’s tone, his eyes widened in faux disbelief. “are you saying yahaba and kyōtani were both lying? that your cunt was the tightest little hole they’d ever fucked? that you weren’t so good at taking dick right now down that little throat?” you gasp, spluttering  on your words as you try to protest. they edge closer as fear rises in you, and a desperate squeal falls from your lips when kindaichi’s heavy hand grips your shoulders, pushing you flat against the  couch.

you cry out as his fingers fumble for the buttons of your shirt, your hands clawing at his and legs flailing, and he grunts when your foot strikes into his stomach.

“you fucking bitch.” kunimi hisses, grabbing your hands as kindaichi clambers over your legs, his sheer weight feeling like it’s crushing your bones.

“stay still, dumb whore- do you think anyone’s going to help you?” the buttons come falling off your shirt as kindaichi rips it open and your scream is lost when kunimi sticks his fingers into your mouth, your throat closing up on the drool that spills from your lips.

but then the door opens and oikawa stands in the doorway, mouth hanging open and three beers in his hand.

“what’s going on?” you sob heavily when kunimi pulls his fingers from your mouth and releases your wrists, your hands immediately falling to your chest to cover yourself up and neither kindaichi nor kunimi try to stop you when you scramble away from them, hurrying to oikawa. he lets you fall into his arms as he places the beers down on the coffee table, holding you and swaying you gently with gentle shushes.

“t-tōru, t-they-” you shake as you cling to him, wet tears staining your cheeks as you bury your head in his chest and he coos as he cups the back of your head.

“oh, it’s okay, sweetie. don’t worry, i’m here now.” his voice is so gentle. but then he chuckles. his chest vibrates against your head as you tense in his hold. it doesn’t feel like safety anymore.

“you guys couldn’t wait, huh?” tuts oikawa, lifting a brow as he stares at kindaichi and kunimi, a mocking smirk tugging at his lips.

“everyone else got a go on her.” says kunimi. “so why can’t we fuck the slut too?” you flinch at his words, clinging to oikawa’s t-shirt tighter as he merely laughs.

“you can- i’m not saying you can’t. but do you even know how to fuck a woman?” you shake as he pulls you away from him, cupping your face and tilting it up so his eyes can lock with yours. he always scrutinises you, taking in your watery eyes that waver with fear, your trembling lips that whispered begs fall from.

“what was that, sweetheart? i can’t hear you.” the only sound in the room other than the ignored television is your heavy pants as you can barely gasp for air. blood rings in your ears and your heart pounds, knees feeling weak as you cling to oikawa.

“p-please, tōru- d-don’t let them.”

“aw, baby.” your eyes clench shut as he grips your face, swiping his thumb messily over your cheeks, rubbing your tears into your flushed skin roughly enough that it hurts. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you.” you groan when his hand suddenly reaches under your skirt, grabbing your clothed cunt as you squirm but he’s too strong, pressing his fingers against your clothed clit and rubbing it through the fabric as kindaichi and kunimi stare hungrily.

“tōru, stop it!”

“oh, don’t act like you don’t want it.” you struggle as he spins you around, forcing you to face the two men with your back pressed to his chest. one of his large hands easily grip both your wrists and the other rubbing your pussy through your panties. it’s humiliating, how they both stare at you like you’re nothing more than a piece of meat, darkened eyes lustful and hard outlines of their cocks pressing against the tight restraints of their jeans. “you were such a good manager to them too- it’s only fair you let them watch. besides,” you shudder as he presses a kiss to your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “they might pick up one or two things for when i'm not here.”

“please-” you try to turn your head to face him, pleading eyes wide. you’d been used so many times before. you’re exhausted by now. and now, there’s more of them to use you? would there be any end to this? “tōru, i-i’ll do anything else, just-” fresh tears build in your eyes as you try to wrestle his grip around your hands. it starts to feel warm between your legs, your panties growing damper. your toes are almost starting to curl in your socks as oikawa’s fingertips rub swirls on your swelling clit. “j-just not like this.”

“aw, that’s rude to our guests, y/n-chan.” you hate the feeling of his hot breath dancing on your skin between the open-mouthed kisses he presses to your neck and jaw, still damp with the tears that stream down your cheeks. “besides, you’re getting so wet. are you sure you don’t like this?”

“bet she loves it, the slut.” kindaichi scoffs, voice permeated with a groan as he palms himself through his jeans.

“oh, you bet.” oikawa smiles. his hands are forceful when they shove you onto the couch, making you groan as your back hits it harshly, but you have nowhere to run as he cages you in. his large hands grip your thighs, spreading them out with his nails piercing into the bare flesh of your thighs and you’re horribly aware of the little wet patch in the centre of your panties, clinging to your folds, when he tugs down your skirt, letting it pool at your ankles. your half-torn shirt comes off next, your bare nipples pebbling in the cold air.

“tōru-” it’s a pathetic pleading whine as you try to cover yourself up, try to push your legs together but you can’t, not with oikawa between them. “don’t want to.” it’s humiliating, it always has been every time you’ve been stripped bare and shared between a group of men you thought were your friends, but time has desensitised you to that. but now it’s different, it’s new yet nightmarish images flash in your mind. you had been so young then, so young and scared and feeble. and you’re falling back into that. or maybe you never left it.

“oh, don’t whine, baby.” he pouts, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

a gasp falls from your lips when he leans to your chest, his tongue flicking and swirling around your pebbled nipples, making your eyes flutter shut as you squirm below him. you don’t want the whines to fall from your lips but they’re hard to control. “she’s really sensitive here. look.” he rolls his fingers against the little buds, causing you to jerk and your toes to curl in your socks but hurt is etched all over your face, making oikawa simply laugh as he continues to flick his fingertips along your sensitive buds. “cute, right?”

“i bet she’s so wet.” sneers kunimi, his eyes flickering up from your chest to your face. through the hot tears brimming in your eyes you can clearly see the coldness he stares at you with. you’re nothing. there’s no mercy for the girl he’d respected as his senpai, his sweet manager-chan who he’d let ruffle his hair and tease him for being so lazy. you’re nothing but a mere- “slut.”

“look at her still struggling.” you whine at kindaichi’s snarl, but it bleeds out into a breathy gasp as oikawa wraps his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and lapping as he chuckles against your skin, kunimi scoffing with agreement.

“she does this a lot.” oikawa smiles when he releases your nipple with a wet pop. you feel like a little doll on display, there to be used for entertainment. and even though you’re not new to it, it still hurts all the same. more possibly. “but once you keep going,” his grip around your wrists tighten as he sits on your kicking legs, making you groan at the pain of his weight, and his other hand grabs your jaw forcefully, fingertips pressing into your cheek roughly. “she starts to like it.” the manic grin on his face sends shivers running through you that you fall frozen. all you can see is oikawa blaring in your mind like a horrible hallucination. “like the horny bitch in heat she is. she’s an insatiable cockslut.”

he prises your mouth open with his fingertips squeezing your cheeks and you flinch when he spits, a cold globule landing on your tongue. the horrible sensation makes you cringe but you’ve been conditioned, almost like a dog, that your pussy clenches.

“messy bitch.” you barely even get to process kindaichi’s words before oikawa’s shoving his fingers into your mouth, weighing down heavy on your salivating tongue. they edge towards the back of your throat, your throat tightening as you gag and you jerk under his weight, making them laugh sneeringly and stinging tears well in your eyes.  how pathetic.

“she really is.” oikawa smiles, his eyes flickering between kindaichi and kunimi. “and she’s good with her mouth too. because she’s a good little slut, aren’t you?” he nods his head slowly, almost like he’s urging a toddler to speak and you can only glower at him through your tears with his fingers forced in your mouth. “go on, say it.” kunimi and kindaichi watch with keen interest, horrible smirks plastered on their faces and you can clearly see the way they’re palming themselves so eagerly. how is it all the men you’d trusted, the same men you considered good enough to be family, were all so depraved?

“y/n-chan…” you try to force the humiliating words out but  it’s pathetic with drool bubbling from the corners of your lips, making you slobber all over oikawa’s hand and your own chin. your chest wrenches with the deep grunt kindaichi releases, the buckle of his belt clicking and a fresh wave of hot tears arise in your eyes again. this is embarrassing. worse than embarrassing.

“look at her crying.” says kunimi with a twisted smile on his face. “cry some more, bitch.” and you feel pathetic when you do, your face crumpling as hot tears run down your cheeks, your sobs muffled by oikawa’s fingers in your mouth. he groans as he slowly rocks his hips into you, grinding his erection against your body whilst kindaichi slowly strokes his cock.

“she looks pretty when she cries, right?” oikawa smiles.

you gasp for air, your throat feeling tight, when he finally rips his fingers from your mouth. strings of saliva break and splatter over your messy chin and he coos at the drool glistening off his fingers.

“messy girl. but it works as the best lube for your sloppy pussy, doesn’t it?” he releases your wrists and immediately you bury your sobbing face into your trembling hands, the tears running into the drool as oikawa spreads your legs wider.

“tōru, please- this is enough.”

“we’ve not even started yet, stupid bitch.” kindaichi growl cuts through harshly and you flinch when he grabs your hands, yanking it towards his cock. “just shut up and take it.” you recoil at the sight of his dick, slapped against his clothed stomach. he’s thick, the bulbous head leaking beads of precum and the prominent veins lacing along, but you don’t have a choice when his strength easily overpowers yours, grabbing your hand and spitting into the palm of it. his saliva feels horrible on your skin but it’s surely worse when he forces your fingers around his length.

“you’re a natural, kindaichi.” laughs oikawa. “do you like that, y/n-chan? do you like his cock in your hand?” you hate it. you hate the warm weight you’re forced to squeeze as kindaichi exhales heavily- but you barely get to cry out any protest before oikawa shoves his fingers into you.

it burns- three fingers already stretching you out with sharp scissoring motions that makes you gasp, your hand tightening around kindaichi’s cock and you hate the moan it draws out for him. oikawa isn’t usually like this- he’s rougher with his sharp fingerfucks against your spongy walls, your saliva mixing with the squelching wetness that fills the room.

“oh, she’s so tight just around my fingers.” oikawa hums. “just imagine how tight you’ll be around my cock.”

“and so wet too.” kunimi’s eyes are widened slightly as he watches how your pussy sucks in oikawa’s fingers, drenched in a thick sheen of your glistening slick. “fuck.” he groans under the sound of his zipper being undone and you cringe as you see him pull out his cock from the corner of your eye. it’s too much- warm pleasure begins to swirl in you, your toes curling at the rush as the pressure builds in the pit of your stomach, oikawa’s hips grinding his hard cock into your leg, kindaichi forcing you to stroke his length and kunimi jacking off right by your face. it’s horrible. it’s suffocating and you feel like you’re drowning-

a heavy moan falls from your lips and your hips jerk at the sudden hot flash of pleasure that rushes through you. a bright grin spreads across oikawa’s lips as his fingers stutter, and then he does it again. and again. his fingers rub against that sensitive spot that has the pleasure surging so much faster through you. your moans are harder to hold back, even though you hate them, but wetness drools from your cunt so much more.

“she likes that.” oikawa chuckles. “didn’t you say you didn’t want this? now look at you, soaking my hand and moaning like a whore.” you groan as he puckers his lips, spitting directly onto your glistening folds as slick dribbles down between your spread thighs.

“her cunt is so messy.” kindaichi murmurs.

“yeah.” oikawa exhales. “it’s this spot right here when you curl your fingers. it’ll make her cum so hard, just like a dumb whore she is. won’t it?” his voice sounds distant but his mocking tone is harsh as blood pounds in your ears and pleasure builds higher and higher. your skin feels hot and you’re so wet, walls gripping his fingers tighter. “you’re going to cum, right? cum now.”

your orgasm rushes through you, heavy and forceful as a string of moans fall from your lips. wetness gushes from your cunt, soaking oikawa’s hand in your release as your hips buck up into his hand, your own tightening around kindaichi’s cock. he and kunimi stare hungrily, entranced by the strings of slick that cling to oikawa’s fingers as he smiles proudly.

“wasn’t that nice?” you feel so fucked out. your mind is cloudy, blood pounding and heart racing as you stare at oikawa, dazed and breathless.

“she’s so fucked out.” kindaichi says and you don’t even flinch as he taps your cheek harshly, his fingertips stinging against your hot skin. “already?” oikawa hums in response as he unbuckles his belt, a happy smile painted on his face.

“oh yeah. it makes her a whole lot better to fuck when she’s a dumb, fucked out slut.”

he groans as his wet fingers close around his cock, spreading the slick over the veiny skin as his head falls back. he strokes himself slowly, squeezing the head and  chuckling at the precum that oozes from the flushed slit.

“oh, this cunt is going to feel so good.” his cock is heavy as he slaps it against your swollen clit, making you jerk with the sensitivity but his hand pins your hip in place with a bruising grip as he slides his cock into your wet hole. with the amount of wetness pooling below you the sting is minimal but you hate his deep, pleasured groan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as your walls cling to his length.

“t-tōru-” his name falls softly from your lips and you want to push away at his hips, stop him from filling you up any further with his thick cock as the sensitivity makes you shudder. “t-too big.”

“take it, y/n-chan.” he grunts through gritted teeth. his hips are sharper as he pushes into you, making you gasp as it takes.

“that’s what you’re here for.” kunimi hisses. “you’re just a cockslut.” you flinch at his words, your face crumpling as tears stain your cheeks once more but this time it makes oikawa groan louder, his hands circling your throat as he bottoms out in you.

“oh, you look so pretty when you cry.” you hate the feeling of his wet tongue on your cheeks, lapping at your tears with his fingers around your throat, but it ends quickly when he quickly pulls away, frowning at kunimi. “you can use her hand, you know.”

the younger man doesn’t hesitate to snatch your hand, dragging it towards his cock and you shudder as he licks your clammy hand, his wet saliva coating your skin before he forces it around the base of his cock. he’s thicker than kindaichi, longer too, and a deep breathy moan escapes him as he forces your hand along his length, just like kindaichi.

“now watch.”

a cry escapes you and your head fall back as oikawa starts to pound into you. he’s rough and fast, cockhead almost slamming against your cervix and hipbones snapping into yours.

“h-hurts. please.”

“i said take it.” oikawa’s voice is a deep, primal growl, rumbling deep from his throat as his fingers tighten around your neck, squeezing the air out of you. your walls clench tighter, body tensing but it just seems to make it hurt more as your eyes clench shut, pain pulsating through you as he pounds into your cunt for his own pleasure. “or cry. i don’t care, it just turns me on more. right, guys?” a breathy laugh, half a moan, falls from his lips as kunimi and kindaichi chuckle in agreement.

“she looks like such a slut right now.” the latter breathes. his hips buck up into your hand faster as he watches oikawa’s cock drive into your cunt. “getting railed with two dicks in her hands.”

“well, she’s taken more than this.” oikawa smiles. “you know back when we were in third year, we could pull her into the locker room before a game and she’d jack all four of us off. a real cumdump.” he taps your cheek mockingly as you glower through your tears whilst kunimi and kindaichi both moan at the lewd idea, their hands around yours forcing you to pump their throbbing cocks faster.

“when we get her, i’m gonna ruin her.”

oikawa laughs at the idea, releasing your throat to cup your face as he continues to drive his cock into you. your wetness drools all over his length, squelching lewdly as he smiles sadistically.

“pretty when you’re get fucked, aren’t you?’ his sweet lips press against the corners of your mouth, soft and tender. but the palm that strikes your cheek moments after isn’t- your head swinging limply to the side with your tender skin burning. “she likes it rough, you know? anything goes really”

“oh yeah? this too?” your scalp burns when kindaichi tugs you and you flinch when he grips the base of his cock, slapping the warm weight against your wet lips and cheek. and you hate how it makes oikawa and kunimi groan, the former fucking you faster whilst the latter bucks his hips up into your hole, forcing your fingers into a hole for him to fuck his cock in.

“oh, i think she likes that, kindaichi. she’s squeezing so much tighter.” oikawa laughs as he finds your clit, swirling it slowly as he tugs your face back to him. you can tell he’s taking you in carefully with his sadistically gleaming eyes- he likes seeing your wrecked makeup, your tears and drool, the hurt and pain. “do you want to cum? i’ll make you cum now, baby. you’ve been so good for us tonight after all.”

it used to be a trap. he’s said it plenty of times before- but it didn’t stop until he wants it to. or iwaizumi, or whoever the fuck is using you.

so you have to take it- you take oikawa’s cock pounding into your tight hole, him spitting onto your drooling cunt and swirling your thumb whilst kindaichi and kunimi use your hands, bucking their hips up into your fingers. you don’t know how many times you cum, time blurring but you’re exhausted and your throbbing cunt aches as oikawa’s thrusts become sloppy, his fingers squeezing around your throat again.

“i’m going to cum.” he groans. “going to cum in this tight little cunt. oh, you’re going to take it, won’t you? you’ll take my cum just like the perfect little cumdump-” he breaks off with a loud string of moans, cock twitching and warm spurts shoot into your cunt, flooding your warm walls. and kindaichi and kunimi aren’t far behind- their cocks hang in your face as they jack off with fast pumps, deep moans and breathy swears falling from their lips as you’re forced to watch them till hot ropes of sticky cum shoot from the flushed slits, splattering all over you. it’s everywhere- clinging to the skin of your chest, your tear-stained face, your hair whilst oikawa’s loads drips from your abused hole.

“what a fucking mess she looks.” kindaichi mutters. he looks disgusted.

“a proper cumslut.” oikawa just simply laughs, brown eyes crinkling with sheer amusement.

“well, at least you guys know how to have a fun time so make sure you show her that next week. i’ll be angry at you kouhais if they don’t.”

#darkconfectionery #dark haikyuu #yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa imagines #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere seijoh #seijoh x reader #kindaichi imagines #kindaichi x reader #kunimi imagines #kunimi x reader #oikawa imagines #oikawa x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #tw.noncon #tw.manipulation #tw.voyeurism #cw.degradation #cw.slapping #cw.humiliation #tw.stockholm syndrome

[mushroom-shinobu]

This Time | Tomioka Giyuu x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Description: Giyuu lost you in his past life, but he’s determined not to let you go this time.

Reader Gender: Gender Neutral

Warnings: SPOILERS!!! (Spoilers from the KNY manga), Mentions of violence, death, cussing

Universe: Canon-verse (Although non-canon events occur) Also reincarnation AU (When you meet your soulmate from your past life, you regain some of your memories with them)

Requests: Open!!!

Author’s note: I just realized that the concept I tried to do is confusing- So basically, if you get reincarnated and meet your soulmate from your past life, you regain some of the memories you guys had with each other.

Giyuu had always been in love with you. After meeting you, he immediately became a victim to the hands of love. Your smile, your laugh, your personality, just everything about you was amazing to him.

He always felt a sense of euphoria when he was around you, and he always found his mind wandering back to you when the two of you were apart.

“I love them?” Giyuu asked, turning to face his fellow pillars Mitsuri and Tengen.

“I mean, from what you’ve said about them...” Mitsuri took a second to swallow the dango she was eating. “Yes, it really does seem like you’re in love with them!”

“Are you sure about that? Me being in love with...” Giyuu turned towards your direction.

Giyuu’s gaze softened when his eyes landed on your smiling face. You had been picking random cloves from the grass, and had finally found a four leaf clover, which excited you.

“Man! Look at the way you’re looking at them too!” Tengen groaned, rubbing his head. “And you say you’re not in love with them. Obvious bullshit.”

Mitsuri just giggled while Giyuu looked a Tengen, astounded.

“In love...?” Giyuu asked, raising a hand to his own blushing cheeks.

He always knew that he felt a special feeling around them, but love? Was it really that?

“I mean, if aren’t gonna believe us, it’s ok,” Tengen said, giving Giyuu a small smirk. “But we’re just saying that you most likely are in love with Y/N.”

Tengen got up from the bench he was sitting on, and waved at Giyuu.

“I gotta get going now, so bye.”

“You’ll be able to figure out those feelings Giyuu!” Mitsuri said, giving him a smile before following Tengen, leaving a confused Giyuu and his thoughts behind at the dango store.

Giyuu then glanced at you again, only to have his gaze met by yours, which startled him. You smiled before running towards Giyuu.

“Giyuu! Hello!”

“Oh... Hi.”

“I saw you talking with Mitsuri and Tengen! What were you guys talking about?”

“O-oh, nothing,” Giyuu gave you a small smile, trying to brush off his awkwardness. “What were you doing?”

“Oh, I was looking for a four leaf clover! There’s a wish I have, and I’m hoping that the four leaf clover brings me enough luck to make it come true.”

“Hm? What is it?”

“It’s a secret! Just kidding, I’ll tell you. I’m hoping for my next quest to go well.”

“You’re an excellent demon slayer though, Y/N, and you’ve never seemed so nervous about a quest? Did something happen?”

“Ah, there’s this gut feeling I have that...” You looked at the ground for a second before regaining your eye contact with Giyuu. “That something bad is going to happen. But it should be fine! It’s probably just a dumb thought!”

Although you just laughed it off like it was nothing, Giyuu couldn’t help but become worried. What if something bad really did happen to you? What if you ended up getting heavily injured? What if you even died?

“Giyuu, I’ve got to get going, unfortunately. I have to set off for my mission,” You gave him a small smile before turning around. “Goodbye!”

“Wait!” Giyuu’s hand suddenly latched onto one of your hands, startling you.

“Hm? Is there something wrong?” You ask him.

“I...”

“You...?”

“U-uh, I... I hope your mission goes well.”

You give him a warm smile before saying, “Thank you. I must get going now. Goodbye!”

He watched your figure disappear more and more into the distance. He couldn’t help but feel more and more anxious as you got farther and farther away. He now couldn’t shake the feeling that he too, feels like something bad is going to happen to you.

And something did happen.

“Y/N is dead, Giyuu.” Tanjiro said, showing up at the doorsteps of Giyuu’s mansion.

“Wh-what?”

“They’re dead...” He managed to choke out.

