i can't wait until i can get my own apartment :)

hands to yourself | dilf bradley bradshaw x nanny!reader (18+)

surprised with an afternoon to himself, bradley takes advantage of the alone-time, thinking about the woman he can’t have.

warnings: shameless pwp, bradley is down bad for his nanny and hasn’t touched himself — or anyone — in a long ass time. masturbation, pining, swearing, fantasising about oral and such. voyeurism, kinda, he gets walked in on. I may write a part two for this but idk yet. I just needed to write a lil smth about him touching himself. Wc: 3k

this is the lingerie set I was thinking of but imagine whatever ya like x

…

Bradley drops his keys into the bowl by the door, they land with a stark rattle. The faint tan-line between his brows disappears into the crease that caused it as he frowns. He looks towards the stairs, and then wanders in the living room. His boots tap softly against the floor.

“Kids?” He calls out into the unfamiliar quiet.

Nothing. His eyes widen in slight panic, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair as he looks around him. The floor is spotless — their toys are stored neatly in their bins, there aren’t any new stains on his rug, and there aren’t any cartoons on his television.

The sound of his boots on the ground are unnerving; he can’t bring himself to admit that he misses the sounds of chaos he usually returns to. He wanders through the house, making a beeline for the backyard. Sunny day like this, he figures that’s where he’ll find them.

Nothing. The yard is completely empty beside the laundry hanging out to dry. His mouth feels dry.

Once the mid-day mind fog dissipates, Bradley’s panic starts to, too. That birthday party. You’d mentioned it twice this week already, and once this morning. He’s just forgetful at the minute — — you know how crazy work has been for him.

He pauses, standing in his unusually clean living room, and purses his lips. His hands come to rest on his hips while he looks around him. He isn’t used to this.

Usually, within seconds of him walking through the door, he’s got a kid attached to his leg or a fight to break up or a permission slip to sign.

There’s nothing that he needs to do.

Nothing urgent.

Nobody else home.

Lifting his wrist, he takes a quick glance down at his watch and considers what to do with his sudden freedom. Birthday parties take a couple of hours, right?

He takes one final look around him, his eyes catching on the laundry drying outside. Clipped to the line is a power-blue balconette bra. He’s seen it before. The day he accidentally walked in on you.

Since you moved in four months ago, Bradley has been especially careful about knocking first. He wishes he could say it’s because he’s a gentleman. Really, it’s just because it made it hard enough for him to keep his hands to himself the first time.

There had been a heatwave that week. You had the afternoon off but Bradley hadn’t been able to find the sunscreen, and his kids are damn near impossible to keep out of the sunlight. With them arguing downstairs and trying to figure out the lock to let themselves out, he just wasn’t thinking and he hadn’t knocked.

“Hey, do you know where you put the—“ He’d stopped, frozen, taking in the sight of you sprawled across your bed. His bed. The bed he gave to you when you got the job of living here. A red popsicle between your lips and a book propped open in front of you, wearing nothing but a powder-blue set.

“Oh—“ Your eyes had gone all wide and surprised, too shocked to move, just like him.

The only thing that reminded him that he even had the option to move was the sound of his son running up the stairs to hurry this process along. He had slammed the door shut, blushing furiously, and turned to face his eldest.

“Found it, dad! It was in my backpack.” Grinning, he had held up the bottle of sunscreen and Bradley had just been forced to continue with his afternoon like he hadn’t seen anything at all.

When he finally peels his eyes away from the line of drying clothes outside, his gaze lands on the basket of dried and folded laundry sitting on his kitchen counter ready to be put away. Sitting right on top, is a glossy looking pair of blue panties that match the bra on the line.

Bradley’s already been kicking himself for his behavior since you got here. It’s downright shameful, the things he lets himself think about you. You’re half his age, first off. Second -- he’s your boss. You live in his house. His kids think you’re their best friend.