So it really was true. Giyuu had heard about it from his crow moments ago, but he refused to believe it. He thought it was some sort of mix-up, and that you weren’t truly dead.

“I’m s-so sorry,” Tanjiro choked out, tears falling from his eyes. “I wasn’t able to protect them. This is all my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself Tanjiro,” Giyuu patted Tanjiro’s back lightly. “Y/N wouldn’t have wanted you to.”

Tanjiro managed to look at Giyuu one more time, trying to give him a small smile before he left Giyuu’s mansion.

As soon as Tanjiro left, Giyuu immediately shut the door and broke down on the floor.

Why?

Why didn’t he tell you that he loved you that day?

Why was he such a coward?

Negative and regretful thoughts clouded Giyuu’s head as he continued to sob about your passing.

He never got to tell you how much he loved your smile, your hair, just everything about you. He would never be able to express his feelings for you because you were gone.

There wasn’t a single day after that where Giyuu didn’t regret not expressing his feelings for you. Every single day, he always wondered if anything would’ve been different if he had just told you his feelings for you, or if he had stopped you from going on that mission.

He even thought about that until his last breath.

Giyuu was sent on a mission to exterminate a group of demons, nothing that was supposed to be too hard for him. However, there wasn’t supposed to be an upper-rank moon there. He had tried to kill it, but it had overpowered him and sent him to his death.

As Giyuu laid on the ground with a large wound stretching from his chest to his stomach, his mind wandered back to those unsaid words.

“Please...” Giyuu whispered, his eyesight getting hazier and hazier with every passing second. “Please let me tell Y/N that I love them in my next life.”

And with that, Giyuu had taken his last breath.

Time skip... (After all the demons were slain)

Giyuu waddled out of the bakery happily with his freshly baked raisin bread. He had always loved the Kamado Bakery’s raisin bread, and always woke up at 6:30 on Saturdays to get the freshly baked ones.

Giyuu sat on a park bench and started munching on one of the loaves of raisin bread. He smiled to himself.

“Nothing beats the raisin bread at the Kamado bakery.” He said quietly, taking another bite of the bread.

“Actually, I’d personally have to disagree with that.”

Giyuu turned towards the side of him to find a figure leaning on a tree, observing Giyuu.

“Who even are you?”

“Oh, I’m Y/N! Sorry for interrupting your eating time! I just wanted to say that I think their yakisoba bread is better. I mean have you tried that stuff? It’s so freaki-”

At that moment, you and Giyuu both felt a painful throb in your heads, and memories came rushing back to you both. Memories of your past life as demon slayers.

“Giyuu?! Wait, you- you’re...” You paused for a second, before exclaiming. “You’re Tomioka Giyuu?!”

Giyuu didn’t say anything, he just simply pulled you in for a hug, not caring if he had dropped his raisin bread.

“I missed you so much Y/N...” Giyuu muttered, his head buried into your shoulder. “And I’m so sorry that I couldn’t tell you this earlier.”

“Tell me what earlier?”

“I’m so sorry that I couldn’t tell you that I loved you...” Giyuu drew his head back and looked you in the eye, giving you a small smile. “So I’ll tell you now. I’ve loved you ever since we both joined the corps together, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you I loved you that day. If I could go back to tell you, I would. But since I can’t, I’ll tell you now. This time, I won’t chicken out like last time. Y/N, I have always loved you, and I always will.”

#tomioka giyuu #giyuu #giyuu angst #tomioka giyuu angst #giyuu x reader #tomioka giyuu x reader #giyuu fluff #tomioka giyuu fluff #giyuu oneshot #Tomioka giyuu oneshot #kny #kimetsu no yaiba oneshot #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba angst #kimetsu no yaiba fluff #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer angst #demon slayer fluff #demon slayer oneshot #anime oneshot #anime #writing #anime writing

[red-writes]

a/n: I literally thought about this before falling asleep and I had the weirdest fucking dream ever it felt too real now I need to write this so-

cw: body description (of junpei), somno, Junpei is a peeping tom, slight angst, fingering.

Junpei to most people is so weird. He’s unusually skinny for a guy his age. His collar bones protrude unfashionably and peak at you from under his too big t-shirt. His waist is slender and fragile, hip bones poking against the material of his pants. His limbs are so slim, it looks as though he hasn’t but an ounce of muscle on him. He acts weird too. He doesn’t talk to anyone and always sures his hair covers that eye of his. Despite other people finding him weird or awkward, you found him cute. Befriending him was a task all in itself, it was hard to but even harder to maintain a friendship with him due to him always keeping people at arms length. The truth is, you wanted to know him better- get closer to him. What started out as small kindlings of feelings grew and grew into the now roaring fire you held inside your heart. The rare smiles you’d get from him, the way his eyes lit up whenever you complimented him— those small things accumulated overtime until you left with a huge mass of emotions that you had no clue what to do with.

Maybe except one thing.

He looked so surprised, so happy when you told him how you felt, when you handed him that beautifully decorated letter. His face was slowly turning a mean shade of red. What you were expecting to come though didn’t, seeing as he told you he couldn’t accept your feelings. You gave him a sorry half smile that caused a pain within his chest that almost made it hard to breathe. You turned on your heel and walked away, hands clutching the small letter to your chest.

Rejection hurt. Your mother always says “the worst thing that can happen is that they tell you no” but it seemed she was for once, wrong. The friendship you’d worked so hard to build and maintain crumbled in a single second, like a sandcastle hit with ferocious tides. He didn’t speak to you anymore— in fact he avoided you, purposely taking the long routes to class so he didn’t have to see you, eating lunch on top of the roof so he didn’t have to eat with you. Scratch that, rejection didn’t hurt it fucking stung like a bee except this time it was your heart having the allergic reaction.

The whole truth is, Junpei was in love with you. In an instant, if he could, he would drop everything for you to be his. Seeing as he was already yours, unequivocally yours. But he was sick. The first day you’d began talking to him was the start of his sick desires. It began with following you home, footsteps light and unnoticeable. He just wanted to make sure you were safe, that’s all. Then he started peeking into your window while you slept, he did this all night and passed out on the bus ride to school. Eyes drooping and heavy, bags that scream tiredness. But he couldn’t help it, he just wanted to make sure you were okay, nothing more.

Then it evolved into him breaking into your house. With your parents away for work and you all alone, he had to be the one to protect you, you were so innocent, too innocent and trusting of this evil world. He couldn’t find a rationale for stealing your used panties. Nor could he find a rationale for taking them home and sniffing and licking at the crotch part while he stroked his pathetic cock to your entrancing scent. Junpei realized long ago that he was in love with you, couldn’t you see he was just trying to protect you from himself? He too, was apart of the evil world, in fact he embodied it.

He’d come late one night, his mother holding him up at home before he could leave his house to go see you. When he got there and peered into your window, you were masturbating. A flush rose to his face and his cock jerked to life. This would be the first time he’s ever seen this before. He didn’t sneak in this time, instead opting to watch your fingers plunge in and out of your cunt whilst you whined, he snuck a hand down and began palming his already hard cock from over the fabric of his slacks. That’s when he heard it.

“Junpei!”

His name from your mouth. You were masturbating while thinking of him? He immediately pulled his hand away from his cock in fear that the thought alone would make him cum. He waited for you to fall asleep to finally make his entrance. His breathing was heavy and uneven when he stood in your doorway. He swallowed down some his excitement, he didn’t want to wake you. But today, he was at his limit, he couldn’t hold back his longing for you anymore. He stripped and laid his clothes gently on the back of your desk’s chair. He slid in bed with you and at the mere feeling of your bare skin pressing against his he shivered. His cock was already hard, if he’s honest, the smell of your room—the room filled with your scent, was enough to have him stiff as a rod.

He analyzed your features before doing anything. Your face was scrunched up in a look of sorrow with dried tear stains on your cheeks. He hadn’t known his lack of presence in your life made you so sad, it had a throb of pain shoot through his chest. He didn’t care, he deserved it. You were naked, exposed breasts rising and falling in time with your breathing, your thighs were still spread wide open and a hand was resting between them. Silly girl, didn’t you know you were supposed to clean up after doing something like this? He’s so excited he doesn’t know where to start first, his fingers lightly tread over your soft skin, running from your neck, down your arm until they reach the smoothness of your thigh. He wants to savor you, take his time but his cock is already beading pre-cum, it’s amazing what you do to him. He cups one of your breasts in his hand and your lips part slightly and he takes advantage of that by placing his lips over yours and he slides his tongue in your mouth. Even in your sleep you’re so needy for him your hips are subconsciously raising off the bed. How adorable, you’re so cute.

Junpei’s fingers pinch your nipple and tug on it which leaves you whining breathlessly into the soft kiss. Junpei finally pulls away after he thinks he’s going to suffocate from lack of oxygen, it wouldn’t be such a bad death if it’s by your hands but he did want to live a little longer to finish the task at hand. He slides his hand down the expanse of your tummy and gently nudges your hand out of the way until his fingers have complete access to your cunt. Junpei’s cock is grinding against your thigh, he’s so turned on and hasn’t even really done much to you yet. He spreads your cunts lips and uses a finger to gently rub up and down your slit. Your pussy feels so nice, it’s soft and mushy and still wet from your earlier activities. He could die happy now, if you were to wake up and hate him he’d be able to live with it—he finally got to feel your cunt with his own fingers.

His decides he wants to explore everything your body has to offer him, he doesn’t want to waste anything. His fingers stumble upon your clit. He curiously runs the raised bud back a forth a bit and your reactions are so perfect. Soft moans keep falling out of your mouth the more he plays with it. He can feel you becoming more and more wet under his ministrations. He takes a chance and slides a finger inside of your cunt. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your soft walls clamping down around his eager finger. Junpei’s breathing picks up and he slips in another finger, he slowly begins moving them in and out, mimicking the movements you did earlier. Your cunt feels heavenly around his fingers, your back is arching now, moans becoming louder as he grinds his cock against your soft body. He’s gonna cum soon.

He hasn’t even stuck his own cock inside of you and yet he’s already on the edge. It’s just your cute reactions are bringing him far closer than he’s ever been before. You’re so perfect like this, brows furrowed as you struggle around in your sleep. His fingers thrust upwards in an attempt to thrust them deeper inside of you. He rubs the pads of his fingers against a spongy spot that has your thighs shaking. He’s panting at this point, his hot breathes are hitting directly against your ear. He can feel your cunt spasm around your fingers and when he tries to pull them out you’re sucking them right back in. Oh god, you came didn’t you? He can’t help the way his hips stutter, his cock twitches as he shoots his cum over your lower half.

He withdraws his fingers from your cunt and he opens his mouth and sucks them clean. He sits up and begins climbing out of your bed. He feels so bad. The guilt is washing over him in waves, he knows he’s sick but that’s why he can’t be with you. His mind can’t help but flash back to the sad look on your face from before. It makes his heart hurt again and begins to get dressed. You sit up, voice still laced with sleep, “leaving already?”

Junpei’s body stiffens once he hears the sound of your voice.

“Junpei I..”

He merely shakes his head and hurries out of your room as quickly as possible, you try and follow him out but your legs feel so heavy you can hardly walk properly. You’re stumbling out of the room and into the doorway.

“Please! Wait- Junpei!” You call out but he’s already gone, leaving nothing but disappointment in his wake. You can feel the hotness of tears well up behind your eyes as you slump down against the wall, with your knees pulled up to your chest you can do nothing more but cry.

#boo writes 👻 #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk junpei #junpei yoshino #junpei x you #junpei x reader #junpei angst #junpei x reader smut #junpei smut #jjk smut #I mean I simp for him soooo #junpei yoshino smut #junpei x fem!reader #smut #I love junpei

[lilystyles]

needy needy needy.

written by @lilystyles

my masterlist for others & my main masterlist (harry styles!)

authors notes hi i'm back from the dead. maybe. we'll see. anyway, enjoy !! reblog and follow to see more horny peter content content.

brief description peter and y/n are enemies who just so happen to be hooking up. one night peter comes knocking on her door begging for her help.

warnings! smut (f!recieving, smut, cum, oversitumaltion, m!receiving, rough) around 3k words.

enemieswithbenefits!tasm!peter x enemy!fem!reader

Y/n didn’t know what time it was when she heard a knock on her door. She grumbled, yanking a t-shirt from her floor covering her naked body. She wandered down the hall from her room as she tried to hold onto the last of her slumber, but it was slowly slipping away from her, once she turned the lights on she was sure it was gone.

She was pissed off. It had taken her ages to fall asleep and now someone was banging on her apartment door.

When she opened it a dishevelled Peter Parker stood before her. His hair was messy, but still as always looked soft, his attire was a loose black long-sleeved shirt and grey tracksuit pants, his face looked as if he was in agony. He was supposed to be out doing superhero shit.

"Parker? What are you doing here?" She asked. Peter's face wrinkled in pain further when he noticed all she was wearing was a see-through white shirt. He could see her s/c skin and her nipples were hard peaking through her shirt. He wanted to devour her whole. His entire body was throbbing for her.

When she noticed his face growing into an even more agonised expression she frowned, confused. "What's wrong with you? Constipated again? Go use your own bathroom."

He didn't answer though, or reply to her cheeky comment, he simply walked inside shutting the door behind him. "You said you had the apartment to yourself, correct?" He asked coldly.

Y/n nodded sleepily. "Yeah, my parents are away. What's this got to do with you being here?"

"I need you. Now." Peter almost growled moving towards Y/n.

"Peter, you can't just come barging in at the ass-crack of dawn demanding a shag!" Said Y/n slightly pissed off that he thought he could just do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. But she would be lying if she said she hadn't touched herself a few hours earlier to the thought of Peter's rough hands on her skin. She had texted him earlier to come over but he said he was out stopping some bad guys. He had hated every second of it and all could imagine a needy Y/n waiting for him.

When he got home to find the meal his Aunt May had left for him he threw it to the side. He was only hungry for her.

His hands slid under her shirt touching just below her navel. "Y/n, tell me you don't want it and I'll go. But I know you do, just as bad as I do.”

He may have been an arrogant prick to her but he was right. Y/n slid her hands up onto his shoulders and pushed him off her. He was shocked and even more aroused at Y/n's glaring eyes.

She nodded, gesturing to the couch. Peter sat down and Y/n walked over slowly. "What do you want, Peter?" She asked slowly, falling to her knees. Her hands landed on either of his thighs.

He groans slowly as his pants begin to grow even further in size. "You know what I want Y/n. Don't make me beg." He whined, his head falling back against the couch. The column of his neck craning backwards. He was being so needy tonight.

Y/n's hands began to pull down his pants until he was completely bare. "Beg, Parker." She smirked.

His jaw clenched and he looked away. Embarrassed of what she was asking of him. He never begged for her, that would mean she’d win. But his dick was throbbing angrily and he couldn’t focus with her that close to his leaking tip.

So he gave in. "Please Y/n? C'mon I need it. Only you can help." He whined.

Her breath fanned down on him coldly, he shivered, "And what exactly do you need? Tell me." He was so stiff it hurt. Every part of him was throbbing, aching, for her touch. Only she could help, he’d tried using his own touch or watching porn but nothing made his eyes roll and toes curl like she did. No orgasm was as good as one manipulated by her touch. He hated her even more for that. Why did Y/n have to be so good in bed? He’d prefer pretty much anyone else.

"Blow me." He said casually, he even surprised himself at the change in tone. He went from whining and begging to almost easy-going. As if whatever Y/n decided to do wasn't going to faze him.

She slowly licked the tip of him, hearing his breath hitch. But as quickly as she touched him she stopped, leaving her hot breath to hit his sensitive self. "Beg Parker."

Peter opened his eyes and looked down at the sight in front of him. Y/n on her knees, either of her hands on his thighs, mouth agape staring at his swollen friend.

"I changed my mind, if you're just gonna tease me I’ll go." He said, starting to pull his boxers and tracksuit bottoms back up. Y/n looked slightly disappointed, she herself had just begun to grow aroused now. She stopped him and silently went to work. She could tell he was bluffing but did it anyway. Even though she hated him, she loved that pretty dick of his.

She licked the tip and slowly put him deep into her mouth. When her nose was tickled by that small trail of hair she gagged slightly. Peter groaned trying his best to keep his hands to his sides, and keep his hips from thrusting up into her mouth. His hands had begun to dig into the couch and Y/n couldn't help but smirk. She moved her hand from the bottom of his dick and balls and grabbed one of his hands placing it into her hair. As if telling him it was alright. They were usually quite rough anyway.

“Are you sure?" He asked and Y/n stopped her movements and looked into his eyes.

She licked her lips, taking in a breath. "Yeah, it's fine."

She moved back down and sucked the tip slowly going down deeper and deeper. Her hands moved where she couldn't reach, and Peter let out a straggled cry and Y/n knew he was getting close. His hands were holding her messy hair and he was lightly pushing her down. But he didn't need to push her too hard, she was already doing exactly what he needed, she knew him well enough now to make orgasm within seconds. They had been doing this little arrangement for about three weeks. Experimenting with things. They already fucked nearly everyday since the first time. Like rabbits.

"Holy shit Y/n," He said, accidentally bucking his hips into her mouth. She looked up with doe eyes at him and Peter almost came on the spot, but he tried to hold on for longer. Within another minute though, he had come.

She still continued sucking though, letting him ride it out. "Fucking hell." He said breathlessly letting his hands go from her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear that sticking to her face.

She came up and wiped the salvia from her reddened lips. "Feeling a bit better?" She teased. He’s hands slipped around her face, lifting her to him and planting a big kiss on her lips.

“Thank you.” He said. He said that every time she gave him head. It made her laugh.

Peter then slid his boxers and pants back up and stood up grabbing her, she wrapped her legs around his waist and moved her hands to his neck. His lips landed on hers and they kissed feverishly, his hands squeezed her ass and she tried to push them even closer together. As he moved down to kiss her neck Y/n let out a small moan. "My room."

He followed her instructions and they walked to her room in between kisses. Peter threw her down onto the bed and quickly joined her. She wrapped her arms around his back pushing him further into her. This wasn’t the first time they had been in this position in her room.

They hurriedly tried to remove each other's clothes. But Peter was only focused on getting Y/n out of hers. He pushed her further up the bed until her head was on her pillows. Peter slowly kissed down her neck and pulled off the t-shirt she was in. He threw it somewhere across the room but neither of them bothered to check.

Her bare skin was still visible even in the dark. His kisses began to travel down from her neck, and soon enough he was kissing the bone of her hip. Just when he moved to where she wished him to be, he teased her. Kissing along her inner thighs, they were clenching she was so aroused. He grabbed one of them, his large hand practically covering it, and he moved it to the side. Holding it down firmly.

Her dripping core stared him in the face. He looked up at her, she was blushing. His breath fanned onto her, and if possible she grew more aroused. The ache in her stomach had grown almost too much to bear. Slowly he leaned in, licked a strip along the lips. She groaned, her nails digging into her blanket. Itching to be in his fluffy brown locks.

He stopped to look up, her back had begun to arch and she was begging him to touch her. His hand moved close and slowly began to rub circles on the swollen bud. The nub was already sensitive from earlier, this caused her body to jerk up. "Fuck me." She whispered, knowing he’d feel all cocky now.

He smirked at that. It was like watching art be created when he fucked her. He finally leaned forward lapping his tongue on her opening slowly slipping into her arousal. His finger was still rubbing circles, and her legs were slowly finding their way onto his broad shoulders.

"Oh shit, Pete." She whimpered, shuddering as his speed grew faster. She only ever called him that when they were fucking. His tongue grew to a pause and he moved his hand from her clit down to her opening. He slid his middle finger in slowly until he was knuckle deep. Her velvety walls clenched onto him, and he nearly came himself at the sight. She was leaning on her elbows watching him move in and out of her. Throwing her head back every now and then when he hit that spot.

He leaned forward sucking on her clit, and swirling his tongue around it. "Taste so good, can't help it." He mumbled more to himself than her, sliding another finger in. Her hands fell into his hair, upon those words. He was really fucking good at that.

She was growing close to her orgasm. He could tell by the way she breathlessly writhing on the bed. "'Gonna c-" she couldn't even finish her sentence before letting out a moan close to a scream. "Fuck, Peter!" Her legs shook but he didn't slow his movements. Making her cum harder than ever. She had already made herself cum twice tonight. She was so sensitive.

He slowly pulled his fingers out and licked his lips. She shuddered, feeling empty. He then crawled up on top of her again putting his fingers out towards her mouth. She opened and he put them in. She sucked slowly. Still calming from her last orgasm.

They kissed, her taste remaining between their lips. She moved her hands from his hair down to his chest, slowly reaching the bottom of his shirt. He broke the kiss and lifted his arms up. She pulled it off. His muscles flexed as he pushed back down to kiss her. His hips pushing into hers. His friend was back, and it was pressing hard into her thigh.

"Take them off." Y/n whispered into his ear, nibbling on his ear lobe.

He moved his hands down to his boxers and tracksuit, pulling them off chucking them onto the floor. Her hips bucked up as she bit his lip during their kiss, and she felt him leaking precum already.

“Calm down, or I’ll come again.” He half-joked. She shook her head at him, with a smile. Moments like this were what Y/n liked the most. Because he made her forget everything and everyone else for a little while. Even though she hated him, something was starting to grow.

“I’ve got a condom, jus’ lemme-”

“No.”

He stopped reaching for his pants.

“I wanna feel you.”

His eyes widened, and he was surprised he didn’t come then and there from that whisper. With her hands on his cheeks, foreheads pressed together, sexes just touching. It was one of the most sensual things he had ever experienced.

“Are you sure?”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes.”

He slid into her slowly, letting out a deep groan. Their hips met, and Y/n lifted her arms around his back scratching him, as she adjusted to the pain of him first entering. No matter what she always needed a second. He was just too big. He waited until she started shifting against him, fucking herself on him, before he moved too.

“Mmm.” She whimpered when he began thrusting quickly. “Ah.”