They think you’re just here because you love hanging out with them so much, not because their mommy and daddy couldn’t get along for the life of them and daddy works too much.

His mouth waters. Staring at some blue lace in a laundry hamper and his mouth’s practically watering. He’s pathetic. His guy friends keep telling him he needs to get back in the game, start moving on — he hadn’t been so sure. But then, he’s never almost popped a hard-on over a thong in a pile before.

He can picture you so perfectly in them. Your round ass barely covered by the material, legs kicked up behind you and your ankles crossed. When he closes his eyes, he can picture you facing the other way. Your face toward the headboard, your ass right in front of him.

His slacks grow tighter as his neglected cock stirs to life. It occurs to him that he can’t remember the last time he jerked off. Maybe sometime before his middle kid got the flu? — Around a month ago, maybe. His nights since then had been primarily spent clearing up puke.

The sad part is, the thought only tends to occur to him when he’s at work. Home is always far too hectic. For a while now, he’s been stuck working late into the night with a boner while he’s flicking through candidate paperwork and flight logs.

Well, he’s thinking about it now, and he’s got the place all to himself. No locking himself in the bathroom and letting the shower run, trying to think of anything but the growing list of chores he has to do to keep this house functioning.

He swallows thickly.

He’ll tell the guys that they’re right. He needs to get back into the game; get his head on right, stop pining over his nanny. Tomorrow. For now, he lifts his hand and takes the underwear, smoothing the sheer mesh between his index and thumb. Closing his eyes, he hopes that you won’t notice they’re gone before he can return them.

He twists the cap off of an ice cold beer, leaves his boots neatly by the door and walks calmly upstairs. From there, he clicks his bedroom door shut and steadily takes himself out of his uniform, dropping it into his laundry hamper.

Finally, he settles down against his headboard with his phone in his hand and your panties in his lap.

Porn will make this better. It’s less weird if he’s not necessarily picturing your face. It’s not — but he might have a better chance at looking you in the eye later if he tells himself that.

Not that any of this feels exactly regular.

He inhales and shifts, and scrolls. Birds are still tweeting outside, singing early afternoon songs. His teeth nip at the inside of his cheek as he scrolls aimlessly until he finds a thumbnail that looks halfway doable.

All alone, the house feels especially quiet when the first moan spills from the speakers. He flinches at the sound and scrambles for the volume button, then hesitates. He doesn’t have to be quiet. He doesn’t even have to be ashamed. Shit, it’s a little late for that.

His brows knit together a bit, cocking his head as he examines the babbling girl on the phone screen. His hand stirs to life from where it had gone limp on his thigh, finding his cock through the grey fabric of his boxers. With one last cautious glance to his closed bedroom door, the silence beyond it confirms to him that he’s okay.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he strokes himself over the material. The video isn’t particularly interesting, not when Bradley’s head can fill itself with far more interesting material at whim. His mind starts to wander back to that dream he’d had of you in the nurses outfit— that one had hit him hard, literally. He could barely look in your direction without getting hard for two days.

Soon enough, he’s hard and straining against the briefs. But that’s thinking about you, and that’s not allowed. He shifts restlessly and goes back to scrolling, palming himself absently. Finally, he comes across a video that sparks something. The thumbnail is of a girl with swollen lips and a cock in her mouth. It’ll do.

There we go. He huffs, that red-hot desperate feeling spreading down his neck and covering his shoulders. Making like it’s going to swallow him whole. Bradley lifts his hips to shuck down his boxers, tucking the waistband under his balls, still prepared for a hasty recovery at the sound of the garage door opening or something. He glances down at himself, remembering the days his thighs were narrower and more taut and he wasn’t noticing grey in his pubes.

If he wanted this done quick and fast, he’d spit hard into the centre of his palm and get to work. It’s been a long time since it hasn’t had to be quick. He thinks he has— he turns a bit and pulls open the drawer of his bedside table, rummaging blindly at the back until he comes up with what he’s looking for — lube. It’s practically full, not like he has been using it much.