Since both them had already cum they knew they wouldn’t last very long. Peter was kissing her neck and nipples gently as his hips began to roughly pound into her. When his lips finally met hers he was gentle and sensual against her. But his hips were acting in an entirely different way.

When he did one particularly deep thrust she cried out against his lips. Her mouth parted open. “Jesus.” Her voice was whiny and loud.

“Found it.” Peter whispered to himself happily. She couldn’t reply, her nails were just scratching his back roughly as she screamed out.

He aimed for that spot over and over until her entire body was shaking. He was beginning to shake too. His hand moved from her hip across to her puffy clit and began to rub quickly and messily as he groaned. Her eyes rolled back into her head, toes curling, hands clenching his biceps.

She was pretty silent until the overwhelming feeling of her orgasm snapped. She screamed so loud it echoed. “Peter.” She began to repeat over and over like a mantra. He didn’t stop, his fingers stayed rubbing circles as his thrusts grew a bit sloppy, still as deep as before.

She was surprised when he pulled out of her and crawled back to his face between her thighs. “I think you got one more in ya, Y/n.” He said gently kissing her puffy lips, licking some of her arousal off, he just loved the taste of her. Making her cum over and over, made him way more horny than it should.

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

He rubbed her shaking thighs. “I’ll stop if you want me too.” He meant it. He never wanted to push her too far.

She shook her head again. “No…I.. I can take it.”

He smiled, that big grin of his. His teeth on display. “Atta girl.”

Her hips squirmed all over the place as he began to slowly suck on her puffy clit again. He brought his big hands to pin her thighs down to either side of his face. The sound of his wet tongue and lips sucking against her filled the room.

Every single sound she had inside of her slipped out and her hands found his hair. She had lost any bit of restraint as she began to grind against his face. She was so sore and it hurt but she felt so good. He made her feel too good to stop.

“Pete!” She cried, feeling the orgasm coming. She clenched around nothing.

He slipped two fingers in. “I know. I know.” He said curling them slightly inside her. His mouth was sucking her again. Oh fuck. Her thighs began to clench against his face and she shook from the overstimulation.

“Fuck me! Oh my god!” She cried as her orgasm finally came. Her body went limp for a moment. Her breathing was heavy and he came back on top of her panting. His lips were red and he smiled gently.

Her cheeks were pink and her hair was a mess. “You okay?”

She nodded. “You’re really good at that.”

That made him proud. “Does that mean I can come inside you?”

She laughed, pulling him in for a long kiss, her legs still shaky wrapped around his hips. “Yes.”

He slipped in easily. Her arousal had made her less stiff and ready for him. She barely needed to adjust to his size now that she was on her fourth orgasm. He thrusted soft but deeply inside her. He was moaning really loudly now. She felt so warm and wet and good. Plus the fact she was letting him do it without a condom was turning him on way more than he thought.

“Shit, I don’t think I’m going to last. Not when you look at me like that.”

She didn’t realise she was doing anything. She was just staring up at him all blissed out with hooded eyes. She was so relaxed against him and every single movement left a sound escaping her swollen lips. She was completely gone, no restraint, no games, just raw and real. She looked beautiful.

“I think you’re gonna make me come again, Peter.” She said, pulling him closer. They were kissing and hugging close to each other as they felt themselves getting close to the edge. Peter was so loud she thought her neighbours might hear.

“You feel so fucking good. Y/n, too fucking good for me.” He said into her neck, his hips had begun to fasten. It felt so good. He didn’t mean to let that slip, but it was the truth.

Her legs pulled him closer. “Please Pete, I need it. Give it to me.” She moaned breathlessly into his hair.

He got his rhythm back up at that and got up from her neck a bit. He needed to see her face. He loved her orgasm face.

She was about to come, he could tell, he was too. He was surprised when she pulled him into a kiss. She was crying out against him as he whimpered at the feeling of her clenching against him over and over. She was so fucking close.

One final thrust and she came hard against his hips. She was shaking and crying out louder than he had ever heard her. Her eyes were glazed over in pleasure as they rolled back and that was enough to make him come as well. Hot spurts of his cum shot up inside her and he collapsed on top of her, completely spent. It was sticky and wet and perfect. Probably the best orgasm either of them had ever had.

She hugged him close to ground her shaking body, still breathing heavily. He had yet to slip out of her yet.

“Wow.” He said into her hair. When he finally pulled out she whimpered at the feeling. They both watched his cum drip out against her pussy’s parted lips.

Only then did Peter realise she had squirted on him. His torso was dripping wet. She touched his navel in absolute shock when she felt the wetness on her fingers. He was glistening.

“Did I- Was that- What?” She was so surprised. She did that? She had never done that before.

He laughed quietly. Swelling with utter pride. “I think you squirted.”

She blushed even further, her hands going over her face. “Sorry.” She didn’t even know she was capable of that. She felt embarrassed.

He ripped her hands away. “Y/n, that was like the hottest thing I have ever witnessed in my life.”

She shoved him. “Shut up.”

“I mean it. I’m going to try to get you to do that every time now. Fucking hell.” He flopped beside her.

She blushed. “Isn’t it gross?”

He turned to her, almost offended. “No. I made you fucking squirt. That’s amazing.”

“It probably helped that I had already come before you came over.”

He whipped his head around. So she had helped herself when he said he couldn’t. “How many times?” He knew she never just got herself off with one orgasm only. She needed more until she was satisfied.

“Twice.” She said..

“Jesus. No wonder you’re still shaking.”

She was still embarrassed.

He got up. “Let me get something to clean you up. I’ll be right back.”

She waited on the bed tiredly. Barely moving. When he came she was in a starfish position

He gently grabbed her thighs, spreading them wider and wiped her. She whimpered.

“Sorry.” He whispered gently. Rubbing her sore thighs. “You did so good for me. Taking everything.”

She felt her stomach flutter.

He flopped beside her and pulled her into his arms, wrapping the duvet over them. He was tired now, after his long night of fighting crime and then fucking you into a oblvion had his eyes shutting against his will.

Her back was pressed into his front and their legs intertwined. “Goodnight Spidey.” She whispered tiredly.

“Goodnight, Y/n/n.”

“Thank you.” She said.

He laughed. “Go to sleep.”

She fell asleep soon after and he did too. Neither moved from their position too tired and too satisfied to move.

One thing Peter knew for sure, he needed to do this to you more often.

#peter parker smut #tasm smut #peter parker x you #spiderman x reader #peter parker angst #the amazing spider man 2 #smut #overstimulation #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman one shot #mcu spiderman #marvel

[marshmallowprotection]

Gladiolus.

Description: Jihyun Kim knew what he had to do to protect both Saeran and Saeyoung, but what happens when he realizes that he needs to help himself and change the course of his life to accomplish it? Will he have the strength to be the Dad that he needs to be for them in the face of his mistakes and victories?

Photographer Saeran AU

Word Count: 10500

Based on this idea and thanks to @dailysaeran​ for drawing baby Saeran!

[Read on AO3]

Jihyun had heard that the winds of change could come into your life and dismantle everything that you thought would last forever. Life wasn’t always a constant stream where the water would twist and turn around the rocks the same way. The weather would change, the temperature would change, the currents would change, and even the animals that lived in the water would change as the seasons passed. 

It had been something that he had gone through twice before, but this change wasn’t one that he ever expected to come. It had been a realization that had been a long time coming, but he hadn’t allowed himself to see just how much he needed to stop and reflect on the man that he became as his life shifted to much more mature adulthood. 

The first time things changed, he lost his dear mother and it changed the way that he believed in love. Her adoration and commitment to him had made him believe that he needed to care for the people he loved no matter what, without fail, even if it meant that he would sacrifice himself. In hindsight, now he was able to see how this extreme wasn’t the right way to handle his feelings towards others. 

His mother had always loved him and wanted the best for him. But, at that time,  he had been a stubborn young man who had layered issues with his mother. It wasn’t her fault that his father had taught him to feel complicated about his mother, and it certainly wasn’t her fault that V had come to realize too late that his father had manipulated him to believe in his lies. He had been so afraid as a child of his father seeing his true passion. 

His fears and insecurities forced him into pushing his mother away over and over again, but she kept believing in him and pushing for him to find his dream. Her sacrifice for him during the fire that claimed her life had been what changed Jihyun forever. He thought that to love someone, he had to give everything for the rest of his life, even if that meant trying to help someone by being too pushy. 

His mistake here had nearly cost him everything. 

It had almost destroyed him, in the same way, that his mother had been destroyed by her love and compassion for her son whom she loved dearly. He had learned the wrong lesson and it was only recently that he was able to understand that. 

The second time things changed, he had met Rika, and by extension, he would eventually come into contact with Saeyoung. His love life with Rika had always been intense, blinding as the sun as the two of them tangled their broken hearts looking for a savior to believe in. But, their love wasn’t right for one another at the end of the day, and the more they argued the less idyllic their reality became. 

He wanted to help Rika escape from her nightmares and trauma, but he had no idea how to help her in the way that she needed him to. He thought that allowing her to fixate on her darkest and scariest thoughts by subjecting him to them instead of herself, would help her to break free of the chain. She was a star that was on the brink of exploding when he met her, and every single day, he idealized this and found a muse within it. 

It hadn’t been a healthy relationship once their feelings became tangled with the fruits of poison but as that realization grew to a fever pitch, V couldn’t ignore the cycle that had been created. Even if they ignored it and tried to make things work, it was never going to work and they were needless in the way that they continued to subject themselves to something that would never make them feel the love that they deserved. 

Everyone thought that their love was perfect, but it was far from the truth. This was realized just as they began to help the twins. Saeyoung and Saeran Choi were two young boys who had been living in hell their entire lives, and they were trapped in a cycle of abuse that they could not get out of on their own. Rika had been taking care of Saeyoung for a while, gaining his trust through the church and trying to help him bring more food and clothes home to his sickly twin. 

She’d known him for quite some time before Jihyun met him. But, Rika had been upfront with him about the life that this young boy lived, and it didn’t take much consideration for him to so badly want to help. Saeyoung was willing to do anything, try something, or beg if it meant that his brother could be safe and sound away from harm. Their mother was using them to blackmail their father into getting whatever she wanted, and without them, she wouldn’t be able to assert that control. 

Rika, at first, wanted to simply remove the boys in the dead of night and run. V thought that wasn’t a bad idea, but when Saeyoung admitted the identity of his father, they both knew in their hearts that running wasn’t going to be a viable option. 

It was in their hunt to find a way to get the older twin an escape that V met someone from the agency. A fan of his that loved to buy up so many of his photographs happened to be working for an underground facility that took any intelligent young people under their wings. The man spun it to him like being an escape from reality, an action movie suddenly came to life that would give the budding Choi a place to learn how to use his skills to protect himself. 

As Saeyoung had proven to be quite skillful with programming, the books that he had been studying that had been given to him by Rika had come in handy. He was able to prove that his skill was worth the trouble it would take to train him properly to the man, and Jihyun was able to make a deal through that, giving Saeyoung safety within the confines of secret protection where his hacking skills could eventually help him hide everything about himself and his brother. 

For the time being, Saeyoung would have to let go of his twin to go into the agency to study and become what they wanted him to be. There was no telling how long he would owe the agency his life and skill, it could’ve been years or it could’ve lasted his entire life. But, the deal would give him time to figure out how to become the strongest person that he could be. It would allow him to protect his brother, which is all he wanted.

In making this deal with the agency, he made a second deal with V for it. Saeyoung was a very firm negotiator when he wanted to be. The promise was that as long as Saeyoung was in the care of the agency, V and/or Rika would have to care for his brother and keep him hidden. It was this large promise to make that meant that everything in their lives would change, but V took this deal because he knew it was the right thing to do. He wanted nothing more than to protect those boys with his entire heart. 

He had never been this committed to the idea of protecting children before, but he supposed that he saw his pain in their eyes. He never wanted to see another child hurt from whatever they lived through, no matter how deep the pain buried itself into their bodies. This deal was made and the older twin had to leave without warning. His heart ached to know that he couldn’t tell his twin where he was going. 

People in the agency weren’t allowed to have connections with family or loved ones. If they did, people would use them as collateral and the agency couldn’t have their members breaking down every time someone wound up kidnapped or used a prop. Saeyoung couldn’t stomach the idea of knowing that his brother would get hurt when this was to protect him, so when the day came and he had to leave? 

He hugged his brother tightly as he was still resting and apologized, leaving during the time before the sun rose with just the clothes on his back. Saeran would be okay, but he had to break his heart into pieces to do it. His little brother was everything to him and just knowing that he could taste some kind of freedom was all he needed to choose to leave. Saeyoung had tears in his eyes that day, but he never stopped smiling. 

Those words that Saeyoung spoke still haunted him somewhat, as the undaunted expression in his eyes grew; “Saeran will have a good life. I know he will. He’ll be free to look at the grounds and get any kind of ice cream that he wants after dinner from now on. He’ll get to experience all kinds of firsts… he can read, draw, and try all kinds of things with you, V. He’ll make friends, he’ll fall in love, he’ll have everything that he could ever want. Thank you.” 

That hung heavy on V’s shoulders as it was a tall order to fulfill. But, he took that promise and he kept it deeply interwoven inside of his heart. Even as his and Rika’s relationship came to an end in a matter of seconds. Rika realized after just a short time being around Saeran that his pain was too great compared to her own, and it reminded her too much of her mother and the pain that she had suffered. 

She wanted to protect Saeran, but this realization had given her the ugly truth. She couldn’t give him the love that he needed alongside V… because her heart was still wounded, and she wanted to heal herself in the right way before she tried to help someone in need in the way that he truly needed. His pain was like her own, and in seeing that, she knew that she needed to end things with V to be able to help herself. 

As they had been growing apart over some time, V understood why she chose to do this and he knew that it was coming no matter what happened. They had never been perfect for each other and trying to force themselves to stay together to take care of Saeran simply wasn’t going to help that child in need. 

Rika dedicated herself back to going to therapy consistently and decided to put all her energy into creating the RFA so she could help Saeran and other children like him that way, removed from the situation but still close enough to provide help.

She loved V but their love couldn’t ever be more than what it had always been, mere infatuation and trying to cover their wounds with a meager bandaid that couldn’t heal the problem. He cared for her greatly but at the end of the day, love could not bloom and prosper in a garden without a drop of water in the intense heat of the sun. 

V understood his failing in their relationship as well, and through her insistence, as well as the urging of Jumin, he decided that he needed to get help for himself as well. Even if getting help was such a taboo in his culture, he knew that he needed it. He knew that his heart was wounded and to be a better man, he had to acknowledge what he had gone through. After all, if he was to be Saeran’s father, he wanted to be worthy of the title. 

He wanted to be able to prove to not only himself but everyone around him that he could do the right thing. It wasn’t easy for him to face his demons but it was a process that he wanted to start for his heath. While that started and he and Rika separated, he slowly took the time to lure Saeran away from his mother’s grasp day by day. It started with Rika convincing the woman to let him come to the cathedral every so often. 

But, in due time, the longer that Saeran was gone, the less time that his mother was aware of her surroundings and the people around herself. 

She had been drinking often since Saeyoung had left and it left her out of her mind for lengthy periods. When she was too dazed to even process what her name was, much less where her child was, that’s when V and Rika snuck in during the dead of night when she was passed out and there was no sign of any watchful eyes from Saejoong Choi. 

Saeran was removed from her household and brought to V’s house in the secluded mountains, far from the city but just close enough that they wouldn’t have a lengthy drive if push came to shove and they needed something. 

That woman was left in her despair but her fate hung in the balance the minute that she was left alone. They took extreme measures to make it look like the boys hadn’t even lived there in the first place, but whatever Saejoong Choi decided to do with that woman… it would be the price of her sins to face alone now that she no longer could use the boys as puppets. Neither V nor Rika would look back or try to discern her true fate. 

It would be up to fate in that case and they would shield Saeran from that reality as much as they could. He might have cared for the idea of his mother as he craved a family where he was wanted and loved, but she wasn’t someone who truly loved her sons. They couldn’t be properly called her sons because she never treated them the way a mother should treat their child. She simply did not deserve that title. 

Regardless, with Saeran under his care, he was finally able to wake up one morning and know that he had a bed that couldn’t be taken away from him. He’d been given his bedroom with anything that he could desire. Saeyoung had told them about some of the things that he liked and it helped them figure out what to gift him to make him feel more at home. 

It was a lot for Saeran all at once, though. 

His eyes flooded with tears that day as he realized that he had a bed for the first time in his life. He looked back at V and asked him, “Is that mine?” The twins had slept on a mat on the floor with only a single blanket to share between them. Saeran often wound up wearing the blanket after he fell asleep because Saeyoung would refuse to take it. So, a bed was like the biggest gift this child had ever seen. 

Saeran’s eyes flooded with tears as he hugged V without thinking, looking at him with the most joyful expression in his eyes. V felt his heart jump when he did, and a lump grew in his throat as he ruffled the boy’s hair and smiled in return. This was what Saeyoung wanted, his twin to be able to have the very thing that they had been denied from their birth, a home with a family that would protect him.

He had been barely fourteen years old, but the way his donated clothes clung to his body and how short he was, he could’ve passed easily as a ten-year-old, at best. He was small and barely able to hold himself up most days but that had been a happy moment for him. Saeran had only let go of V to race to the bed, flopping onto the soft mattress and rolling onto his back, laughing and giggling with glee. 

His room was a paradise of pinks and blues, very gentle pastels that would cloak him with the sunshine that he had been denied. His room had a large window that he could open if he wanted to see the sky or feel the fresh breeze on his face once again. 

There was a view of the garden in the back and the massive trees that lead into the forest further behind that. He could see all of the things that he never could have locked away in his mother’s house.

There were plushies and toys carefully tucked into the room as well since Saeyoung had been firmly adamant that his twin loved to color and all the picture books that he had received made him long for toys and soft things to hold onto. 

There was one gift in that room that hadn’t been chosen by V… and it was a ginger tabby cat plushie, something that Saeyoung picked out for him after he snuck out to go shopping with V one day. 

If Saeran were to flip the tag around its neck, he would see his brother’s handwriting on the back plain as day. It didn’t say his brother’s name on it but it did say, “For Saeran,” and that would be the only clue his twin needed to understand that it was a gift from Saeyoung. He would discover it when V left him to acclimate to his new room by himself, eyes laced with happy tears as he’d realize his twin had given him a gift. 

It meant that his brother was alive and this was where he wanted him to be.

Saeran was hopeful after that, his eyes sparkling with relief and joy. V couldn’t tell him where his twin was or anything about him, but the gift was enough. It was a gesture that would be able to tide him over and keep his heart happy, knowing that he hadn’t been abandoned and his twin hadn’t been killed by their father. 

It was a simple gesture but it was the only thing that he could think of to bypass the agency before they even knew it was a problem. 

Of course, this opened up another can of worms that V had to deal with. The fact of the matter was, Saeran couldn’t keep his red hair. Even if he was hidden away from the rest of the world and safe with him, they couldn’t trust that his father wasn’t still looking. He would be hunting around for boys with red hair and golden eyes. 

V had to explain this to Saeran, who felt a little dejected about not being able to keep his hair but after he learned why he had to change it, he was okay with it. After all, he knew that he could be able to dye it back someday if he wanted. But, for the time being, he had to dye his hair to look like V’s did. This was for a very good reason and it worked with the backstory that he was going to tell people if they asked about him having a child. 

Through the false documentation that he was able to create thanks to the channel he had created with his informants, he was able to create an entire fabricated life for Saeran. It took a lot of time to look into his mother’s side, but he was able to make it seem as though Saeran was just a very distant cousin of his from the states that had no other family to turn to. It meant he wouldn’t be in the family registry since it was distant. 

It was close enough that a doctored birth certificate and some basic paperwork could give him a new identity overall. It took a lot of money to make it as perfect and legal as possible, but it was well worth the price he paid. To the South Korean government as far as they were concerned in the matter, Saeran would simply be known as Ray Kim, the adopted child of Jihyun Kim. It was as simple as that. 

Saeran had been adamant about the name since he got to pick what people would call him. He thought about it for a while until he stumbled upon an interesting idiom. He noticed that nice people were called a Ray of Sunshine. Saeran felt connected with that idea, he wanted so badly to be happy enough that people would never think he was lonely and pathetic. 

He wanted to be that person that looked so happy they glowed. 

If Saeyoung was watching over him now, he wanted his brother to know that he was happy. So, his new name should’ve been happy. V agreed and let him pick that name since he was giving up a lot to be able to have this freedom in the first place. He was a child that had been saved but he still had limitations on what he could do. Being able to choose his name was one of the small luxuries. 

Of course, as soon as the paperwork was ready, V had to dye his hair himself. It took a while to lighten his red locks to a color that would accept the mint dye, but Saeran was a good sport for the entire time that he had to sit there at the table, letting V do his hair in layers as everything started to process. It took a few hours but by the end of it, Saeran’s red was washed away and replaced with a color that was no different than V’s. 

The child looked into the mirror once his hair had dried out, blinking a few times at his reflection since he didn’t recognize it at first. His golden eyes stared back at him so he knew that it was his face in the mirror but it felt weird not to see his twin’s face reflected with his own. It wasn’t the same as it used to be, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t okay. 

It was okay. 

He knew it would be okay. 

In a quiet voice, he asked, “Do you think Saeyoung would be upset because I don’t look like him anymore?” 

“Saeyoung would be happy that you’re safe here,” V said. He rested his hand against Saeran’s shoulder and they looked back at their reflections together this time. “You’ll always look like your brother, even if you don’t have the same hair color. Nobody can ever take that connection away from you, Saeran. Never forget that.” 

“Okay.” 

“Do you want to try on the contacts, too? You don’t have to use them when we’re at home, but if we leave the house for something together, I’ll need you to wear them, okay? So, it’d be nice to try to practice getting them off and on your eyes.” 

“Are they this color, too?”

“I picked a few different colors out, Saeran. What would you like to try?” 

“Um, what about green? It’s like the grass!” 

“We can try that.” 

  —

  Saeran adjusted as best he could.