A drop in the middle of his hand is enough, he figures. Turning his attention back to this new video, he settles, cupping the weight of his shaft in the palm of his hand. He gives it one slow pump, following the length, coating himself a bit. Real slow, his eyes study the screen, working the lubricant against his skin.

The actress bobs her mouth around the on-screen cock enthusiastically, moaning around him, raking her fingertips along his thighs. He locks his fist around himself, warm and tight, wet. It’s not a mouth but it’s the closest he has felt in a long time. If he closes his eyes, it could be your mouth.

You’d take him slowly, at first, ease him into it with that taunting nature you’ve let him glimpse at. He wouldn’t close his eyes; wouldn’t take ‘em off you. His hand steadies into a lazy rhythm, picturing the way you’d look up at him through your lashes.

The way you’d suck, and flick your tongue across his swollen tip. He shivers as he swipes his thumb through the precum beading there, stroking it all the way back down, stuck on imagining what it would feel like with your saliva joining the mix.

A pleased, feminine hum of approval comes from his phone and Bradley’s body responds just as eagerly, his hips twitching into the thrust of his palm. Sweat beads at his forehead as he slows to the point of almost stopping, dragging this out — making a point of exploiting his time alone.

He blinks hazily and finds a glimpse of blue, remembering suddenly the souvenir he had taken. The pitiful scrap of fabric he’s so wound up over sits against his thigh, looking suddenly small in comparison to his cock. He lets himself go and grabs hold of the fabric firmly, balling it tightly in his fist.

The soft lace bristles at his palm. Freshly laundered, they don’t smell of anything but detergent. It plays to the weaker side of him, gnawing at him, leaving him desperate to have something beyond what’s in his head. To know your smell, your tastes, your sounds. He shudders as he wraps a hand snugly around himself once more, this time, with an added layer of lace and soft mesh.

His head falls backwards, mouth hanging. Like this, it’s even easier to pretend. The image of you straddling his thighs, rocking your pussy against him while wearing nothing but these has him finally relaxed. Zen, even. A groan dies in his through, coming out more as a deep and baited sigh. He lift his hips, fucking into his fabric tangled fist.

Sometime between picking up your panties and now, the video has moved on without him, the blowjob forgotten. If he was to open his eyes, he would find that she’s on her back, being fucked into a mattress. He doesn’t need to. Stars burst behind his eyelids as he steadies up to the rhythm of her moans, skin hitting skin.

You’ve been living here four months now and you haven’t stayed out once. He wonders if you’re as wound up as he is. If you’ve thought about him the way he thinks of you. How downright desperate you’d sound moaning against his pillows while he finally gets to feel you. His left hand jumps, grabbing a firm fistful of the sheets beside him.

The shame he feels has been checked at the door, he lets himself think that you might have looked at him, that you might want him. He chases the feeling, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. Pumping the blue mesh around his cock, imagining you rocking yourself on him. Something gentler, more spry. It feels good. You’d feel good.

His imagination is better than he gave himself credit for.

His wrist twitches and he slows, feeling his thighs tighten as his heels press into his mattress for leverage. He chokes out a sound that he won’t admit is closer to a whimper than anything else, panting hard as he lets the rush ebb a bit. Pursing his lips, he draws out a slow exhale.

His mouth hangs open, eyes dipping to watch himself loosen up with the material, finding himself with just his bare palm once again. He takes the blue fabric in his left, opening it up and examining the dampened marks of his precum and the lube.

Just like that, he’s back in the guest room — your room — and you’re wearing that blue set. It’s dampened like this, but not because he has made a mess of it, not yet. Because you have. You’re soaking through it, looking up at him with that awe-struck look on your face. Your mouth open wide but this time there’s no red popsicle.

“Fuck.”

“Shit.” You whisper, catching the diaper bag that had almost fallen from your shoulder as you cradle the sleeping infant against your chest. Quiet as a mouse, you click open the front door and toe off your shoes.

She’s dead-weight in your arms, probably drooling on your shoulder. Her two older siblings will be causing all kinds of mischief and consuming sugar in all of its forms at their cousin’s birthday party for the next three hours. Given that the party lines up almost exactly with the fifteen-month-old’s nap routine, you figured you would take her home to rest so that you could get around to putting away that laundry you had started.

You’ve got a thousand things on your mind. A million things to do before Bradley gets home that evening. Truthfully, you’re a thousand miles away as you stroll upstairs and walk to the far end of the hall to the nursery. You lay her down and adjust the baby monitor, setting up her white noise machine routinely.

Her bedroom door clicks shut behind you and you take a moment to consider your priorities. Laundry takes precedence, even though you want so desperately to crawl into bed and sleep for an hour. You huff, groaning to yourself as you walk back downstairs to find the basket you had abandoned.

As you round the stairs and walk through the hallway, a choked sound spills from under the wood of Bradley’s door, something deep and breathless. Already halfway to the kitchen, you don’t hear a thing.

The video stopped a while ago but Bradley had stopped watching it even earlier. His head is thrown back and his lips are parted, his features creased in concentration as he chases his high. He thrusts into his fist, white-knuckling your panties with his free hand, his heart thundering in his chest. “God, fuck.”

He doesn’t have a clue that he isn’t alone anymore. He didn’t hear the minivan, he didn’t hear the front door. He doesn’t hear you rush back up the stairs with the hamper hiked against your hip.

He walked in on you. He stopped, and he stared. You were interrupted, so you can’t blame him for slamming the door shut. He’d missed, or ignored the signals since. The looks, the touches, staying up with him until your eyelids are so heavy that they’re barely open because he’s kind of an insomniac. Nothing. You’ve been beyond curious, desperate to know if he has been blowing you off on purpose or if he’s just clueless.

Clueless yourself, armed to put away freshly folded t-shirts, you grab the door handle and push it open. He works late, always. He’s rarely home before bedtime on work days. He told you this morning that he’d try not to wake you when he came in. And yet — there he is.

You get a glimpse of him before he registers the click of the door, before he spots you. Brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut, his curls dampened and hugging his forehead. Sunlight catches on the beads of sweat as they trail his glistening middle, spilling across his strong, softened middle. Broad shoulders flexed, the veins in his right arm straining through the skin, fucking his palm.

He reacts quickly, but there’s little that can be done. His eyes spring open and his hand releases himself, his body flushing a deeper shade of red at once. Thighs spread, he doesn’t have much time to cover himself before the door whips shut again.

You press your back to the door, staring at the ceiling. On either sides of it, you each have a moment of silent consideration.

“… are you okay?” He asks weakly.

He gets a soft squeak of acknowledgement as an answer and starts to wonder how you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. God, he hopes you don’t quit. The kids love you, and you’re incredible, you make his life liveable. His mind races, trying to come up with some kind of way to fix what you just saw. Everyone masturbates, it’s normal, it’s healthy—

“Was— Was that my underwear?”

Shit, Bradley thinks, he’s done for. There’s no coming back from this. You’re going to tell every nanny in the state that he’s a creep and work is going to eat him alive while he tries to juggle three kids alone. He curses breathlessly, fixing his underwear to cover himself and pushing himself out of bed.

He’s stuck for a second, considering if it would be better to give you time or to go after you. His eyes widen as the door clicks again, and pushes slowly open.

Your eyes rake over him, standing tall at the foot of his bed in nothing but his boxer-briefs. Still, regrettably, balled into his left hand, is your underwear. Powder-blue. He follows your gaze and looks down at the fabric, cursing his own stupidity, wondering if it’s too late to drop them.