Everything changed so much for him after he finally felt secure. He had room to sleep in, he had a house that could leave whenever he wanted, and he had a new member of his family who liked to listen to him talk for hours about all of the new things that he was doing. V even said that once he felt like he was ready, he could start going to school and hang out with kids his age. 

That was a little scary for Saeran to think about. He wasn’t sure about going out in the open with people… he was still scared of being caught by his father and getting his brother into trouble. It was a sad reality that he faced but the decision was ultimately left in his hands if he wanted to go to school with other kids or he simply wanted V to hire him a proper tutor to come and visit the house every week. 

Saeran was curious about school… about kids his age. Back at the cathedral, he didn’t talk much to the other kids because he had felt too shy to approach them. He had spoken to some of the kids a few times during the playtime that they had whilst the parents were in the middle of their mass, but he always got too anxious to talk to them beyond a few quiet “hello”s. 

It was hard to imagine making friends. 

It was hard to imagine going to school, too. 

But, everything he saw on the television made it seem like it might be fun. What if Saeyoung was going to a school? Would he want him to go, too? He wasn’t so sure about it, but he could think about it and try to guess what it would be like. After all, V went to a school when he’d been a kid, so that meant that it was safe, right? 

Saeran was a gentle soul that liked to learn how to do everything… every meal was spent trying to show him how to do something. Cleaning up meant that he wanted to help V every step of the way, and for the time that he wasn’t trying to learn skills, he could be found outside in the garden that was growing stronger outside. The flowers and vegetables had caught his eye, again. 

He spent a lot of time learning about them at the cathedral but he didn’t have long to study the picture book that V got him when he was stuck with his mother. He liked learning about how they drew and what they meant when you shared them with other people. Saeran thought it was interesting that people could share secrets between petals and stems. 

They were all so pretty and he liked talking to them whenever he could. They were like his friends even if they couldn’t talk back to him. He never had someone who listened so much before so he liked that about them. His flowers were everything to him, and he felt like they could be what he needed to get by instead of school! 

Even if he was curious about what it felt like to have friends that could talk back to him. His flowers were good enough, right? 

V told him that flowers grow better when you talk to them, and he took that belief inside of his heart without question. Even though there was so much that he wanted to share with the flowers, he always ran out of time when the sunset. If he could’ve spent all his time in that little garden, he would have. Though, he was always sad on rainy days when couldn’t go outside and see his friends. 

He would curl up on the couch with his plushie and stare up at the ceiling for a while, letting his mind wander with thoughts that seemed endless. He was lonely, now, even if he had a family of flowers and V with him. Maybe V was right, he wondered, maybe it would be nice to have some friends that he could talk to just as much as he loved talking to his flower friends. What if he was allowed to have both? 

After a particularly stormy day and night that hadn’t let him go outside, Saeran practically leaped at the chance to go outside again. He didn’t even think to ask if V was going to come with him, his little legs just carried him through the house and out the backdoor as fast as they could. He found his way around the puddles and beamed, leaning over with his hands on his knees to inspect his friends. 

They looked like they had gotten a lot of water overnight but after how dry it had been, he wasn’t too scared for them. He just wished that he had a chance to see them even when it was raining badly. His flower friends made his day feel a little bit brighter so seeing them made them was always a good feeling he had. He just didn’t know how to see them if it was raining so much all the time!

That’s when Jihyun appeared beside him, crouching down in the dirt next to Saeran with his camera in hand. Saeran cocked his head and looked at him, unsure why he had come to this part of their garden right away. He lifted the viewfinder to his face and pointed it at one of the flowers that he had been admiring, then he lowered the device and showed the image to Saeran. 

With curious and amazing eyes, Saeran found himself staring at a reflection of the flower. He’d known that V took photos of things that were kind of like what he saw on the walls of their little house but those were all of the sky and stars. There weren’t photos of flowers in the house, there were a few paintings, but no flower pictures. 

He didn’t realize that pictures could be taken of things that were on Earth. Technology was still kind of a fickle thing for Saeran. He had a hard time understanding how things worked, trying to figure out how televisions made their picture happen, how phones could call people if they didn’t have a connection with a string, how cameras worked, how lights functioned to off and on, how a sink made water, and more. 

The house that he lived in with his brother didn’t have a lot of things. The kitchen they had was small and he wasn’t allowed in it. His brother would have to get him food and water, and if he’d ever walked into the kitchen without his mother dragging him in there, he would get hurt in the process. He never looked around. He always looked at his feet. 

It felt like he didn’t know how anything worked. He always tried to guess how they worked, but the only answer that he could come up with was magic. It made sense in the storybook that he’d read once. Magic seemed like a really good answer, but he couldn’t ever find the fairy or witch that was making it work! 

What made V’s camera work? 

He was utterly mystified by what he was seeing on the device. He liked the photos that V took of the sky but… he never thought that this was something he could do. V always had a lot of big cameras that he would take outside during the day and night to take longer photos. He said something about exposure, but Ray didn’t know what he meant. 

He just knew that whatever magic he did made those really pretty photos of the fluffy clouds come into their living room. V had hung the photo that Saeran liked the most in his room after he asked if he could look at the photo for a while. He thought that asking meant that V would let him look at his screen for a while, but he printed the photo out and put it up when he was asleep. It was a nice surprise! 

He spoke up without knowing what he said aloud, “You… you can take pictures of flowers, too? I thought your camera only worked the sky.” 

A small smile appeared on V’s face. He paused as if an idea came to mind, and then he leaned over and pressed the camera into Saeran’s hands. Saeran was surprised and looked down at the device in his hands. He didn’t know what to do with it. He was nervous he might drop it if V let him hold it, so he tried to hand it back, but V insisted with another gentle nudge towards him to keep it. 

“Lift the camera and look at the screen,” V tapped his finger against the top of the camera where he was staring. “Notice how it shows you what you already see in the garden? 

Saeran did as he said, and he noticed the world moved much as it did on television on that small screen. Oh, so, did the cameras that took pictures to take the videos, too? That seemed to make sense to him. He could see the Gladiolus reflected on the monitor. There were a lot of buttons that did things but he didn’t know what they did. 

Saeran pursed his lips and looked back at V, “How do you make it work like that? I mean, how do you take the picture?” 

“I’d be happy to show you. Can I?” 

“Uh-huh.” 

So, V adjusted Saeran’s hold on the camera. He helped him place one firm hand on the lens and another on the side of the camera. Then, he showed him how to focus the lens and how to clear up the picture. Saeran felt a little weird about it since this was his first time holding a camera but V was patient as his uncertainty slowly washed away. 

He looked at the flower outside of the lens at first, then he looked at the screen again. Saeran thought about it. Would the picture look the same as the real thing? Would someone who saw the photo know exactly what Saeran felt when he was looking at the flower? Or, would they guess as to what he felt? Would they feel that fluttering feeling, too?

“When you want to take a photo, you hit the button. Go ahead, give it a try.” 

Saeran hit the switch on the side of the camera and waited a few seconds for the image to show itself on the screen. A wide smile appeared on his face as soon as it did. He couldn’t believe it! He’d taken a photo and it looked just like his flower! Lowering the camera soon, he looked at V who was smiling, too. 

He wished that he could show Saeyoung! He never took a photo before and this one reminded him of his brother so much! He was happy, so happy that he had been able to try something new, that he didn’t even realize that he had begun to giggle, “I did it! Dad, I did it! I took the photo!” 

“You did a good job, Saeran. Would you like to keep trying?” 

V ruffled his hair once again, the mint locks growing messy around his eyes as it would always do whenever the man did that. The breeze was no different, further messing up his hair but he’d decided he didn’t care about that. His hair could be as messy as he wanted and nobody would get onto him for it. 

Saeran’s smile didn’t fade away this time. The prospect that he was allowed to try something more than just once was still a foreign feeling, but it was one that he wasn’t afraid of. “Do you mean it? I can take more photos? I don’t have to just take one of them? I can take anything I want?” 

“Of course, Saeran. I’d be happy to show you how to take pictures of anything you want. There is no limit to what you can take. Those flowers, those trees, the lake just beyond them, the sky, the clouds, you, me, anything you want! I remember you said that you wanted to be able to see your flowers even when it was rainy… and this way you can. You can take pictures of as many flowers as you want.” 

Saeran’s eyes sparkled with excitement. He turned away from V and began to look around the garden for anything that might catch his eye. He didn’t know where to start. He never expected to be able to do something like this! What kind of pictures would he like to see? Oh, could he take photos like V and surprise him the way that he did? 

There were so many ideas running through him and he knew that he wanted to try all of them as soon as he could. 

He was renewed with the idea that maybe, just maybe he would be able to send these photos to his brother somehow. Wouldn’t Saeyoung love to see them? He gripped the device tightly in his hands and set off into the garden leaving V as he went to take photos of everything. His eyes looking at the earth and the sky, taking photos of everything without feeling like he was being held down. 

If he could have photos with him whenever he went off what he loved, he wouldn’t be afraid to try new things anymore. It wouldn’t be scary because he wouldn’t be alone. He could have the stars, the sun, the clouds, the sky, the flowers, his house, V, himself, and anything else that he could think of with him anywhere. 

If it was printed or on this camera, he could have it any time he wanted it without having to make a fuss. He wouldn’t have to ask V if he could go outside first, he could sit at the table and see his things while he tried to do other things inside! The idea made him happy and the camera that was in his hand made him feel liberated. 

Saeran wondered as if V would let him borrow his camera all the time!

   —

 Seasons passed and life changed just as quickly as the tides could crash against the shore of your favorite beach. It had been a few years since V had adopted Ray and ever since then, his life had been on a path that was leading him upward to the stars instead of down below to where waters lay underneath his feet. 

Ray had been able to go to school and attend the same one that his dad had attended without trouble, and nobody once ever questioned him or thought twice about who he was. They all thought him to be Ray Kim, and nobody had any reason to think that he wasn’t who he said he was. They all assumed that he was who he said he was from the start and that had cleared up a lot of Ray’s fears. 

It couldn’t have worked out any better. Ray had been scared to try new things for such a long time but the reality was when V gave him his first camera… It was like a whole new world of opportunity was handed to him. V spent hours showing Ray how to use his camera and he was a faster learner, constantly taking notes and tinkering with ideas that he had just as quickly as he read on what to do.

The camera meant so much to Ray that V decided to give it to him. He had the money to afford a new one, anyway, so he wasn’t too worried about that. It meant more to him that Ray had this thing that made him happy. He loved taking pictures a lot. It reminded V of when he used to use all of his time as a child drawing and painting, and when he saw that passion in Ray’s eyes that he had once seen in himself? 

He realized what his mother had meant all those years ago. 

She hadn’t been trying to pry into his life or make him do something she wanted. She wanted him to follow his heart. Through therapy, he was able to focus on learning that fact. 

He wanted to show his mother that he could do what she did, or at least, what she tried to do. He wanted to support Ray’s dream to be an artist, to be a photographer, too. 

Ray’s photos were… breathtaking and he only got better with time and practice. His skill was astounding, he was capable of tricks and feats that had taken V years to figure out on his own so it meant everything to know that giving Ray a camera had been the right thing to do. Even as he got older and studied hard, he never let go of his passion with his camera. 

When he wasn’t doing his homework, or spending time with his gardening club, he was taking photos. 

His skills were well-admired. 

V knew that Ray had potential and he wanted to help him chase that dream even further, but he also knew that Ray’s face couldn’t be shown as the artist for now. It didn’t mean that he wasn’t worthy of a gallery with his name on it but he deserved something to prove how much his hard work meant. 

He was stubborn, polite, hard-working, and determined to pay people back for kindness. He never asked V very much if he could help it. Even Jumin had commented that his son was rather selfless time and time again, jesting that he had been spending too much time with his father. 

All and all, Ray had grown into an upstanding young man who had a bright future ahead of him, even if he couldn’t have everything. He had a family and friends that cared about him, and he was so very far from the little frightened boy that he had once been. Nobody would have ever believed that the boy with mint curls was once a redhead who lived in fear, clutching to his twin like he was a lifeline.

The RFA had prospered as well, though Ray wasn’t a member of the group. 

He was anxious around big parties and crowds so it was better for him to avoid that. But, he still spoke to the members that were in the group that his Dad belonged to. He liked talking to Jumin, as it turned out, they had a lot in common. Ray was polite and formal when he spoke, and Jumin’d been like that all his life. So, they hit it off great. 

There had been some trips V and Jumin took, bringing Ray along with them to the countryside since he couldn’t leave Korea for his safety. Ray often spent those days staring at everything he could find and asking Jumin about the history or background of the places they traveled. He loved to learn and listen, and Jumin loved to share that with someone. It humbled V to see his friend and son get along. 

Jaehee was courteous to Ray as he often was with her, though, he was the first person to ask Jumin to make fewer cat projects to quote, “not stress Miss Jaehee out.” Ray liked to talk to her because she’d always listen to whatever he was invested in. He would, in turn, listen to her talk about Zen for a while. Their friendship was built on having someone close by who knew what it felt like to want to be heard. 

Speaking of Zen, the actor spent a lot of time looking out for Ray… somehow even more so than Yoosung. It might have been because Ray was awfully small for his height and if someone tried to fight him, he’d probably lose before they breathed on him. Zen was always trying to give him advice about the world and Ray took it, but everyone would correct the advice if it turned into his dating advice.

Yoosung was the closest in age to him but they didn’t have a lot in common. They would share notes and study guides often if they shared a subject in school, even though they were going to the same school, but they talked now and again about other things. They surprisingly shared a lot of recipes together and would work to make them if the RFA was in the same place for an extended period. 

Rika was around, of course, and Ray didn’t mind her too much. They didn’t talk often but she always checked in on him whenever she got the chance. Her dedication to herself had done a lot of wonders for her, but she still struggled with the fear that she might hurt Ray without meaning to so she kept to a polite distance from him apart from this or that. 

V himself was trying his best to be a good father. He made mistakes now and again, but he was doing his best to be there for Ray when he needed someone. Ray had even started calling Dad a long time ago without thinking twice. It was an honor to be given that name, and he would be a liar if he said he didn’t cry that night after Ray went to bed. They spent a long time trying to be sure that bond was tried and true.

Ray had the life that his brother always wanted for him… with one exception to the very rule, he wasn’t in it. Saeyoung wasn’t in his life. He was trapped within the agency and the promise that he had made, but he still thought to this day that his promise was worth it. V couldn’t ever tell him anything about Ray the few fleeting times they got to talk about things on the phone, but he did know that the “cat” was doing better than ever. 

Life was different. 

But, at the same time, life was better than it had ever been. 

However, as he thought about how sad it was that the boys couldn’t see each other, the gears in his brain began to churn. He wanted the boys to have a chance for something, but to give them a chance, he would have to be careful about what he did. As he looked out the window of his kitchen to the backyard, he saw Ray taking photos again, laying in the glass as he stared at the sky once again. 

Could he give Ray and Saeyoung a gift at the same time? 

V would have to think deeply about this. 

 —

 Seven had received a simple invitation in the mail that wasn’t labeled and wasn’t decorated. It was a mint-colored letter that told him who it was from but wouldn’t reveal to Vanderwood, his handler, that it was a message from someone that he cared about. He had to wait a few days to open it because he had just moved into his new house and Vanderwood had to help him set up a lot of things. 

When he opened the letter, he’d been surprised to see that it was a decorated invitation to visit V’s upcoming art exhibition. He was supposedly showing off new works that he had done as well as the works of his new assistant that had just joined him. That didn’t strike him as odd at first, but what did stand out was the message that V penned at the bottom of the letter.

There was just one sentence. 

The cat will be there on display. — V

Seven was able to put two and two together. He realized that V was implying that his twin was going to be showing off art for the first time, underneath a pseudonym, of course, but he didn’t once think that his brother would be able to do something like that. He had no idea of the life his twin was living, what he did, what he loved, who he was now, or what it meant to be a part of his life the way that V was. 

That was just it… he wasn’t apart of Saeran’s life. He was just his brother that had to leave him, and that was it. He hadn’t seen him in years and a part of him wanted badly to know how he was doing and what he was doing with his life, and this alone should’ve been enough to make him be sure that Saeran was safe and happy. 

But, his stomach twisted in knots as he realized that he wanted to go. He wanted to go there and see Saeran in person if he could. It wasn’t a good idea, it was a dangerous idea, but the more he thought about his brother, the more he felt like he needed to see him. He didn’t want to risk any part of Saeran’s new life. 

He didn’t want to be the wrench that destroyed everything that Saeran had, because if V was able to do these kinds of things for him, then that meant he was happy. It meant that he had nice ways of living now, and that he had anything he could ever want. It seemed good to know that much, at the very least. He stared at that invitation for the longest time. 

He didn’t know what to do with himself because he was between wanting to go to see what he looked like all grown up and happy, but the other part of him warned that if he went, he would risk Saeran’s life all over again. Even if he was careful and lied about everything, it might still put a target on Saeran’s back.

Seven spent a long time thinking about it. 

The choice was his to make and V didn’t say that he had to go. He just made it an option that he could choose to come if he wanted. If he could come, anyway. V didn’t know certain things for his own protection. He only knew Seven’s new address for emergency reasons in case something went wrong with Saeran and they had to run through proper protocol. 

Should he go and risk it all? 

Or, should he stay and keep this letter as a token that Saeran was safe? 

It was a big choice to make and he didn’t know the right answer, and there was nobody to ask or talk to about the answer that he wanted to make. Nobody could make it for him and he had to do it on his own. That’s what he always had to do. He always had to decide things that were above his pay grade… it was the price of being the big brother, he always told himself. 

In the end, Seven decided to risk it.

He made a plan for it and worked himself into the ground for days ahead of time so he would have a day off. Those didn’t come very often and Vanderwood wouldn’t bother him as long as the work got done. If he didn’t, they would drop by and remind him what was at risk if they’d shirked off when they didn’t need to. When they weren’t supposed to. Their lives were on the line and that was the truth. 

The agency had never been like the movies. 

It was much, much worse.

This wasn't the kind of life or you could just hack something and get paid for it. They did expect him to be able to do things without a single question. He was expected to absorb information like a sponge and that was all he had to do. If he couldn't keep up with everything that they planned out for him, then it would just end poorly. It would end the same way that Vanderwood had been telling him… in his death. 

He didn't plan on dying anytime soon if he had anything to say about it. He was going to keep living because he needed to. There was no other choice in his heart. His brother needed him to be alive and that was the only way it had to be. It was the only way he was going to let it be. He was doing this so he could have the last bit of motivation in his heart to know that he was doing the right thing. 

He kept telling himself that if he saw Saeran just one more time… 

Just one more time. 

It would never happen again and he would never let it be that way. It was a selfish desire because he had already wasted a lot of time by waiting until late that morning with his brother all those years ago. He couldn't leave his brother in the middle of the night. His brother was afraid of being alone in the dark and he waited for sunrise because if he could do anything that day, it would be to leave his brother feeling hopeful instead of the gotten. 

He knew that it was going to take some time for them to be able to remove his twin brother from that place. It wasn't going to be easy and it wasn't going to be simple. He knew that it could take weeks for them to be able to remove him. 

To leave Saeran was to break his heart. The only thing that he could offer him that last day was the sunrise. He wanted to be able to wash it with him but if his twin knew that he was leaving, he would have tried to come along. He couldn't let that happen. He could have never told him no and that's why he left the way he did.

Seven disguised himself the day of the event. If there was one thing he learned in the agency, it was how to dress himself up and look so unlike himself that he could wander around without fearing people recognizing him. He did have a few favorite disguises that he liked to wear. Even though the agency had forced him to do this because he was young and young people were easy to blend in with the crowd, he had been able to learn that he actually really liked dressing up. He never would have known that before this.

There was just something very validating about being able to dress up. It made him feel good about himself which didn't happen very often. The fact that he had this skill was definitely a comfort because if he was going to break all of the rules, he wanted to make sure that he was going to be safe. Anything that would stop him from putting his brother in danger was going to be for the best.

The gallery show was being held at the same place that he met V. He knew exactly where it was and he knew how to get there. For him to be able to confront it, he decided that the best way for him to handle it was to drive halfway there, and then walk the rest of the distance and get a taxi if he needed it. He was already covering his appearance but he wasn't going to take any chances with someone tracking him. He could never leave any loose ends for himself. 

It took a little bit longer to get there, but he was able to get there in just the nick of time.

Seven allowed himself to catch his breath as he stood in the doorway and looked around the room. There was definitely a crowd that'd come to see the show, so it was hard to tell as to where everyone would be. He drew in this short breath and looked around again, trying to spot his brother in the sea of people. He felt dejected when he didn't see him, but he saw V after some scanning and found himself pausing to see what he would do. 

"Thank you all for coming today, I hope that you are able to enjoy the collections of work that has been displayed today. What I have been working on myself pales in comparison to my assistant, they prefer to remain out of sight for their privacy, of course, but they want you to enjoy their collection with an open mind. Every artist puts their heart and soul into what they capture, and the reflection on the canvas is just the feeling that you can define for yourself. Whatever you see is what is in front of you. The same feeling that the artist feels when they decide to convey their emotions." 

The crowd gave their gentle affirmation in response and cheered for his words. Though, Seven met his eyes and the man smiled back at him. It took away some of the anxiety that he was feeling. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to take the risk? 

As the crowds dispersed and began to look around, Seven decided he would do the same thing. After all, nobody would know him underneath this long wig and costume, and since he hadn't seen Saeran, he wanted to see his photos. He managed to find where they were located in the gallery after passing what he knew to be V's unmistakable photos of the sky. He always felt really good whenever he saw those photos of the Galaxy, but he wasn't looking for that today.

The photos shifted from the stars to something else entirely, something he didn't expect to see. The first photo he saw was of the sky… unlike the stars in V's hands, this was the clouds. It was the bluest sky he had ever seen. The clouds were arranged in a pattern that looked like fruits to him, like a strawberry. Saeran had always loved the blue sky… this had to be one of his photos. 