You wet your lips with your tongue as your gaze flickers across. He closes his eyes and wills it to go away — he had just been so close, so caught up in it. It’s still rock hard, straining against the grey fabric, dampened at the tip with a spot of precum.

All of those signals and efforts come to a head. After four months of pining, you can’t just wander downstairs like this never happened. Laundry can wait. “You want a hand?”

…

tags: @royal-sunflower @redbarn1995 @atarmychick007 @jessicab1991 @seitmai @bellaireland1981 @roosterbruiser @tenderly-hopeful-collection @bradshawsbaddie @tgmavericklover @cevansbaby-dove @lyn-js @mynameismckenziemae @perpetuelledaydreaming @diorrfairy @sparklehippie17 @heatherbabees @prettiewittie @forgiveliv @oleksiak-pettersson @illegalxhood @fantasticpeacestarfish @rockstxr-x @d0main-expansion @diorsmores @mydarlingrose @sticksticklettuxe @alrightyyaphrodite @bowchickawowowww @aquafairy777 @eternallyvenus @maxwell-era @devil-angel-winchester @roosterishot @rosiahills22 @literally-iconic @brinaaa10 @foggyturtleknightangel @a-serene-place-to-be @aragorn-02 @sunflowercharlie13

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Emptiness

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: You are dead, and Leon wonders why he is still alive.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, long one-shot, leon is suicidial, suicide attempt!!, leon is depressive, MAJOR ANGST, abuse of alcohol, some usage of y/n, cigarettes/smoking, leon is a mess, SAD SAD SAD!!!, leon is suffering a lot, lots of pain, NO HAPPINESS!, dates in italic count since reader's death

Author's Note: idk, except i am sorry i like to make the characters i love suffer and share that on the internet? i made my husband read this, and he doesn't care about leon whatsoever, and he ended up upset for him at the end so you can imagine how this goes. i have more happy leon's fanfics, you can check it out here!

PLEASE, PROCEED CAREFULLY, AS THIS FANFIC DESCRIBES SUICIDE, SUICIDE ATTEMPT, DEPRESSION, AND ALCOHOLISM.

If you have been struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, you are NOT alone! Here is a link for tumblr support for some helpful information, depending in what country you are! Seek help, you are loved, you are strong, you are wanted!

3 months, 27 days, 3 hours, 5 minutes

The first thing Leon notices when he wakes up is that he is cold. He isn't wearing a shirt, and for some reason, the blankets covering his body look dirty with some unknown substance. He groans, throwing the blanket on the floor. He still wears the jeans from last night, has no shirt on, and doesn't smell well.

The second thing he hears is his phone's ringtone. It had to be Chris. Or Claire wondering if he is alive. He sits up, his hand rubbing his face as a way to make the headache less.

The third thing Leon notices is his hand resting in the empty space of the bed. Your empty space on the bed. He gulps because he hasn't touched that part since returning to the house. He raises his hand as if Leon contaminated the area, the last pieces he had of you.

Leon glimpses under your pillow a very familiar black shirt. One of the ones he gave to you. Leon doesn't remember grabbing it last night. He holds it, checking if he got dirty, but the shirt seems clean. Leon takes the shirt to his nose, smelling it. 

His phone rings a second time breaking his trance. He gets up from the bed and sighs when he sees the nightstands filled with beer cans. You would have hated that.

When he finally finds his phone on the bathroom floor, Leon's headache worsens when he sees Chris's name.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck Leon, I was on my way to your house right now. You scared me, man."

"What do you want?" Leon isn't in the mood to talk, especially with Chris.

"Claire told me she went by your house last night, and you weren't there. She says the motorcycle wasn't there. Have you been drinking and driving again?"

Leon rolls his eyes. As if drinking and driving was a big problem for him now.

"Okay, mom, if that is all, then."

"Look," Chris sighs, and there is a long pause before he speaks again. "There is a mission. If you are still interested."

Finally, Leon thinks. He has been begging for one for weeks now, and Chris has always said "no," "next time," or "we shall see" due to his mental health situation.

"Yeah. When?"

"I will send you more details when I have it. Look, Leon, I just don't think you should—"

Leon hangs up without letting Chris finish. He scrolls through his lost calls, mostly all of them being from Chris and Claire. A few from Jill when she was trying to help. It got too much for her as well. Leon scrolls down even longer, finally finding your name.

Almost four months ago. Has it been that long? Two last calls.

As a ritual he repeats every morning, Leon clicks on your name, hearing the call go straight to voice mail. Precisely as he wanted.

Hi, this is Y/N, you tried to reach me, but I can't take your call now! Leave me a voice message, and I will contact you as soon as possible!

Beep.

-x-

 4 months

Jill Valentine is sitting in front of Leon inside the jet. She hasn't looked at him once inside the plane as they are being taken to a contamination site. Her eyes are distant, her form is tense, and Leon maybe thinks that time can't cure it all.

"Preparing to land," They hear in their radio communications. Leon rechecks his gun, wondering without significant interest if any of that would ever end. When he looks up, Jill is observing him.

"You ready for this?" She asks with a mild tone of curiosity in her voice.

You knew Jill longer than you knew Leon, actually. You were her best friend before becoming his lover. Jill had given Leon all the solemn talk of "Don't fuck up with my best friend, or I will kill you." After your passing, Jill had become somewhat like a ghost in his life. She tried, Leon wonders, if not for you, to give him support in the first two weeks, but Leon knew deep down she blamed him.

And she was right.

"Yeah," He answers.

Jill nods. The last time she had seen Leon, he was miserable. With the longest beard Leon has ever had, bloodshot eyes, hair a mess, drunk, and the smell of cigarettes around the house. She told herself she would try for you, but it wasn't easy to see Leon like that. And after she said you would hate it if he smoked inside their house and Leon grunted that you were dead and never coming back, she left without looking twice.

She never understood why Chris and Claire continued. Maybe because they knew him longer than they knew you.

The plane finally lands in a safe space, and they exit. It is in an abandoned industrial area this time, and they might have survivors who live nearby and might need help.

"Do not fuck this up," Jill warns.

"I won't."

-x-

1 month, 1 week, 2 days, and 5 hours

Claire Redfield is knocking on Leon's door. It is way past dinner time, but she brings pizza. From your favorite place. Claire knows he won't have eaten anything since Chris kept telling her Leon is losing weight. Since your death, Claire has tried to help Leon out as much as she could because she knows that is what you would have wanted, to no avail.

"Come on, Leon, I have pizza! I know you haven't eaten today!" She announces.

That's when her sixth sense starts beeping. All house lights are off, which is strange: Leon either left the TV or any light on. Leon didn't like the darkness. Claire tries to open the door but is locked. Leon never locked the door since he was back for this house. With her heart racing, Claire goes to her bag and grabs the reserve key. She shares one with Chris, and they both trade every week. Leon doesn't seem to care, not that he cares about many things lately.

She enters the apartment to complete silence. No sight of him anywhere.

"Leon?" Her voice is distant, as her hands are looking for her gun. Maybe someone invaded and got him? Perhaps something else—?

The air escapes from Claire's lungs when she sees Leon. Hanging from the ceiling.

"Leon!" She screams, running fast to hold his legs. She doesn't know what she is doing, she is calling for help, she is trying to get a chair, she is trying to hold his legs up so he can breathe. Claire doesn't dare to look up.

With one sudden decision, Claire gets her gun and shoots three times at the rope. Leon's body drops, and he is pale as a ghost. She kneels near him, feeling his pulse. There is still one, very light, but there is one.

Without thinking twice, Claire starts CPR, Stayin' Live by Bee Gees, in her head. She knows Leon will hate her for this, but she can't fail this. She would have hated herself, you would have hated her.