If he stepped some more forward, he would find a photo of all kinds of scenery. There were sprawling fields of flowers, beaches filled with shells, lakes and the lily pads that bathed them, even expansive gardens that looked ripe with love and care. It was overwhelming to see all of these photos because they were places that his brother had always wanted to see. It overwhelmed him to see it. Each one of those photographs was labeled with Assistant. It was all by Saeran's hand. 

His twin had been able to capture everything that he saw. It was like standing next to his brother as he was able to experience these things for the first time. He missed out on seeing his brother's face for the first time when he got to witness all of this, but seeing all of these photos gave him a chance to have that experience firsthand. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes.

When he came to the end of the hall, he found the last photo.

It was a photo of a single red flower. He leaned over to look at the caption to see what it was called, this one was named Gladiolus. He didn't know that word. Was it the flower? Did it stand for something? It was such an intense looking flower. It made him question the feeling that he was experiencing. 

"Gladiolus, named for the Latin gladius, meaning sword. In Rome, they stood for the gladiators that fought valiantly with their brothers in arms. They symbolize strength and integrity. In some cases, they can also mean remembering a Fallen Friend, or thinking of someone who meant everything to you," a humble voice spoke from the side as Seven stood there in front of the photograph. 

"Interesting," Seven said, as he turned his head to meet V's gaze. Couldn't alright say what he was thinking. "Does that mean that this…" 

V smiled. "Gladiolus grows often in my growing garden these days. My assistant cherishes them dearly because they’re a reminder of someone who he hasn't forgotten since the day he had to move on without them. There are plenty of portraits of flowers here, some of their meanings are listed underneath the photographs. Feel free to look at them all. I'd say this one is the most striking, though." 

This flower was dedicated to his older brother… It was a photograph meant to truly symbolize Saeyoung. Saeran hadn't forgotten about him. It had been his biggest fear that his brother would move on and forget about him. Even though he tried to live without thinking about his brother in the life he was living now, he selfishly wished that his brother would still think of him fondly, if not kindly, but at most fondly. 

Despite everything, his brother still thought of him after all these years. 

V silently stepped to the side and Seven looked beyond him to see what he had been blocking. Across from him and on the other side of the room stood his twin brother, his hair now dyed a minty shade, and green contacts obscured his golden eyes, but there was no mistake. His brother was smiling and laughing alongside those closest to V, those that were in the RFA that V had told him all about. 

Jumin Han and Jaehee Kang were conversing with Saeran, while Zen and Yoosung Kim had their hands on his shoulders, being the ones in the room who made him laugh. That was the thing he could see from his vantage point as the crowds were moving in and out of the way. But, there was no doubt about what he saw. 

It looked like a family. 

Seven felt his eyes welling up with thick tears for the first time in a very long time. He knew he was crying but he couldn't stop it. Saeran looked happy and free and it was all thanks to his Dad, V. He was speechless at that moment and he didn't know what to say. He rubbed furiously at his eyes but it did nothing to quell the tears.

This was all he ever wanted for his twin brother. 

"I bought this painting for you," V broke his train of thought by saying something. "This is yours, after all. I know that you can't have any more than this, but that doesn't mean that you can't have a piece of him with you. It's very common for the people that you know to collect, isn't it? Who's to say that you weren't interested in collecting? Think of it as my gift."

Seven wanted nothing more than to hug V at that moment. He couldn't make a scene or be recognizable in any way, but he felt like the man understood what he was trying to say and convey. "Thank you, V… thank you. I don't know what to say." 

Their time had run out as an alarm began to react on Seven's phone. V pressed his hand to his shoulder and nodded at him,  "Even if the rest of the world tries hard to keep my sons separated, I'll do everything in my power to make sure that they can have a piece of each other to hold onto no matter where they are in the world."

"Your assistant has a very bright future, foster his skills," he smiled back at him despite the pain. He watched as V headed back to the little group with their family. Saeran hugged V and said something that Seven couldn't hear, but the happiness on his face was telling enough. Laughter and all sorts of things spread between them. The group began to talk amongst themselves and by the time that V turned around to see where Seven was, the lonely hacker was gone again. 

Just as quickly as he had appeared. 

As was the photo of Gladiolus.

#mysticmessenger #mystic messenger #mysme #mm #saeran choi #choi saeran #ray choi #choi ray #saeyoung choi #choi saeyoung #luciel choi #choi luciel #seven #707 #jihyun kim #kim jihyun #v jihyun kim #saeran mm #saeran mysme #saeran mystic messenger #seven mystic messenger #v mystic messenger #v mysme #seven mysme #seven mm #v mm #photographer saeran #long post #mod kait #fic

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

hear those bells ring: chapter 4 (a deaf!bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Bakugo and Reader finally get a moment alone, and important conversations are had. Over dinner of course ;) 

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Adult language.

A/N: Sorry for the wait on ch 4, but it’s over 10k, so hope that makes up for it lol Anyway, hope you enjoy!

~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 3 Tumblr Link: Here 

“Great. See you then.” 

The words ricocheted around your head like pinballs, and all you could do was stare as Dynamight turned on his heel and strode out of your ruined shop like he couldn’t stand to be there a second longer. 

“Bak—bro, c’mon!” Red Riot, or Kirishima as he insisted, called after the blond, who didn’t stop. Then the redhead turned back to you, clapping his hands in front of his face and bowing his head. “I’m so sorry about him. He can be a little…” 

“Direct?” you offered when the hero trailed off into silence for a beat to long. 

“I was gonna say he can be a little bit of a dick, but that sounds better,” Kirishima laughed, and you felt your face flush when he aimed that charming grin in your direction. 

You’d heard stories of how charismatic Red Riot was. He was a popular, mainstream favorite hero. The gossip magazines were always covered with his shirtless pictures that never failed to rile up the female population, even Mrs. Kojima and her old lady friends. 

But nothing could have prepared you for being in front of him, for having him wink and smile at you, even if you logically knew he wasn’t coming onto plain old you. He was currently wearing a dark hoodie and non-descript jeans, but you could still see the definition of his muscles through the bulky clothing, which definitely wasn’t helping matters. 

“W-Well, I’m sure you and D-Dynamight have more important places to be,” you stuttered as you averted your eyes. “I-I don’t want to keep you from any hero business.” 

“Alright, alright, I can take a hint, I’ll get out of your hair,” Kirishima chuckled as he held his hands up. 

Your face burned even hotter, if that was possible. “N-No! I mean—” 

“Just a joke.” The redhead winked at you again as he started to back up toward the front door, his boots crunching over glass and debris. “I’ll see you later, though. Oh! And, uh, make sure you’re on time tonight for Bak—Dynamight’s pick up. He really hates tardiness.” 

“Noted,” you murmured as your stomach bottomed out inside you. 

“Don’t look so terrified!” the pro hero laughed, pausing in the frame of your broken doorway. “I promise he’s not so bad once you get to know him. All bark, no bite, remember? But if he does bark at you too much, just let me know, and I’ll be sure to leash him.” 

Kirishima shot another sharp-toothed grin at you, and you strained your facial muscles to try and flash him a small smile in return. You weren’t very successful, since Red Riot’s bright expression dimmed a fraction, but thankfully he didn’t come back into the store. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” he said in a more serious but reassuring tone. “We can get breakfast! I know all the great places around the agency.” 

“O-Okay.” You didn’t know what else to say. Why was this pro hero offering to take you to breakfast? Was this just because of the news? You’d seen how the media had been tearing into Dynamight the last two days, calling him reckless, arrogant. Several interviews with the other heroes who’d been on the scene didn’t help matters, either, since by their accounts, they almost had the villain handled before Dynamight stepped in. 

Maybe Red Riot was just trying to butter you up so you didn’t help with Dynamight’s crucifixion. 

What the redhead didn’t know, however, was you couldn’t say a word against the blond, even if you wanted to. 

“Okay,” Kirishima echoed and drew you out of your thoughts. The pro hero flashed you one last smile and put two fingers to his forehead in a jaunty salute. “Have a good rest of your afternoon and evening! And when you get to the agency, if you need anything, just let our PR manager Nao know. Take care!” 

With that, the redhead pulled up the hood on his sweatshirt, slipped on his sunglasses, and ducked out of your store. Seconds later, he was gone. 

A beat of silence passed by, then two, and then you felt your knees give out from under you as you collapsed to the floor. Pain flared through your lower legs as you struck the hard, debris-strewn tile, but you barely registered the discomfort. Your breathing started to quicken, coming out in harsh pants, and the two paper bags in your arms crinkled with the motion. 

“Fuck,” you exhaled as tears blurred your vision, lifting a shaky hand to grasp tightly at your hair. “Fuck.” 

You’d been so stupid. Yesterday, when neither Dynamight nor the police came banging down your hotel room door, you thought maybe you were just being paranoid. That the blond pro hero hadn’t noticed anything unusual, and you could just go living your normal, unimportant life. 

Of course, the universe just had to prove you wrong. 

Because if you had any doubts before, they were gone now, evaporated under Dynamight’s hot, crimson glare. 

He knew your secret, and he was going to confront you about it. Tonight. Why else would he insist on picking you up? Alone. You’d heard Red Riot say he was patrolling this evening, so he wouldn’t be around to play buffer between you and Dynamight, which provided the perfect opportunity for an interrogation. 

But what could you do? Refuse? Dynamight didn’t seem to be the type to take the word “no” very well. Run? The expression you’d seen on his face before he left clearly told you that you wouldn’t make it very far. Besides, where would you go? Your parents were in America, and as you embarrassingly admitted to that detective the other night, you didn’t have any friends. 

And, until your apartment and shop were renovated, you didn’t have a place to sleep, and you didn’t have the spare money to live out of a hotel, so the agency was really your only option. 

Well, there was prison, too, you supposed. Maybe Dynamight was just going to pick you up and take you straight to the police station. 

He’s not going to turn you in, a small, hopeful voice inside of you said. He would have already done so if that was his goal. 

There was logic behind that sentiment, but it offered you no comfort. 

Because if Dynamight didn’t want to turn you in, what did he want from you? 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“Mrs. Kojima,” you sighed for the millionth time. “I’m going to be fine. And I really can’t take all of this with me.” 

You gingerly passed the large paper bag full of glass food containers back to Tadashi, Mrs. Kojima’s teenaged grandson, who stared at the bag with the hunger only a sixteen-year-old boy could achieve. 

“Fine?” the old Japanese lady scoffed, narrowing her dark eyes at you. “You would be fine in a nice, fancy hotel, not in a building with those… those… delinquents!” 

“Delinquents?” you couldn’t help but laugh. “They’re pro heroes. Famous pro heroes, some of the top in the country.” 

“If they’re so good, they wouldn’t have destroyed your home,” Mrs. Kojima huffed before she used her cane to nudge her grandson. “And Tadashi, give the poor girl back her food. Your face is too gaunt to be healthy, girl, and don’t think I can’t see those circles under your eyes.” 

The boy sighed as he stared longingly at the homemade food, and you could have sworn he was drooling, but he obeyed his grandmother and extended the bag to you again. 

“No, please, keep it,” you insisted as you waved your hands in front of you, taking a step back. “I-I don’t know if there will be a place to keep food in my room, and I don’t want to bother them too much.” 

“You should bother them, since they’ve been such a bother to you,” the old lady said as she nudged you this time with her cane. “You are too nice. I always say this. You need to be more selfish.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You smiled. “But thank you for thinking of me, Mrs. Kojima. It was very kind for you and Tadashi to come see me off.” 

“How many times must I tell you to call me Ayano?” the elderly woman groused, tapping your shin with her cane again. “And of course we came. I wasn’t going to let you stand alone on a dark street and wait for that monster of a man.” 

“Grandma!” Tadashi gasped as he looked up from salivating into the bag of food. “Dynamight is the number two hero! He’s not a monster, he’s the coolest!” 

“I’ve seen him on TV,” his grandmother sniffed. “Always yelling and swearing. And Mr. Takeyoshi said he was very rude the other night. Not to mention all the damage he caused! Nothing but a foul-mouthed delinquent.” 

“Grandmaaaaa,” Tadashi whined. 

You sided more with Mrs. Kojima on this one, but the absolute adoration on the boy’s face made a small smile tug at your lips. 

But your amusement quickly faded as you glanced down at your phone again. 

6:58. 

Said foul-mouthed delinquent should be here any minute. 

As if your thoughts summoned him, the squeal of tires suddenly echoed through the otherwise quiet twilight, and you turned—with a pit in your stomach—to face the intersection down the road. Your street had been blocked off by barricades since the asphalt was still missing in patches, so the sleek, black car that had just pulled up was forced to park on the corner and put on its hazards. 

Your heart was hammering beneath your sternum, beating out a frantic, hummingbird rhythm, and you watched the car door get flung open, a lithe figure ducking out a moment later. The last rays of fading sunlight glinted off his ash blond hair before he pulled up his hood, but then he was looking in your direction, and even if he was too far to see the details of his face, you felt the instant his eyes locked onto you. 

“Holy shit, is that him?” Tadashi asked behind you, followed by a yelp as his grandmother smacked him with her cane. 

“Language,” she hissed, but the rest of her sentence was drowned out by the blood roaring through your ears as Dynamight started to walk toward you. 

No, not walk. Stalk. He looked like a predator slinking down the sidewalk, dressed in black and skimming through the shadows. There were a few people milling about the street, your neighbors who were still trying to clean up, but the pro hero paid them no mind. His gaze was still zeroed in on you, and your breath grew more shallow with each step he took. 

Don’t pass out, don’t pass out, you chanted in your head. And smile! Try not to look like he’s your executioner. 

You plastered on a smile, but it felt jagged like the broken street you stood on, your cheeks aching from the strain. 

Finally, after what felt like a blink and an eternity simultaneously, Dynamight came to a stop about ten feet away from you on the sidewalk. His hands were shoved in the pocket of his hoodie, his face was a cold mask on the tipping point of a scowl, and his eyes felt like red-hot embers burning into your face. 

“At least you know how to be punctual,” he said without preamble, his voice as sharp as his scarlet gaze. 

You heard Mrs. Kojima gasp behind you, followed by Tadashi frantically trying to shush her under his breath, so you cut the old lady off before she could say what was on her mind. 

“T-Thank you for taking the time to escort me to the agency, Dynamight,” you said, bowing at the waist so you could get a moment’s reprieve from those red eyes. “It’s… very kind of you, since I know you must be busy with your hero duties.” 

Mrs. Kojima harumphed behind you, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself before you straightened up. 

Dynamight’s crimson gaze had lost none of its intensity, but he finally seemed to notice Tadashi and his grandmother over your shoulder, and when he spoke, he’s tone was a fraction of a degree softer. 

“Yeah, well… it’s the least the agency can do,” he said evenly, like he’d memorized a script. 

You wondered if Kirishima had said something to him after they left. Or maybe the PR manager the red-haired hero had mentioned? 

Suddenly, you heard someone clear their throat behind you, and you winced. 

“Sorry, this is Mrs. Kojima and her grandson, Tadashi,” you said, motioning to them. “They’re some of my customers who just wanted to see me off.” 

“Customers,” Dynamight echoed as his red eyes raked over the pair. “For your stitching shop?” 

Something about his tone seemed off, but you couldn’t place it. 

“Alterations shop,” you corrected with a frown. “But yes.” 

“Is that all?” he asked as his eyes locked with yours, and you felt your insides liquify. 

Fuck. There was no way he could know that Mrs. Kojima and Tadashi had been “patients” of yours before. Right? Even if he knew about your quirk, that was a leap to make. 

Then again, it did sound kind of weird for two random customers to take an interest in their seamstress’ personal life. You’d set yourself up for that one. 

You opened your mouth, ready to clumsily explain, but Mrs. Kojima beat you to it. 

“I knew her grandparents long before you were a thought in your daddy’s brain boy,” the old lady huffed as she hobbled forward to stand beside you, Tadashi stumbling after her. “So I check on her from time to time, especially when she’s meeting and going off with some no-good delinquent at night. Is that alright with you?” 

“Mrs. Kojima—” you started as your eyes widened. 

“Grandma!” Tadashi hissed, his face flushing with mortification. 

Dynamight, for his part, actually smirked at the old lady’s attitude, amusement dancing in his red eyes as he finally shifted them off you. 

“Well, Stitches here is gonna be fine,” he said with a sharp smile. “She’ll be staying in our finest suite, being waited on hand and foot for the next few weeks.” 

Stitches? What the hell was that? Did he forget your name? 

“Is that so?” Mrs. Kojima narrowed her dark eyes on the blond, and her expression said she didn’t trust the pro hero as far as she could throw him. 

“Lucky,” Tadashi muttered under his breath. 

“If you don’t believe me, you can call her tomorrow and check for yourself,” Dynamight said before he turned to face you completely, effectively cutting off any rebuttal from the Kojimas. “Are you ready? It’s cold, and the car’s running.” 

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, shifting the strap of your duffle bag higher up on your shoulder. “J-Just a second.” 

You turned back to Mrs. Kojima, who was blatantly glaring daggers at Dynamight, but her expression softened as she shuffled in to hug you. 

“Watch out for him,” she whispered in your ear. “And take care of yourself. If something’s wrong, call me, no matter what. You can stay with me, okay?” 

“Thank you, but I’ll be fine,” you murmured as you pulled away. “I’ll call you when I know more about the shop’s repairs. Tadashi, take care of your grandma for me.” 

“Bah!” Mrs. Kojima scoffed, shooing you back with her cane. “I can take care of myself.” 

“I know.” You smiled as you grabbed the handle of your small rolling suitcase beside you. “Have a good night.” 

You turned back to Dynamight to find him suddenly beside you, the scent of burnt sugar enveloping you a moment later. You inhaled so fast it whistled through your teeth, but the pro hero didn’t even look at you as he slipped his finger through your duffle bag’s strap and pulled it off your shoulder. He slung it on his back in one fluid movement, and then he was reaching for your suitcase, too. 

“I-I got this one!” you said, a little too loudly, as you stumbled back a step and dragged the suitcase with you. “Thank you, but, um, I’ve got it.” 

Dynamight pursed his lips at you, his eyes narrowing into crimson slits, but then his gaze jumped over your shoulder. 

“Got something you want to say, kid?” he grunted, and he looked a little ridiculous with your pink and purple patterned duffle peeking out from over his shoulder. 

“M-Me?” Tadashi gaped and glanced around quickly like there was anyone else within half a block, but when he realized Dynamight was still staring at him expectantly, the boy began to ramble. “I-I just, uh, I just wanted to say I think you’re the coolest hero there is. Even more than Deku! Man, I wish I could have seen the fight the other night. You probably wiped the floor with that villain! When I grow up, I hope I’m a hero half as cool as you.” 

Dynamight actually seemed surprised by the boy’s adoring word vomit. The blond blinked as the suspicion and defensiveness drained from his face and posture, and then an easy smirk stretched across his lips. 

“You got a quirk, kid?” he asked. 

Mrs. Kojima made a face beside you like she was going to cut in, but you put a hand on her arm and gestured to Tadashi’s beaming face, and the old lady sighed and relented. She knew what this meant for her grandson. 

“Yeah, I do!” Tadashi grinned and puffed out his chest before he shifted the bag of food in his grasp and held out his right hand. His brow buckled in concentration, but a moment later a flame exploded to life in his palm. The flame grew, flickering upwards as it twisted and twined, changing shape as it went. In the blink of an eye, the teenager held the hilt of a fiery dagger, which he twirled around his knuckles. “I can make different objects with flames, and they act solid when I concentrate hard enough.” 

“That’s a pretty cool power,” Dynamight said as he eyed the flaming blade. “Bet you kick ass in your hero course.” 

“I-I do alright,” Tadashi said as he extinguished the dagger, trying to go for a nonchalant shrug, but the effect was ruined by his mile-wide grin and heart eyes. “You really think it’s cool?” 

“It’s only cool if you’re the best, so don’t slack off,” the blond scoffed. “Only losers half-ass their way through school.” 

Mrs. Kojima’s face was silently scandalized, but Tadashi’s grew determined. 

“Yes, sir!” the boy said as he bowed at the waist. “I’ll work hard to be the best of the best.” 

“Good.” Dynamight smirked. “Then, when you graduate, you can come prove how strong you are by taking me on. Who knows? If you’re actually strong, we might hire a new side-kick.” 

Tadashi looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head as he straightened up, but the pro hero only snickered as he spun on heel and began to stride away. 

“You comin’, Stitches?” he called over his shoulder. 

“C-Coming!” you called back before you flashed the Kojimas one last smile. “Have a good night and be safe going home!” 

Then you took off down the sidewalk, your rolling suitcase clattering over the broken concrete behind you. 

Dynamight’s legs were twice as long as yours and quickly ate up the distance to his car still parked on the corner, and you only caught up to him as he was tossing your duffle in the trunk. 

You stood on the curb panting for a moment, just staring at him, and then the blond looked up and caught your eye. 

“What?” he grunted. 

“N-Nothing.” You cleared your throat and moved to pick up your suitcase, but he beat you to it, bending down and hefting the thing up in one fluid movement. The trunk slammed shut with a resounding thud, and the two of you were left staring at each other in silence. 

“Get in,” Dynamight finally said, jerking his chin at the passenger door. Then he walked around to the driver’s side, yanked open the door, and slid inside without another word. 

You could still feel the Kojimas’ eyes on your back, and you didn’t want to give them cause to worry, so you took a deep breath and got into the car. 

Even though your heart was trying to break free of your ribcage. 

The car itself was sleek and fancy, both inside and out. The seats were a supple red leather with ebony stitching, the dashboard shiny and inlaid with the newest gadgets, and you curled into the seat, afraid to even touch anything. This car was probably worth more money than you’d ever made in your entire life, and you had worked odd jobs since you were sixteen. 

The engine rumbled to life as Dynamight cranked the ignition, warm air blasting out of the vents and thawing your red nose and cheeks. The dash said it was only eighteen degrees Celsius, but the wind had been brisk. 

“Seatbelt,” the pro hero said as he yanked his own across his thick chest. 