"Come on, Leon, come on." She begs desperately as she compresses his chest with all her strength. When Leon finally breathes, a small vigorous one, Claire is sweating on her clothes. She sighs, relieved, sitting down on the floor, drained.

She grabs her bag and finds her phone to call the emergency number, asking for an ambulance. That her friend attempted suicide. She gives them Leon's address, checking for his breathing. When Leon opens his eyes, he is confused. The last thing he remembers is kicking the chair away, the air escaping slowly from his lungs. He looks around, finding Claire's face in his peripheral view. She seems to be crying, her hands on his chest.

His blue eyes find hers, and Leon looks with hatred in her direction for the first time that Claire doesn't recognize him. She feels tears form in the corner of her eyes, and her lips shake, but she holds them back.

"I have called an ambulance," Her voice shakes, and Leon's stare carries so much weight that she must look away.

-x-

1 month, 3 weeks, 8 hours, 2 minutes. 

The hospital door opens, and Leon exits, carrying his duffel bag. After staying confined for almost two weeks, he inhales the fresh air. Those two weeks, instead of helping, just made him feel worse. Much worse. With no alcohol, no cigarettes, nothing, Leon had no way to forget. He woke up and went to sleep with your face on his mind.

Going through what he did wrong. What he could have done right.

He feels the pain sting his soul, thinking about your smile. Fuck, he needed a drink. He needed some sort of dubious mixed-up cocktail. The stronger, the better. When he looks to his left, he sees Chris Redfield standing.

Sighing, he walks toward Chris. Leon knows he won't be able to run away. Chris has a worried stare as he gets closer. To be honest, Leon thought he should have hated after what he did to Claire, but no, Redfield still manages to give him a small smile when Leon gets close.

"Hey."

"Who told you I was going to leave?"

"Mhm, the hospital? You are in my care for the next couple of weeks."

"I am going home." Leon starts to walk away from him, but Chris's arm stops him.

"No, you are not. As I said, you are in my care. And if I need to drag you to my car and make a scene in front of all those people, I will. What do you think?"

Leon hates how Chris can look like you so much regarding his care. Always to drastic measures, you both could say. Pretending to have given up, Leon holds his hands up as a sign of defeat and follows Chris to his car.

"Is...Claire okay?" Leon mutters as Chris starts the car. Leon can see Chris hold the wheel stronger than he should, but the moment passes, and Chris answers.

"She is worried sick about you. She has been...busy, that is all."

Leon knows that is a lie. He had seen Claire on one of the visitations day, and she seemed upset like she had been crying every day since she found him. Leon felt guilty Claire was finding him (he thought someone else would) and was outraged when she saved him. And he ended up lashing out at her. When Claire tried to argue during the visitations that is what you would have wanted, Leon roared that he never wanted to see her again.

To be honest, Leon is relieved. One less person for him to hurt. Chris, well, that one was hard. Leon knows he isn't giving up that easily. Especially after the last thing he said to you was that he would protect him during a mission.

"No, no, Chris, you don't understand, he bikes around without a helmet and thinks that is super cool? I mean, how old is he again? You better keep your eye on him, if I am not around. Got it?" You asked, winking in Leon's direction. He knew you were teasing him, but Chris's tone was serious when he answered.

"Loud and clear."

In the first three weeks after your death, Chris was there. He rummaged through the house, taking everything Leon could use to harm himself. Leon's guns were the first to go, Leon didn't know how he discovered the password, and honestly, he didn't care. He just woke up a day with them gone. Knives? Gone. It was like Chris was baby-proofing the house. 

Leon would have lost much more weight during that time if it wasn't for Chris insisting on him eating. Or hydrate. Warning if he got too weak to take care of himself, Chris would have made sure to strap him to a bed and kept him there against his will.

"There are cigarettes in the glove's compartment," Chris says, cutting his line of thought.

Leon looks at him with suspicion before opening. Chris wasn't lying. There is even a lighter there.