You swallowed tightly before you did as you were bidden, and the second you were secured, the blond was throwing the car in gear and peeling away from the curb. Your barricaded street disappeared in a blur, and suddenly you were on your way. 

With Dynamight. Alone. In his car. 

The luxurious interior of the vehicle began to close in on you, feeling more like the walls of a coffin, and you braced yourself for Dynamight’s interrogation. 

Except… it never came. 

Minutes passed by in silence, and all the while, the blond’s red eyes stayed focused on the road ahead. One of his hands casually gripped the steering wheel, the other wrapped around the gear shift, and every one of the hero’s movements was fluid, precise. 

You tried not to, but you couldn’t help but study him out of the corner of your eye. His blank face gave nothing away, and neither did his slumped body language. He was covered in a dark hoodie and jeans again, so you couldn’t see much skin besides his hands and neck, but he looked… fine. 

One would have never guessed that he nearly bled to death beneath your hands two days ago. 

The memory of his blood, warm and tacky on your skin, made you clench your hands in your lap, and when you glanced over at the blond again, you nearly jumped out of your seat when you met red eyes. 

“Now you got somethin’ you want to say, Stitches?” he asked as he shifted gears, smoothly pulling around another car. 

“M-My name’s not Stitches,” you replied without thinking, but maybe this was a good thing. Thinking always got you in trouble. 

“Yeah, no shit,” the blond snorted, darting a quick look at you again before turning back to the road. “But you keep starin’ at me, so spit it out.” 

You fumbled for something to say, still thinking of his ashen face splattered with blood. “T-That was nice, what you said back there to Tadashi. He, um, really idolizes you, so you probably made his whole year.” 

“Tch.” Dynamight clicked his tongue as he looked in the rearview mirror. “Chances are, kid probably won’t end up as much.” 

You frowned. “But you said—” 

“I know what I said,” he cut you off, eyes meeting yours again. “And I meant it. Slacking off is for losers. Still, the brat will probably end up as a B-lister at most, more likely just an extra. That’s just the damn odds.” 

His words were harsh, but you knew they were true. There was no shortage of people signing up to be “heroes” in the world, but very few actually achieved the fame and notoriety of, say, All Might. Even years after his retirement, the Old Symbol of Peace was still talked about. 

“Well… thank you for not saying that to Tadashi,” you murmured as you averted your eyes out the window. 

“Someone will have to eventually,” Dynamight grunted. “But, if he proves me wrong, then he might actually have some potential.” 

“Mmm,” you hummed noncommittally. You didn’t want to talk about Tadashi anymore. Hell, you didn’t want to talk about anything. 

But you knew it was coming. You could feel the pro hero building up to it, the air in the car becoming more tense and charged by the second, like the calm before the storm. 

Part of you wished Dynamight would just rip the bandaid off already. 

The other part of you wondered if you would survive opening the car door and jumping from the moving vehicle, but at the speed the blond was driving, chances were slim. 

You were just thinking to pull out your phone and subtly look at the agency on the map to see how far away you were, but then Dynamight cleared his throat, and you felt all the saliva dry up in your mouth. 

This was it. 

“So,” the pro hero started as he pulled up to a stoplight, and his eyes found yours again. The red light reflected off his face and made it hard to tell where his irises began, everything washed out in crimson. 

But before he could get another word out, a loud growl split the interior of the car. 

Dynamight blinked at you before his gaze fell to your stomach, and you felt your face flare with heat. 

“Sorry,” you muttered as you clenched your abdomen, trying to shut it up, but it only growled louder in defiance. “I, um, forgot to eat dinner since I was busy packing.” 

And because your stomach had been in knots all day, but you didn’t need to tell him that. 

“Wasn’t that kid holding a whole bag of food back there?” Dynamight asked, frowning at you. 

“Y-Yeah.” You blushed even harder. Nothing escaped the pro’s notice, did it? “Mrs. Kojima had brought some stuff, but I didn’t know if there would be a place to store it in, um, whatever room I’m staying in. Plus, Tadashi is always hungry because of his hero course training, so it’s not like any of it will go to waste.” 

“You’ll starve yourself so some brat can stuff extras in his face?” the blond scoffed, and he looked at you like you were speaking another language. 

“I won’t starve,” you argued, a nervous laugh huffing out of you. “I-It’s one meal, and I ate a big lunch.” 

That was a lie, but maybe you could get away with a little one. 

Dynamight studied you for a long, silent moment, his face unreadable. Then the light turned green, and he clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. 

“Tch.” He flicked on his blinker and turned left, weaving down a set of smaller streets leading away from the city’s center, where you knew his agency was located. 

“Where… are we going?” you asked as you glanced out the window. “Is this a short cut to the agency?” 

“We’re not goin’ to the agency,” he said. 

Your heart skipped a beat, and some of your unease must have shown on your face, because the pro hero scoffed again. 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. We’re stopping to get food first.” 

You blinked in surprise. Food? He was buying you dinner? 

“Y-You don’t have to do that,” you stuttered, awkwardly waving your hands in front of you. “Really, I’m fine.” 

“Well, I’m fuckin’ hungry, so I’m getting food. That alright with you, Stitches?” His red eyes flicked to the side and pinned you to your seat, and all you could do was nod. 

The car descended into silence again as Dynamight navigated through the streets, and a few minutes later, he was pulling up to a curb. The street around you was definitely in a better part of town than you were used to, but it didn’t look too fancy. A number of small restaurants dotted the road, interspersed by a couple bars, and a few dozen people roamed the sidewalks, laughing and stumbling and obviously having a good time. 

Dynamight stared out at the crowd through the windshield, a small sneer of disgust curling his upper lip, before he turned to you. 

“Stay here,” he said. No, ordered. “I’ll be right back, so don’t go anywhere.” 

“O-Okay,” you replied with a nod. 

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if trying to discern whether or not you were lying, but he must have been satisfied with what he found because he reached for the sunglasses that were casually thrown atop the dash. He slid them on before opening the car door and slipping out, but he paused before he closed it, bending down and poking his head back inside. 

“Any allergies?” he asked bluntly. “I don’t need you choking and dying on my leather seats.” 

“No allergies.” You shook your head. “Anything is fine.” 

A part of you still wanted to argue about him buying you food, but something told you that you would both lose the argument and succeed in pissing the blond off, which you were trying your best to avoid. 

Dynamight grunted in acknowledgement before he straightened, pulled up his hood, and slammed the car door. He took several strides away before he gestured back to the vehicle, and it was only when the locks engaged that you realized he’d taken the keys out of the ignition at some point. 

He really didn’t want you going anywhere. 

You exhaled shakily as you unclenched and clenched your fingers in your lap, trying to get some feeling back into them. Your thoughts kept threatening to spiral off down dark avenues, so you focused on watching the people outside the car. The windows were pretty tinted, besides the windshield, so you didn’t think people noticed you watching them go about their night. Everyone was happy and smiling, flushed with laughter and drink, and a yawning loneliness suddenly opened up inside you. Even back in America, you’d never had a lot of friends, but you had drinks a few times in college with classmates, and you missed going out to somewhere besides the grocery or craft supply store. You had thought you would have time to make new friends here in Japan, friends that you could try restaurants and bars with, but it hadn’t happened yet. 

And depending on what Dynamight had to say, it might not happen at all. 

You stewed in anxious silence for several minutes, but then the locks disengaged with a chirp, and the blond was sliding back into the driver’s seat, shoving a bulging plastic bag into your lap. 

“Here, don’t drop it,” he muttered as he jammed the keys back into the ignition. 

“I’ll just, um, set it on the floor,” you said as you shifted the bag down to the floorboards, holding it in place with your feet. The aromatic steam wafted out of the bag as you leaned over it, and your stomach snarled at the delicious scent of greasy meat and roasted vegetables. “This smells really good.” 

“Of course it does,” Dynamight sneered. “I’m not gonna eat shitty food.” 

“Only the best for the best,” you joked awkwardly. You blamed your sudden lightheadedness. When was the last time you ate? 

“Damn straight,” the blond huffed, yanking on his seatbelt before shifting the car into gear. “Can you make it five minutes without fainting?” 

“Yes?” you questioned more than stated, your brow furrowing. 

“Good, then hang on.” With that, the pro hero squealed away from the curb, merging into traffic seamlessly. 

Dynamight drove for several more minutes, but you didn’t ask where the two of you were going this time. The blond probably wouldn’t answer, and if he did, it would just be some kind of sharp retort, so you settled for staring out the window while making sure the food between your feet didn’t tip over. 

You hadn’t explored the city very much since you moved here, so most of what you passed by was foreign to you. But, just judging by the amount of lights and traffic around, you estimated that Dynamight was skirting the edge of the downtown area instead of going into it. You knew the general location of his agency, since you panic-Googled it earlier this afternoon, and while it was closer, the pro hero didn’t seem to be driving toward it. 

Eventually, Dynamight pulled up to the curb on an empty street and parked in the shadow of a tall office building. There was no sign on the façade to indicate a company, and only the dim emergency lights shone through the darkened windows, so it was obvious everyone had gone home for the day. Next door to the building seemed to be a small park, concrete and steel giving way to green grass and shadowed trees, but there was no one walking on this particular street. 

“Where are we?” you asked as you frowned out the tinted window. 

“Dunno,” Dynamight said before he opened his door, sliding out of the car without any more explanation. 

You blinked in confusion as he wrenched open your door a moment later, but he still didn’t say anything as he bent down to pick up the bag of food at your feet. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” you asked. “You drove us here.” 

“By the time I answer all your questions, the food is gonna be cold,” the pro hero grunted, and he glared down at you still buckled into your seat. “Get out.” 

“We’re not eating in the car?” You didn’t mean to ask this many questions, you could tell it was irritating the blond, but you were just so… confused as to how you got to this point in your life. 

“I’m not about to let you ruin my damn leather seats,” Dynamight growled, stepping back to give you room. “Now get out of the damn car… please.” 

The last word sounded like it was dragged out of the hero against his will, painfully, and you wondered again if he was trying to be nicer because of all the negative media coverage. You didn’t think the blond gave a shit what the media thought, but Red Riot and their agency did, so maybe Dynamight was being forced to make an effort. 

“Are you seriously just going to gape at me like an idiot? Do your legs not work?” 

Well, what was that saying? You could lead a horse to water, but you couldn’t force it to drink. 

“S-Sorry,” you stuttered as you fumbled with your seatbelt, and you nearly twisted your ankle falling out of the car. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re as clumsy as shitty Deku,” Dynamight grumbled as he easily caught your elbow and kept you from faceplanting. 

This close, you could smell the caramelizing sugar scent that you finally realized emanated from the blond, and even through the sleeve of your sweater, you could feel the strength in the pro hero’s calloused fingers. 

Your face flushed with heat, but you were pretty sure he was tired of your stammered apologies, so you just stepped up onto the curb as he slammed the passenger door and locked the car. 

Then he turned to the tall office building and froze before a scowl twisted his features once again. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, and his red eyes snapped to you. “You’re not afraid of heights are you?” 

“I… don’t think so,” you said with a frown. “I mean, I’ve been on roller coasters before, and I obviously flew here from America—” 

“Perfect,” the blond cut you off, shoving the bag of food at you again. “Take this.” 

“O-Okayyyy?” You tentatively wrapped your fingers around the plastic handles of the bag as you drew the food close to your chest. 

“Now, hop on,” he said as he turned around and crouched, his fingers starting to crackle with light and flares of heat. 

“Wh… what?!” Your whole body felt hot this time, not just your face. “Y-You want me… to get on your back?” 

“Again with the damn questions,” he growled, glaring over his shoulder at you. “If it will get you to move your ass faster, we’re eating on that roof, and unless you have wings under that sweater, I’m the only one who can get us up there, and I need my damn hands to use my quirk. So. Hop. On.” 

You gaped at the blond for a millisecond, a thousand more questions racing through your mind. Why the hell were you eating on a roof of a random building? Was this allowed? Why couldn’t you just go back to the agency? 

But you knew by the look on the blond’s face that he’d reached his limit with questions, so you could do nothing but comply. 

Just don’t think about it. Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think. 

You kept up this mantra in your head as you hesitantly approached the hero’s back. He had turned to look forward again, so at least his crimson eyes weren’t burning a hole into you as you carefully slid one hand onto his shoulder while you used the other to cradle the food against your stomach. 

You were just debating the best way to finish this embarrassing endeavor when you felt strong hands slide over the backs of your knees and pull you forward, startling a yelp out of you. 

“Jump,” Dynamight grunted, and you only had time to mindlessly obey as he straightened to his full height in one fluid motion. 

“Shit!” you couldn’t help but curse in English, hoping he couldn’t understand you. His hands helped to guide your legs around his waist, and you dug your left hand into his shoulder so you didn’t fall backward or crush the food that was nestled between the hero’s spine and your navel. 

A beat passed in silence as the two of you found your balance again. 

“I-I’m not too heavy, am I?” you murmured into the hero’s blond hair. Your throat felt tight with embarrassment, but when you went to swallow, your mouth was as dry as a desert. 

“Tch.” Dynamight clicked his tongue as he shifted your weight a little, his hands burning the backs of your thighs even through the thick denim of your jeans. “I could carry two of you without breaking a sweat. Don’t call me weak.” 

“I wasn’t!” you rushed to assure him. “I just meant—” 

“I know what you meant, shut up,” the blond cut you off, turning his head a fraction so his red eyes sliced into you. At this distance, his burnt sugar scent was almost overwhelming. “Do you have a good grip on me? And the food?” 

“Y-Yes,” you said as your heart began to pound against your sternum. You hoped he couldn’t feel it. 

“Make sure,” he growled, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs before he suddenly let go. 

A small gasp was ripped from you as you clenched your legs around his waist, and your left arm went from clutching his shoulder to wrapping around his neck. 

“Ack! Don’t choke me!” he huffed as he stretched his throat out of the way. 

Your right hand scrambled down a few inches, and you fisted the front of his hoodie, anchoring yourself across his chest as you sucked in your gut, leaned more into his spine, and tried not to crush the bag of food that was steadily making you sweat. 

“I-Is that okay?” you asked, your voice no more than a timid whisper. 

“Fine,” Dynamight said as he dropped his hands down by his hips, his palms crackling with energy once again. “Don’t fucking let go.” 

“I wo—OHHHH!” Your sentence trailed off into a startled scream as the hero suddenly exploded off the ground. 

His quirk made your ears ring, but you didn’t even have time to process that before you were thirty feet in the air. Every muscle in your body locked up in terror, and you were sure Dynamight was going to have bruises on his ribs from your legs clamping down around him like a vise. The wind tore at your hair and clothes, stinging the exposed skin of your face and neck, and you ducked your head against the hero’s blond hair as you clenched your eyes shut. 

Don’t let go, don’t let go, you chanted in your mind. 

Then, as suddenly as it began, it was over, and you heard Dynamight extinguish his quirk an instant before his boots slammed into concrete. 

The two of you stood there for a moment as you panted against the back of his neck, your hammering heart still lodged in your throat, before the blond patted the side of your thigh. 

“You can get down now,” he said. “But don’t drop the damn food.” 

You peeled open your eyes with a shaky exhale, and you could feel your entire body trembling as you slowly slid down from the hero’s back. The crinkling bag drew your attention, and you had a split-second worry that you had crushed the food in your terror, but a quick inspection showed that while the containers were a little crumpled, no food was leaking out. 

“Come on, I’m hungry,” Dynamight muttered before his boots started to crunch away from you. 

You snapped your head up and blindly followed after the blond, your eyes darting to the ground to make sure you didn’t trip over anything and then up to your surroundings to try and figure out where the hero was leading you. 

The answer, apparently, was to the very edge of the roof, and you wondered if the hero was going to make you hop on the Dynamight Express again, but instead he came to a stop beside a large electrical box. To your shock, he opened a small door on the tall metal rectangle and produced a thick, dark colored blanket, which he then threw down on the roof’s gravel. 

“Sit,” he grunted before he flopped to the ground, sighing as he stretched his legs out in front of him. 

There was about four or five feet between the electrical box and the edge of the roof, but the soles of Dynamight’s boots nearly brushed against the roof’s wall. 

Or they would have, if a three-foot section of the cement wall wasn’t missing right in front of him. The edges of the concrete partition looked suspiciously charred black, and you frowned at the sight. 

“Did you… blast a chunk out of this wall?” you asked as you slowly sank to your knees beside the blond. You were painfully aware of the void of protection in front of you, and you knew you were at least ten to fifteen stories above the street. But at least it wasn’t so cold up here, tucked into this little nook with the six-foot tall hero’s body heat helping to warm the air. 

“It was in the way,” Dynamight sneered, leaning over and snatching the plastic bag from where you had set it between the two of you. “And wipe that look off your face. I’m not gonna push you through the hole, and you’re not gonna fall with me here.” 

He didn’t look at you as he said this, too busy pulling out several food containers and spreading them out on the blanket, but the absolute surety, the confidence, in his voice actually eased some of the tension from your shoulders, and you sighed as you shifted onto your butt and leaned back against the electrical box. 

Now that you were seated in front of the hole, you realized this building gave you the perfect vantage point to the east. Most of the other structures were shorter than the one you currently sat on, so the streets stretched out before you like a map. The night sky was clear above you, devoid of clouds, nothing but a dark purple canvas sprinkled here and there with stars. But the moon was nearly full over your head, and its pale light was just enough to see by. You could see cars several blocks away cruising through the pools of lamplight, people waiting at bus stops or walking down the road to their next destination, and a realization came over you. 

“Oh, I see,” you murmured, still staring out at the view. “You must use this building as a perch during your hero patrols, right? You can see a lot from here.” 

“No shit.” Dynamight rolled his eyes as he opened one of the take-out containers. The smell of a well-made yakisoba hit your nostrils, and you watched as the blond ripped open a pair of chopsticks. He must have felt your gaze, though, because his red eyes snapped up and narrowed on you with a glare. “Quit starin’ at me and eat something. I didn’t go through all this damn trouble for nothing.” 

“R-Right.” You cleared your throat as you glanced between the other take-out boxes. “Was there something for me in particular, or…” 

“Just pick something!” he snapped before he shoved a bite of noodles into his scowling mouth. 

You pursed your lips as you reached for the closest container, flipping up the lid to find nearly a dozen yakitori skewers. Your stomach snarled and cramped as the roasted scent of the chicken filled your nose, and you could feel saliva pooling in your mouth. 

Grease immediately began to stain your fingers as you picked up one of the skewers, but you didn’t even care as you brought the kebab to your lips. You took a tentative bite to find the meat still pleasantly warm, but then a groan rumbled in the back of your throat as the flavor exploded across your tongue. 

“Mmmm, that is so good!” you mumbled around a mouthful as you ravenously tore off another bite. “It’s seasoned perfectly, and I like the bit of spice it has.” 

“Told you I don’t eat shitty food,” the blond scoffed before he reached over and snagged a piece of yakitori for himself. 

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth, but you quickly covered it up by taking another bite of chicken. 

“Thank you for the meal, Dynamight,” you said once you finished the skewer, reaching for one of the other containers. This one turned out to be another plate of yakisoba, and you eagerly pulled it into your lap. 

Silence settled between the two of you for a minute, punctuated by the sounds of you both quietly chewing, before Dynamight broke it again. 

“Katsuki.” 

“Hmm?” you asked around a mouthful of noodles. When you lifted your head, your eyes clashed with glaring red ones barely two feet away, and you swallowed quickly so you wouldn’t choke. “Sorry, what did you say?” 

“My name,” he grunted before ripping into another skewer, white teeth flashing in the pale moonlight. “It’s not Dynamight. It’s Katsuki Bakugo.” 

Another hot flash broke out across your body as his scarlet eyes bored into you, and you dropped your gaze to your lap. The blond was too close, his burnt sugar scent still strong beneath the aroma of food, and your brain struggled to come up with a response. 

“Katsuki Bakugo,” you murmured because you couldn’t help yourself, testing out the syllables on your tongue. 

You thought you saw the hero twitch out of the corner of your eye, but he might have just been taking another bite. 

“Yeah, and you better remember it,” the blond said after a moment, his tone adamant, commanding. 

Like there was any way you could forget his name. Japan’s Number Two Hero wasn’t exactly forgettable. 

You found it a little funny, though, that he was so weird about his own name after refusing to call you anything but “Stitches” so far. 

“I will,” you murmured, darting a glance at Dynamight—Katsuki? No, that felt too familiar. Bakugo, then—to find him still staring at you. 

The blond’s crimson gaze was piercing, pinning you to the spot, and you couldn’t look away. You thought he was going to say something, but his eyes only roamed over your face silently, like he was searching your features for an answer to a question he hadn’t voiced. His scrutiny unnerved you, made you fidget, and you played with your chopsticks to try and quell some of your nervous energy. 

Still, he didn’t say a word, but his red eyes began to narrow bit by bit. 

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore, and you opened your mouth to say something, anything, before he beat you to it. 

“You have a healing quirk.” 

The words hit you like a sledgehammer. 

Your heart slammed to a stop in your chest, and you inhaled so fast it was almost a scream. A million thoughts, excuses, and lies scrambled through your head, but the hero didn’t even give you time to grasp at any of them. 

“Don’t deny it,” he said, face twisting into his usual scowl. “Fuckin’ hate liars. I know you have a healing quirk.” 

The blunt confirmation, after so long worrying, felt almost like a relief, but it was quickly followed by a deluge of dread. 

He knew, he knew, he knew. The truth blared through your head like a siren. There really was no running from it now. 

“Well?” Dynamight—Bakugo—demanded as he glared at you. “Are you going to answer?” 

“You didn’t ask me a question.” The words fell from your mouth without your permission, and you winced as the blond’s expression darkened. 

“Fine,” he growled. “Do you have a healing quirk or not?” 

“…yes.” There was nothing else for you to say, so you just stared at the pro hero as the noose tightened around your neck. 

“I knew it.” A wild smirk stretched across Bakugo’s mouth, triumphant and proud. 

“How?” you couldn’t help but ask as you clenched your hands in your lap, the food long since forgotten. Your stomach was churning itself into knots anyway, but a morbid part of you just had to know what was the final nail in the coffin that had sealed your fate. 

“How what? Did I figure it out?” the blond asked as he lazily picked up another skewer and took a bite, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like he didn’t hold your whole world in the palm of his calloused hand. “Because I’m not a blind idiot.” 

“I’m serious,” you said with a frown, digging your nails into your palms. 

“So am I,” Bakugo scoffed, and his red eyes found yours again. “If you’re going to lie, at least do it right. That night in your apartment, you said I wasn’t really hurt, didn’t bleed that much, but your hands and my clothes were soaked with it. Way too much for the stupid paper cuts or whatever you blamed it on. The burns on my left arm were better off than they should have been, too, but I knew you were lying before I even noticed any of that shit. I knew the second you opened your mouth.” 

You cringed with guilt, dropping your gaze to your fidgeting fingers. So, all your lies had been futile from the start. “Was it something in my tone or…?” 

“Well, stuttering over your words with your guilty ass face didn’t do you any favors, but no,” the blond grunted. “It wasn’t your tone, it was…” 

Here, the pro hero trailed off, and he was quiet for so long that you chanced a glance at him. 

Bakugo was frowning off into the distance, staring out over the city without seeing. You could tell he was struggling with something, and since you were obviously a masochist, you pressed him about it. 

“It was…?” you led and then had to stifle a gasp as the blond snapped his head around to glare at you. 

“You can’t say shit about this,” he snarled and bared his teeth like a cornered animal, and you distantly noted that his canines were more pointed and pronounced than what was usual. Then his next words stabbed into you, sharp and serrated, and dragged you back to the conversation. “Do you hear me, Stitches? You don’t say shit to anyone. If you do, I’ll kill you.” 

You blanched at the seriousness of his tone, the sharpness of his eyes, and a nervous laugh was startled out of you. 

“I’m obviously not in a position to say anything against you, Dyna—er, Bakugo,” you said, adding the “-sama” honorific after his name as a show of deference. “You could have me arrested or even deported for using my quirk on you without permission or a license.” 

“Damn right I could,” he huffed as he narrowed his eyes at you, but some of the tension and anger left the lines of his face. “But I’m not gonna do any of that shit because I need—you are going to help me.” 

“Help you?” you echoed in an incredulous tone. “What could I possibly help you with?” 

Bakugo glared at you as the muscle in his jaw worked, like he was chewing over his words, before he finally spat them out. 

“My ears. The reason I knew you were lying immediately was because I could hear you.” 

Your frown deepened as you processed his words. “You remember losing your hearing?” 

“Remember it?” The blond scowled at you. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I remember being fuckin’ deaf!” 

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, waving your hands in front of you. “I just—right after you crashed through my window, you woke up for a second, but you were disoriented. I was trying to tell you that you beat the villain before I saw the blood coming out of your ears and realized you must have blown your eardrums. Then you passed out, and when you woke up again, a-after I… healed you, you asked about the villain a second time, so I just assumed you didn’t remember waking up the first time.” 

Bakugo frowned at you, pale eyebrows furrowing over crimson eyes. “I woke up more than once? Yeah, I don’t remember that shit.” 

“Wait…” You blinked and pursed your lips as you tried to understand what he was saying. “If you don’t remember that, how do you remember losing your hearing?” 

“Because my hearing was shot to shit before I even ran into that damn villain,” Bakugo growled, and his face tightened again as he turned away from you. “Couldn’t even hear my quirk activate anymore.” 

He held up his hand to demonstrate, and flashes of light crackled to life in his palm like mini fireworks. The hero’s expression grew strange as he stared at the visual manifestation of his quirk, but then he clenched his fist and extinguished the sparks. 

Meanwhile, you felt your jaw gape open as your eyes widened. “You… how long has your hearing been in decline?” 

The blond ground his jaw so hard you could hear the scrape of his teeth, and he glared off into the middle distance for so long that you just assumed he wasn’t going to answer you. 

Then… 

“Fuckin’ years, I dunno,” he muttered as he pulled one of his long legs up, balancing his forearm against his knee and pressing his mouth into the back of his wrist. “Didn’t notice it at first, but it probably started at UA, once I was able to use my quirk more regularly.” 

Ohhh, of course. Your eyes dropped to the clenched fist in his lap, and you remembered the boom that made your ears ring as the hero flew you both up here. It had been so loud, and to think of experiencing that multiple times a day, at close range, for years apparently since you knew UA was a famous high school here in Japan… 

“Did you see a doctor?” You frowned, glancing up at the blond as his gaze snapped back to yours. 

“Tch, doctors,” Bakugo sneered, disgust glinting in his crimson eyes. “Fuckin’ useless pieces of shit. I left a good-for-nothing white coat’s office the afternoon I ran into that asphalt villain. Idiot doctor said most of my hearing was just gone, I was going to lose the rest, and there was shit all he could do. Then, few hours later, you patched me up in fuckin’ seconds, so I know that bastard was full of shit.” 

All you could do was blink rapidly at the pro hero as you tried to process all this information. Japan’s Number Two Hero had been going deaf for years, and no one had noticed? You knew that would have definitely made the news, let alone the gossip magazines. What’s more, a doctor said his hearing was a lost cause, and yet… 

“How well can you hear now?” you asked, curiosity getting the best of you. You hadn’t even intended to heal his ears that night, it had just been a side effect of you dumping your energy into his body in order to keep him breathing. 

“Dunno, haven’t exactly done a hearing test,” the blond scoffed and rolled his eyes. “But I can hear you just fine, my phone, too, and my quirk. I’d say that’s good enough.” 

You pursed your lips in thought, studying the hero like he’d been studying you all night, and then you remembered what had started this whole conversation. 

“Okay…” you said slowly. “Well, if you’re hearing is… fine now, what am I supposed to help you with?” 

“Keeping it that way, obviously.” He glared at you. “You’re gonna be stuck at the agency for the next few weeks anyway, so you need to make sure my ears stay working.” 

You gaped at the pro-hero, wondering if you were suddenly losing your hearing. 

“M-Me?” you stammered as your heart crawled up your throat. “B-But I… I’m not a doctor.” 

“No shit,” he said, apparently a favorite phrase of his, and he looked at you like you were a particularly dumb child. “I don’t need a doctor, I told you they’re fuckin’ useless. I just need your quirk.” 

“But…” you trailed off in disbelief. Out of all the outcomes you’d envisioned for this night, this had never even crossed your mind as anything in the realm of possibility. “I’m… not a hero. I don’t have a license to use my quirk.” 

Bakugo stared at you in silence for an endless moment before his upper lip curled into a snarl. 

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” he hissed. “I know all that!” 

“W-Well, I don’t know what you want then!” you said, your voice rising in pitch and volume to match his. 

The echoes of your words ricocheted around you before they faded off into the night, and the blond clenched his jaw as he glared at you. 

“I want you to use your quirk anyway,” he said, the low growl of his tone vibrating through you. You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off mid inhale. “And don’t start bitching about rules. You’ve been using your quirk illegally already. That kid and his old hag of a grandma are patients of yours, aren’t they?” 

Your jaw snapped closed with an audible click, and a smirk bloomed across the blond’s pale lips. 

“Hah,” he snorted. “Knew it.” 

“I didn’t say anything,” you gritted out, and your breathing grew shallow. 

“You didn’t have to,” he said, his smirk taking on a taunting edge. “You really gotta work on your poker face, Stitches.” 

Your vision started to tunnel, interspersed with flashes of Tadashi and Ayano’s faces. “The Kojimas have nothing to do—” 

“Oh, calm the fuck down,” he cut you off as he rolled his eyes again. “I’m not gonna turn a grandma and a kid into the cops. Especially not for doing the same shit we’re going to do.” 

A knot of tension unraveled beside your heart, but your insides still felt more tangled up than a yarn ball being batted around by a crazed kitten. 

“Thank you,” you murmured with a sigh, dropping your eyes to where your fingers were picking at the frayed hem of your sweater. 

“I don’t need your gratitude,” he scoffed. “I just need—” 

“My quirk.” You were the one to cut him off this time, and you lifted your gaze to his again. 

“Yeah,” he said as he narrowed those scarlet eyes at you like a predator zeroing in on its prey. “So, is that your way of saying you’ll do it?” 

You bit your lip as you considered your options, but really, you didn’t have any. Dynamight was a famous, rich pro hero with all the leverage. He could ruin your life… but he wasn’t. He was instead providing a trade. 

His silence for your quirk. 

The Kojimas flashed through your mind again, as did your other “patients,” as the blond called them. You thought of your parents, too, and your grandparents. If you agreed to the hero’s proposition, you wouldn’t have to return to America as a failure, and after a few weeks, you could reopen your family’s legacy shop. 

And, in the meantime, you still got to use your quirk. You could heal, actually be useful. Even more than that, Japan’s Number Two Hero was relying on you. 

You didn’t know if you were up to the task, having never used your quirk beyond minor instances that were usually days or weeks in between each other. 

But… 

“Yes,” you finally said as you looked up into Katsuki Bakugo’s face. “I’ll help you.” 

You just hoped you didn’t hang yourself in the process.

#bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x you #bakugo/reader #bakugo/you #bakugo katsuki/reader #bakugo katsuki/you #katsuki bakugo/reader #katsuki bakugo/you #bakugo katsuki #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #my writings #fanfic #deaf!bakugou #pro hero dynamight

[cacoetheswriting]

come back to me

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader Warnings: typical cm stuff (mentions of gun related injuries, descriptions of anxiety and fear of losing a loved one), & little fluff Word Count: 0.8k Summary: Reader is feeling scared when Spencer gets called away on a case, after almost loosing him completely. Prompts: “Don’t leave me! Please!” & “Promise me you’ll come back.”

a/n: requested by the ever so lovely @willowrose99​ as part of my milestone celebration

-

No-one said dating a Supervisory Special Agent would be easy. In fact, all you’ve heard since the start of your relationship with Dr. Spencer Reid were various warnings and words of caution - “You’ll never get to see him.”, “His job will always be more important.”, “What if something bad happens?”.

The numerous trips away, the exhaustingly long hours, the exceeding amount of paperwork that was often brought home - none of that bothered you. You knew what you were getting yourself into and because it was Spencer, you didn't care. The man was worth stepping into the unknown with.

And for a long while, everything was blissful.

The team was called out to Texas and you let Spencer go with a sweet kiss, and a promise he would check in every chance he got. He was usually good at that. Even during the tougher cases, the brunette doctor still managed to at least send you a quick text as reassurance that he was doing okay.

This time however, it wasn't Spencer who got in touch.

The phone woke you up in the middle of the night and on the other line was a frantic Penelope. Through her muddled breaths and heavy tears, she did her best to explain what a terrible thing had happened - your boyfriend was currently in surgery after being shot in the neck. 

At first you didn't believe her, blame that on the initial shock of the received news. The more Penelope cried however, the more your heart ached. Everything everyone in your life previously warned you about was coming true. Your absolute worst nightmare was coming true. You could lose him, forever.

Penelope advised the case was still ongoing and for your own safety you shouldn't come - much to your protests and dismay. She promised someone from the team would send you updates as often as they could, and although the offer was thoughtful, you still didn't get much sleep the rest of that night. You actually didn't sleep until Spencer came home.

Things changed after that incident.

Every time the young doctor got called away with the team, you slowly began to always fear the worst. Something bad was bound to happen. He was going to get injured again. The negative thoughts clouded your mind for hours and hours on end. They affected your daily tasks and your own work. You couldn't concentrate on anything you were supposed to be doing - at least, not until Spencer called to say the case was solved and he was on his way back to you.

Spencer could clearly tell something was wrong. He instantly noticed the not so subtle changes in your behaviour. Your growing restlessness and trouble sleeping, proved by the faded bags under your eyes. Nervous twitches whenever his phone rang. Not to mention the lack of appetite.

He knew it was the nature of his work that was the cause of your pain, and what made all of this worse, he didn't know how best to help you.

Now, as he re-packed his go-bag, he could feel your eyes apprehensively following his every move. Wrapped up in the duvet, clinging it tightly to your chest as if it was your only lifeline, you could feel the tears slowly form. You weren't ready for him to leave again, you didn't want him to. Mainly because whenever he stepped foot outside the threshold of your shared apartment, you were scared out of your mind.

“Don’t go... Don’t leave me...” You mumbled, biting down on the inside of your cheek. The plea was so quiet you weren't sure Spencer heard you at first. He did, and when his head snapped in your direction, you immediately dropped your gaze, afraid if he caught your eye you would burst into tears.

“Don’t leave me!” You repeated with a little more strength. “Please!”

The young doctor shuffled toward the bed and sat down in front of you. One hand moved to your face, gently tilting it back up by your chin, while the other reached for yours. He intertwined your fingers together and began to rub soothing circles into your skin. Dropping your shoulders, you relaxed at his touch.

“I’m sorry.” You breathed after a moment of silence.

Spencer shook his head. “Don’t apologise. Don’t ever apologise, okay?” The look in his eyes was full of amity and care, you felt terrible for putting him through this. He had enough on his plate.

“Y/N, I’m sorry for being the cause of all of this stress. And please know, I consider myself the luckiest man in the world because I have someone like you worrying about me.” He stated, and you couldn't help but smile. Spencer trailed your expression using his finger and smiled back.

“Promise me you’ll come back.” You whispered.

Instead of answering, the young doctor leaned in and pecked your lips. He then proceeded to hold out his right pinky and patiently waited for you to mimic this action. Once your pinkies were looped together, Spencer placed another sweet kiss to your lips and looking deep into your eyes, he whispered, “Always. I will always come back to you, Y/N.”

-

masterlist | milestone celebration

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​​, @averyhotchner, @wowitsel, @elldell1204, @hey-there-angels, @reidabookforonce, @willowrose99

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #mal's milestone celebration 🌟

[drxwsyni]

Petrified (pt. 9)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: This part is really short, and honestly not that good. But seeing as this whole series is a mess, not much is new lmao. Thank you to @sawamooora for beta reading ilyyyyy <3 <3 <3

*Sidenote*: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist!

3.4k words

Warnings: Descriptions of past dubcon, gaslighting.

Waking up, you wished the metaphorical blanket of comfort wasn’t ripped off of you the moment you opened your eyes.

It was an uncomfortable contrast.

While one blanket was ripped off, a real, physically tangible blanket weighed down on not just you, but the two sleeping men who had you sandwiched in between them. Seeing Hizashi on your right, and Shouta on your left was all you needed to be plunged into a dreadful confusion.

Your body hurt. An ache creeped through your spine as you sat up, only to realize you were completely bare. If the pain spreading across your skin wasn’t enough of a clue as to what had ensued less than twelve hours ago, then the evidence marring your body would be.

An intense throbbing radiated from your backside, prompting you to lean over on your elbow. Pulling down the covers, your eyes landed upon the black and blue patterns littering your skin, trailing down to the tops of your thighs. It seemed that both your wrists and hips were adorned with similar bruises, the only difference were those being distinctly fingerprint shaped. No one position completely alleviated the ache.

A sting emanated from your neck and shoulders as you lightly traced over the series of wounds, feeling remnants of bite marks and long scratches. In examining the bedsheets, you were convinced that the patterning of the fabric wasn’t tricking your mind. Little blotches of blood were just barely visible where you once laid.

An indiscernible cloud still hung over your mind, even if it was only slightly there by now. A fog that was muddling your memories, blocking whatever had gone down between you and the men at your sides. Nothing you could recall really felt concrete, at least for now―the possibility of memories returning over time being not all that unlikely. In the present however, the only indicators to tell you what happened were the marks they left behind.

And based on those―you were certain that it was never something you would’ve agreed to.

The morning sunlight was beginning to stream into the room, breaking through the small divides of the curtains. One glance at the alarm clock placed on Shouta’s nightstand told you that it was just over half past five.

On a Sunday morning, neither of them had anything to do. Naturally, the two were still sound asleep. You envied how peaceful they seemed, bathed in morning light, free from worry―a contrast to the nauseating unease you felt.

Becoming more and more horrified by the second, drowning in your thoughts and grasping at what they had done to you, the only one thing that stood out was your need to get the fuck out of there.

As carefully as possible, for fear that one move too harsh would wake one, if not both of the so called heroes, you peeled back the blankets from your battered form. Proceeding to crawl down to the foot of the bed, you gave a glance over your shoulder―just to confirm that the two were still sedated in slumber.

You let out a shaky breath upon confirming that they were, returning to swiftly taking your leave. But in the split second, when a whimper of pain left your lips, body doubling over at the burning enveloping your core as you settled your weight to stand—you were immediately sure their perception as trained heroes would alert them to the noise.

Though still, the steady rise and fall of Shouta’s chest, and the now relaxing sound of Hizashi's light snoring, put your nerves at ease―even if only a little.

Your clothes from last night weren’t in the bedroom, but neither were theirs. In finding a steady trail of frantically discarded articles leading to the living room, you could finally abandon the suffocating atmosphere that was their home. Freedom was the only thing on your mind as you hastily dressed yourself and grabbed your bag from the foyer.

_____

Hizashi Missed Call (7) 10:48 AM

Hizashi Text Message (16) 10:32 AM

Shouta Missed Call (3) 9:54 AM

Shouta Text Message (5) 8:12 AM

It would seem the shake in your hands would be uncontrollable until the foreseeable future, sighing as your phone lit up once again. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest idea to disappear with no warning, knowing how the two could be when they weren’t in the know of your every move.

Yet, if they knew just how downright terrified you were to stay until they woke up, maybe they’d understand your unceremonious leave of absence.

Unfortunately, they didn’t. Neither of the heroes seem to be all that knowledgeable of how they affected you, what they did to make you fear them.

For so long you tried to bury that anxiety you felt with them. They crossed the line of innocent concern a long time ago with their intrusiveness. And now, with the marks they left behind, spanning across your body and leaving a searing pain as an unignorable reminder of just who they were under their doting facade―you couldn’t simply disregard what this relationship had turned into.

It was toxic.

The safety they should provide feeling ripped away in their presence.

It was suffocating.

Even when you were alone, there always seemed to be an inescapable weight upon your shoulders, mind guessing as to when you’d see them next.

It took you until now to realize it, until they’d done something you couldn't quite ‘forgive and forget’―but you finally knew their tactics, what they’d been doing all along. They were predatory in every sense of the word, targeting your weaknesses to seek a self satisfying goal.

With each missed call and unread text message, you cursed yourself for not fighting your way out of their grasp before it became nearly inescapable. That, and there was a painful tinge of shame riddling your body with how you’d let them handle you.

Most of last night was all but impossible to recall, but the existing memories told a clear story. They made you feel good, really good. Even in whatever stupor they’d placed you under, it’d be impossible to forget the intense and repeated sensations the two men made you reach.

The thought alone had you nauseous, knowing the circumstances of how you ended up like that.

In any case, the idea at the forefront of your mind was that there’s no time like the present. Especially since you were quite literally adding fuel to the fire by ignoring them. You couldn't change what they’d done to you, but you could change what happened going forward.

It was simple―you never wanted to see the two faux heroes ever again.

Hizashi had been trying to contact you for the better half of the hour. But what really bothered you was how Shouta stopped doing so a while ago―better to know what he was up to than the radio silence that only made the pit in your stomach worse.

Though it wasn’t all that bad―it would be easier to stomach the voice of Hizashi, especially over the phone, given what you were about to tell him.

A new call came through. On the final ring, you answered.

“...―Shou’, I’m not gonna stop till she―”

With the sudden absence of noise, it wouldn’t be hard to believe that the call had ended. Though, silence between the three of you was never short. Never before, and still not now.

“...(Y/n)?”

Your jaw clenched in worry, hearing Hizashi use your first name instead of a not so endearing pet name. Laced with the exhausted sounding disbelief, you could tell even over the phone that he wasn’t doing so good.

Part of you almost forgot to respond, his voice alone bringing you back to last night. When you did, you winced at the unintentional shake which you couldn’t control.

“Y-Yeah, I’m here.”

“Oh, thank god. What―Where did you run off to? Gave us a damn heart attack when you weren’t in the house.”

For someone so physically fit, Hizashi sounded like he just ran a marathon. Although, you suppose given the scare you put him through, the out of breath reaction was understandable.

And relatable, as your heart rate was beginning to pick up, anticipating how they’d soon handle your message.

“I, uh...I went home before you guys woke up…”

You could practically see the perplexed expression on his face, the sound of confusion coating his words.

A small laugh of disbelief came through the speaker. “Well there was no need for that, sweetheart.”

As if your body was trying to expel the extra energy from the adrenaline you were using to have a steady conversation with him, you began mindlessly wandering around your apartment.

“I just didn’t...feel comfortable? N-Not after what happened, I mean―last night shouldn't have happened, at all. So I left.”

The two heroes were back in the living room of their home, where they found your stuff missing in the morning. Shouta’s eyes narrowed at your words, hearing them clearly over the speakerphone. He shared a glance with his partner, the latter seated on the couch and nervously bouncing his leg.

“I’m not so sure I’m following. I don’t wanna embarrass you or anything, knowin’ how shy ya get, but...you were screamin’ our names last night. Don’t see how ya could’ve had a bad time, songbird.”

That detail in particular was one of the many occurrences from then that escaped you. With your memory being in shambles, it was pretty much a ‘he said, she said’ when it came to what happened.

...Pretty much.

The things that did stick, well...you almost wish they didn’t.

While all the fleeting events you knew of didn’t leave a good taste in your mouth, certain details made you sick to your stomach.

“I’ll never get sick of seein’ ya like this, songbird.”

The ones you couldn’t explain, and left far too many possibilities of theoretical context. Most of them being a worst case scenario for you.

“…You saying we should speed things up?”

Or, the ones that could be easy to pass off as playful teasing, if it weren’t for the darker undertones that made your wild imagination run rampant.

And when the things they whispered lowly into your ear became a jumbled mess of inebriated nonsense, you could still rely on memories of their touch. How they held you, early in the night when you weren’t completely lost to both natural and unnatural chemical influences. The sensations of frustration, only met with feelings of being restrained. They way it felt almost practiced, as if they were planning to do whatever they did long before it actually happened.

Unconsciously, you wandered into your bedroom, anxiously pacing all the while. The safety of its familiarity was sedating, to an extent.

You shook your head, trying to figure out how you’d get your concerns across to the two men. “That’s...That’s not the problem. Well it is but―the whole thing was just a bad idea.”

A muffled, irritated sigh could be heard. “No, something must be going on with ya. It’s probably better we talk this out in person, yeah? You home right now, sweetheart?”

In typical Hizashi fashion, he failed to respect your boundaries. You let out your own sigh of annoyance, spinning on your heel to face your bedroom’s window.

“There’s nothing―”

...You were most definitely certain that you closed your window before leaving yesterday.

Forgetting that you were in the middle of a very heated conversation, the hand that was holding your phone to your ear fell slightly. With the one that was free, you pulled the frame closed.

…

And it creaked back open.

The latch was busted.

Deft fingers grazed the metal frame, where it would typically snap shut, and stay shut. While it wasn’t untypical for these kinds of things to break, knowing that your apartment complex wasn’t exactly the newest, the fault didn’t sit right with you.

And, when you set your phone down, using one hand to hold the window closed, the other to keep it in place by fastening the lock, you found that too equally damaged.

...Almost like someone tried to leave out the window, in a hurry at that. Which would explain it being left open, and how the aggressiveness of the action would render the whole thing completely useless.

The sound of your name being called through the speaker brought you back to the main issue at hand. Picking up the phone, you could only continue where you left off.

“There’s nothing else to talk about. Whatever relationship the three of us have...I don’t want to be a part of it anymore.”

You managed to shock yourself with that, not actually believing you had it in you to really put your foot down.

Hearing the radio silence that followed, you knew he was more shocked than you were.

It made you wonder if he was more fucked up on one substance or another than you were last night—the sheer level of denial Hizashi was in over the whole thing.

“...Don’t talk like that, gonna give me another heart attack. Two in one mornin’, that’s awfully cruel, dontcha think?”

You were always one to shy away from confrontation, but now was not the time for that. The chance to cut your ties with them in this moment was as best as you would likely ever get.

“I’m not okay with what this has turned into, Hizashi. Not remotely comfortable, and—“

“Where are you, (y/n).”

...

Shouta’s voice.

“...This isn’t something we should discuss over the phone.”

It shamed you that all Shouta had to do was address you in that low, gravely voice of his, and you were instantly regretting every decision you’d made since picking up the phone. He certainly had an effect on you; no matter how many times you dealt with his tone, you could never quite get used to the sternness.

You swallowed dryly, still eyeing the unnaturally broken window.

“I-I’m not telling you where I am. You need to respect my decision on this…”

But if they couldn’t respect the privacy of your own home, why would they care about your newfound insistence?

...

The thought of the two men being culprits to the property damage popped intrusively into your head. Wildly associating it to be an explanation to the fragments of blissed out proclamations, whatever “seein’ ya like this” meant.

Your grip on the cellphone faltered, a shake seizing your hands.

No, they were heroes.

What purpose would they have breaking into your apartment?

Because if Hizashi was referring to somehow having already seen you in such a compromising position as the one him and his partner coerced you into…

You took a step back from the window.

“It’s not something you have to like, b-but neither of you guys cared about what I wanted last night.” With the slight crack in your voice, you winced knowing they could likely tell how hard it was to be firm in your ways with them, only making their job easier. “You...you went too far―that’s why I’m so upset.”

Shouta’s words, as always, effortlessly sent a pang of anxiety through your system.

“You didn’t know what you wanted last night, we made that decision for you. And judging by how you didn’t exactly try to put up a fight...” The small, almost inaudible chuckle only made his claims tear you apart more. “...I’d say you were more than happy with our decision.”

Never failing to find the exact things to say to shut you up, to put you in your place, Shouta remained confident with where things were going since he took control of the conversation.

You fumbled on your words, not quite sure of what would be the best argument to deny his statement.

“T-That’s―”

“That’s the truth, and you know it.”

I can’t even remember half of what happened last night, is what you wanted to say.

You wanted to scream at him, really. The two of them loved assuming they knew everything―what was best for you―despite the clear evidence that they in fact did not.

Naturally, all you could actually do was run from wherever this conversation was headed. It was obvious you would never reach an agreement with them. All they’d want to do was take, take, take. Make demands like they were in charge of you.

You knew that you’d never be able to get through to them.

And honestly, you didn’t have the energy to even try.

The point of answering their call was to finally end things, and that’s all that was left to do.

“...I don’t care what either of you think, whatever happened last night—I didn’t want it. Just...don’t try to contact me again. Goodbye.”

When you finally pressed the ‘end call’ button, you expected to feel that weight of their unrelenting presence lift off of you.

...It didn’t. But you probably shouldn’t be surprised. It’d take time to calm down, all you really needed to worry about now was returning your life to how it was before meeting the two all those months ago.

Another call came through in seconds, startling you where you still stood in your bedroom. Shaking slightly from lingering nervousness, you hastily declined it, not checking to see who it was from. Fingers flying across the screen, you blocked both Shouta’s and Hizashi’s contacts from your phone, proceeding to delete the existing conversations.

A small step towards getting back to normal.

Just one of many.

_____

Trying to conceal the slight limp in your step as you walked to work on Monday was both difficult and mortifying, each sharp pain shooting through your abdomen an unwelcome reminder. A cold shiver ran through you, prompting you to shove your hands in your pockets for warmth.

The changing seasons meant you’d have to work on moving around the shop’s layout. Bringing more delicate plants inside, swapping them out for seasonal ones that could handle the chill in the air. A task that you wondered if you would have to complete yourself.

With the days growing shorter, you noted the dusk already settling over the sky, drawing near the start of your 5pm shift. The orange hues dancing in the clouds were certainly a beautiful sight. Your gaze repeatedly found its way back to the sky as you walked down the sidewalk.

The closer you got to work, the more vibrant it seemed.

Strange indeed.You passed it off as the darkening night merely amplifying the remaining light of the setting sun.

Turning down another street, you could hear the approaching sound of sirens. A firetruck soon whipped past and continued down the road, making you shuffle towards the inside of the sidewalk. The piercing noise left an uncomfortable ringing in your ears.

When such an irritating reaction to the blaring never completely faded, you realized that was because it was just more distant sirens, multiple of them, sounding off in the direction you were heading.

You picked up your pace.

With another glance at the sky, you began to see not just the orange hue intensifying, but also a distinct plume of black smoke.

...

...It’s not...it can’t be…

Soon enough, your leisurely walk picked up speed. The ache in your gut from both physical wounds and growing anxiety making you nauseous.

Barely taking precautions to watch where you were going, you focused only on the direction of your shop, and the beacon of light that seemed to be right on top of it. Mindlessly placing one foot in front of the other, feeling like the end of the road before you turned the corner was only growing further away with each step.

The unpleasant smell of something burnt met your senses—faint, but there nonetheless.

You couldn’t lie to yourself, whatever was up ahead, it wasn’t good. But it couldn’t be what you were thinking.

Not your shop.

No. You’d turn the corner, and it would be fine.

The small boutique would be where it always was, nestled in between two buildings, waiting for you to start your shift.

Things would go back to normal, just like you’d planned.

…

The wailing sirens met your ears in full force. A stifling air, unnaturally hot and acrid washed over you, causing you to instinctively clamp a hand over your nose and mouth.

In gradually coming to the worst realization of the night, your free hand braced the brick wall of the building next to you, knees nearly buckling.

Thirty feet away, lighting up the street to be as bright as day, was your workplace completely engulfed in flames.

#yandere #yandere bnha #yandere my hero academia #yandere erasermic #yandere eraserhead #yandere present mic #yandere aizawa #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi #yandere hizashi yamada #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere mha #tw dubcon #tw gaslighting

[caesthetix]

SAY A LITTLE PRAYER — Ep. What Paradise Is

↪Eren Yeager mini-series

↪content; major character death, canon universe, heavy angst, description of violence, established relationship, spoiler for season 4, alternate ending, manga spoiler

"You know, I can't help but thank Eren that he killed her that night."

Everyone was busy with themselves after Jean beat Reiner to a pulp. The rest of them who were still awake, circling the campfire, waiting for sleepiness to engulf them. But that sentence was enough to stop them from dozing off, some pairs of eyes decided to fall upon them instead.

Hange tried to be neutral all the time. They needed to be the mediator between the Marleyans and the rest of the Survey Corps. After all, they needed each other if they wanted to stop the rumbling. Yet they couldn't help but speak up, they were human too after all.

"Huh?" It was Connie. "What do you mean by that, H-Hange-san?"

They just smiled softly as they looked down, watching their own reflection from the brown liquid in their hand. It was your favourite drink, coffee. Every sip would always be savoured as they imagined you sitting right in front of them.

"But we could use her strength. If she lived, she could help us to sway Eren." Armin spoke up, responding to their statement before. His blue eyes staring at the crackling fire, deep in his thoughts. "When we lost her, we lost seventy-five percent of the chance for winning this without having to harm Eren."

"You tell me that is the reason why he killed her?" The scowl on Connie's face hardened as he tried to connect the dots. "So we can't use her against him, eh? What a coward at the end. That lunatic bastard—"

"She would have followed him."

Mikasa's voice was soft and tiny as she cut his sentence. Yet even though it heard like a whisper, everyone could hear what she said. They blinked in confusion, except Hange and Jean who currently stood a few feet from them, somehow understood. The Marleyan raised their eyebrows in confusion, Annie could not understand what they were all talking about.

The rest of them were begging for more information, but the ravenette didn't give them any.

"She would have followed him."

Instead, she repeated the words. Her friends would understand her sentence — if they decided to use their brains for a while. They all knew you, she didn't have to give any further explanation regarding her statement.

Of course, now they understood why Hange thanked Eren for what he did to you. Even if you were alive right now, you were not going to be here, eating stew and drinking coffee while fretting about how to stop your lover who tried to commit genocide to the whole world.

You were going to be there, by his side, with your swords ready to be pointed out to anyone who tried to stop and harm Eren in any way. You would stand there, devoting your heart not for humanity, but for him. That was how big your love was, something that was blinding you, to the extent of worshipping him.

And they couldn't imagine themselves to be the one who sears their blades at you.

"You never told us, Hange."

Jean's voice filled the void, his feet stomping the grass underneath him, echoing through the quiet night. "That night, you never told us what happened." He stood on the other side of the campfire, his tall body looming in front of them as they seated on the ground.

The brunette stared at the man with a stern gaze, contemplating if it was the right moment to tell them. But their time was limited now, as their friends, they all deserved to know what happened that night.

"Alright." They put the metal cup down their lap. "Though I remind you now, it wouldn't be pleasant but," It even felt so heavy for them, by just thinking about your death. "But it would be so — her."

The veteran scout told them everything. From how you stood in front of their door, the coffee that they shared with you, to the time you cried when they gave you the key so you could go inside his cell. They were sure that you went there to talk and asked for a reason, but they knew thirty minutes wouldn't be enough.

Jean felt bad for asking, as he could see how much the commander suffered from this burden. Hange's hand balled into a fist, the other gripping tight on the cup's handle. Yet they keep on going, telling them how they saw Eren wash his face as if his hands were not stained by his lover's blood.

They explained the bruises on your neck, shaped like fingers as an indicator of how you died.

"Fuck." Jean cursed, his eyes glistening with tears that were threatening to fall. "Fuck." He shouldn't have asked, but it was too late, he could see the horror in your eyes, how afraid you were that night, how you were screaming for help but no one came.

For you to die, and the one who was responsible was your lover, he couldn't imagine the betrayal on your—

"But you know what's funny?" Hange spoke up once again, they were not finished yet. Their comrades immediately looked at them once again, asking for them to continue.

They sipped their coffee, recalling the gleam in your eyes, the comfort that they remembered up until now. There was no terror, you were not afraid of him even in your last moment. "There was no sign of resistance."

And that fact was enough to wake them up.

"Even from the start, when Eren choked her, she just stood there, letting him do it." They chuckled, almost maniacal. "Her eyes still shone with comfort as she looked at him. I-I always figure her out, I understand a lot of things about her. But, but I can't with this one."

They stopped, groaning as once again your eyes were the only thing that they could see. "I don't know anymore if she really believed that he must have to kill her for a reason," His hand shook the cup gently, letting the liquid swirl inside. "Or she believed that he would stop and let her go, even until she's gone for real."

And that last sentence broke them all.

The Marleyan couldn't look at the broken soldiers in front of them. Gabi and Falco pursed their lips, trying so hard to sleep. Annie who was sitting beside the unconscious Reiner, now having her pupils dilated as she understood the story, and who would be the mysterious woman that made them distressed like this.

Connie was silent as he kept gulping down water down his throat. Armin closed his eyes, but he could see it so clearly, the faith in your orbs. Jean just chuckled bitterly, muttering stupid woman again and again as tears were cascading down his cheek.

Then, Mikasa, her lips trembled as she tried not to sob. But whimpers already slipped, her empty cup fell to the ground as she put her hands on her ears as she wanted to stop the noises in her head. You brought joy, even in her life, and to be reminded that you were killed by Eren nonetheless, tore her apart.

The rest of the night was filled with nothing but sorrow. Tears accompanied them all to their sleep, silent weeps and choked-out sobs could be heard here and there.

Hange could only stay put under the white cloth that works as their blanket, staring into the dark green of trees, then went beyond that to see the night blue skies which adorned with stars. They subconsciously raised their hand, as if they were reaching for someone.

“Tell me, Hange!”

They tried to understand him, they really did. When they closed your eyes as you laid on the infirmary bed, they knew that you would appreciate it if they tried to understand why he killed you. Down in the basement, they tried to bait him with your condition, blaming him for how they lost another comrade.

“If there’s another way, then tell me what it is!”

But they were not you, they couldn’t see it. They wanted a reason but all they got from the man was just subtle answers, pain, anger, and how what he did was something inevitable. They just knew that he suffered too from what he had done, so perhaps it was enough.

They just wished — they could understand you.

"Oh, (Y/n)." They sighed, finally letting the tears slip down their cheeks. No one else saw them, it was just their lonely soul and the craving for your existence. "I think I didn’t know you enough."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ༶•┈┈⛧┈〄┈⛧┈┈•༶ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

His vision was supposed to be filled with lights, dark blue lights that came from the coordinate. He used to know it all, see it all, what happened in the world as he activated the rumbling, he could hear all the screams from those people underneath him. Trampled by gigantic power, without given any mercy.

He couldn't remember when it stopped. The terror, his friends fighting him so they could stop his plan — suddenly all he saw was just a bright pinkish sky. It was as if he was laying down on one of the clouds, soft and free.

The breeze tickled his long hair, good that it just swayed his brown strands softly, but not good enough to give him comfort.

Comfort, oh, how much he longed for that word.

The past few days had been so hard as he kept on living to grant freedom to the Island of Paradis. He could not count how many of his comrades died, how many of his followers ended up not seeing that freedom, let alone all the lives that he took.

And now when he knew that he failed, he chuckled as the realisation dawned upon him. After all these years — he was still the same useless boy.

"Eren."

He sat up in an instant. Dark green eyes searching for the source of where it came from. Surely he was not hallucinating, but that was a possibility. He didn't even know what this place, let alone believing that it was her voice.

"Hey, Eren."

But it was indeed your voice. No matter how many days or weeks passed after some time he had to part with you, he could always recognise that voice anywhere. Gentle, warm, and comforting, it felt like he was so close to heaven.

"You are here."

Then he felt it. He felt you. He looked down on his torso, finding two arms wrapped around him from behind. It felt so right as his hand slowly covered yours, testing it in case it was all in his head. But he could touch, he could trace his finger on the back of your hand.

He laughed, just a short one as he still processed what kind of magic existed in this place. You rested your chin on his shoulder, planting a peck on his cheek without warning that caused him to blush a hundred shades of red.

"(Y/n)?" He called out your name. "Are you real?" You only answered with a single hum. "How come are you real? Where is this place? Why am I here? I am not supposed to be here, I needed to finish the plan, Ymir is—"

You shut him up by placing your finger in front of his lips.

"You are free, Eren."

Silence. He could not understand that. Did it mean that he already died? But if that was the truth, why did he even feel more alive now compared to all those years that he spent before?

You slowly retracted your finger, pulling yourself from his embrace as gently as possible. Eren was still deep in thought, hands falling to the cloud-like ground he was sitting on right now. You stood up and walked in front of him, bare feet were now within his eyesight.

He could touch you before, and it didn’t feel like he was hallucinating. He felt your kiss before, and it made him sure that it was real. Bewildered, he looked up only to find you looking forward. Even though he felt that he was finally free, he was still curious about what happened in this moment.

"What is this place?" He asked again, now a lot calmer than before as he gazed at your face which showed nothing but peace.

"A transit." You started, eyes never leaving the glowing sight in front of you. "A place where you are finally free, but still misplaced since it was not the last destination where you should go." He hummed, processing your words that still felt unreal.

"Then why are you here?" All this afterlife thing was so foreign for him. "Why don't you leave and go to your last destination?"

"Oh, boy, you really asking me that?" You chuckled softly, snickering as if that was the dumbest question that you ever heard. Your eyes finally cast down to face him, and when he still looked so confused, you could only let out a sigh. "Because I am waiting for you, Eren."

You smiled wistfully, extending your hand for him to take. "What else could it be at this point?" He took it as he nodded at your answer. You helped him up, letting him stand by himself. And now as he looked around the endless clouds, he could finally embrace the fact that he was indeed — dead.

Anywhere he looked, he could only find the soft, white clouds refreshing the air. The colour was tinted orange as the sun in front of him shone like it would set anytime soon. But it had been perhaps minutes by now, and yet the colour never changed.

If he was finally here to feel his freedom, then he would take it. The world where he lived before was not his responsibility anymore. His friends had won, and it was not his place to ask for what happened next. Yes, he was ready to be free. But as he looked at you, he still had one, unanswered question that he needed to know.

"Hey, (Y/n)." He cleared his throat, melancholy striking his feature as your gaze met with his.

"Yes, Eren?"

How come you are here on his side? Why did you stay in this place alone just to wait for him? He killed you, why are you not running away? There was so much, so many questions that he never dared to ask you. But one, he needed to know the answer to this one question.

"Why don't you fight back when I try to kill you?"

You didn't flinch, you stood there with a neutral expression as if he just asked you if you had eaten before.

"Truthfully, Eren? I always thought that you were just trying to make me hate you. Looking at me with those cold eyes, tightening your grip like that." Your finger subconsciously went to your neck. "At first, I thought you were going to let me go at some point."

He could feel a lump start forming in his throat as he listened, tears were threatening to fall already. That was what you felt that night, you didn’t want to die. Of course, who in the right mind wanted to die? Let alone killed by someone that you loved.

"But as seconds passed and you were not loosening the grip, I understood." Then you continued, your hand now fell back to your side. Though, you still looked at him with earnestness written all over your face. "I understand that you had to kill me for a reason, that you knew it was for the best."

His breath hitched at your statement; which was supposed to make him feel guilty, to make him feel like he was not worthy of your faith. But with how there was no ill will nor sadness in your intonation, he couldn't feel any other feelings except — relief.

"So I believed in you, and I wanted you to know until the end that wherever I go next, I will always devote my heart to you."

You said it without doubt, as if you have been saying the same thing over and over again throughout your life. Yet somehow he could know that it was the truth. Perhaps you said that inside your heart for all the times that you spent with him.

While you still alive, you have put your faith in him, following him anywhere he goes. No one could sway your belief, you were devoted solely just to him. You praised his name, never leaving his side under any circumstances.

And he realised — that was the way you said you loved him.

So now, it was his time to do the same, to believe in you.

"Come on, Eren." You dusted the non-existent wrinkles on your clothes before extending your hand for him to take, a smile never leaving your face as you waited for him patiently. "Let's go home."

And without wasting another second, without any hesitation, he reached for your hand. The smile on your face widened at this, and the wind suddenly twirled around the two of you. He didn't know where home was, he didn't know where you would take him.

But as you started to walk in the direction of the sun, he followed. His eyes looked forward, dark green eyes turned into the emerald shade that was gone before. It was so beautiful, how he walked above the clouds, with your hand around his, guiding him to a new place called home.

Your laugh resonated in his ears as he caught up with you, gripping your hand tighter, afraid that he would lose you if he loosened up. Yet somehow he knew that he wouldn't have to be scared anymore.

Now he was finally free. From the burden on his shoulders, from the duty that was thrown at him by his ancestors, from the endless nightmare that he saw on each vision — it was all gone. And as his gaze fleeted toward your running form, he blinked in astonishment.

He saw you, a younger self of you perhaps, maybe when you were nine or ten. You looked beautiful, even with your hair slightly shorter, with chubby, adorable cheeks. Then you turned to face him, and he saw those glossy beads filled with purity.

And inside those, he saw a reflection. Of a boy not older than ten years old, with a brown outer and a sage green shirt, holding on to someone. Oh, it was him. He looked so free as he ran side by side with you, he looked so free with you leading him to his new home.

Laughter filled the air that surrounded you and him; high-pitched, carefree laughter that people would hear when children ran around the street to catch one another. That happy laugh slipped from both of your lips.

He held your hand tighter, not because he was afraid to lose you, but so he could feel your love even more. He ran with you faster, now becoming the one who followed you as he believed that you were going to take him somewhere, to the last destination.

A place where he could finally be free.

With you.

↪Back to Wall Maria

↪Citizen; @queenofcurse

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

#eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren yaegar #eren x y/n #eren angst #eren jeager x reader #eren aot #aot x reader #aot imagines #aot x y/n #aot #shingeki no kyojin imagine #shingeki no kyoujin #snk x reader #snk #eren imagines #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager imagines