"You smokin' now?" Leon asks out of curiosity.

"No. I bought those for you."

Leon lights up a cigar, opening the window. The rest of the car ride goes silent, and when they finally arrive at Chris's house, he turns off the car, sighing.

"Look, Leon. I am not very good at this, and you know it. You will stay with me as long as you want, but I can't keep you a prisoner in my house."

Leon observes him, and Chris takes the courage to finally say it.

"No one wants you dead, Leon. What happened to Y/N, it wasn't your fault. And you need therapy."

Leon gives a humorless laugh, opening the door of the car.

"You are not bad at this, Chris. You are terrible at this."

-x-

4 months, 1 day, 5 hours

Ada Wong is good at her job. She does what she is paid to do when she needs to do it. No feelings attached, except, well, when Leon Kennedy is involved. It had been like this since the events during Raccoon City.

And then, suddenly, you appeared on his side during the events in Spain. You were something else, for sure. Standing by his side, remaining strong, although that was your first mission, or so Ada heard. And facing up her, determination in your eyes. Ada found you adorable, perfect for Leon. The loyalty, in your eyes, was something she could never demonstrate.

The man in front of her now was just what once was Leon Kennedy, her..."ally" from the other side. Ada had to admit she was shocked when she first saw him, barely recognizing him. Leon had big dark bags under his eyes, not as strong as he once was. And there was...no life in his once vivid blue eyes. Nothing.

"Ada Wong. Doing something for yourself again?" Leon asks, his voice monotone.

Ada was used to his hostility, mistrust, and even anger. But not that complete apathy, a complete lack of emotions. Leon Kennedy was dead, she was confident, and he died when you did.

"You know I don't share my secrets, big boy," She says, her tone the same as always. "But we can always find common ground, as we always do."

Leon nods, and Ada tells herself she shouldn't care, she shouldn't ask. But she has never seen it like this, and this Leon frightens her.

"I have heard about Y/N. My condolences."

Leon's eyes go wide with surprise. He looks at Ada as if she has just arrived from outer space.

"Is this one of your schemes? 'Cause if it is, cut the crap, I am not in the mood."

"It is not. I heard about what happened." Is Ada Wong really showing empathy? Leon blinks, surprised, but he shakes his head. No, it has to be one of her tricks. Since when did Ada start caring about him?

"Shut up, Ada. Do not mention this ever again. We are here for a mission, nothing else, nothing more. Stop pretending you fucking care." Leon's voice is low, and Ada doesn't say anything as she watches him walk in the dark corridor before her. She has known him long enough to know when he is being serious, and she knows he is threatening her life now.

Ada sighs. The Leon Kennedy she once knew, was gone. You left a carcass behind, a damaged man for the rest of his life. Ada still remembers the last thing she said to you, before she disappeared.

"You are truly special. Take care of him."

-x-

1 minute

"Is Mr. Leon Kennedy speaking?"

Leon stops when he answers his phone to a strange voice. 

"Yes? Who is this?"

"Mr. Kennedy, this is from McKenney Hospital. Could we speak with you in just a moment? Are you busy or driving?"

"No. Hospital, you say? What is going on?"

"We just need a moment of your time. Do you know Y/N L/N?"

Leon's heart starts bumping against his chest.

"Yes. What about it?"

"Y/N L/N was involved in a car crash today, sir. At this moment in time, they are doing surgery on them."

"What? No, excuse me, ma'am, this is some mistake."

The gentle voice behind the phone silences as she listens, Leon saying you weren't involved in an accident. It was impossible. You were coming to have dinner with him later, you were going to forgive him, you were going to be back together just fine. When Leon shuts up, the voice speaks again with much more compassion.

"You are tagged as their emergency contact, Mr. Kennedy. How long can you get in here—"

"I just fucking told you, lady, that is impossible, they are coming to have dinner with me, we are supposed to reconnect, and you aren't listening to me!" Leon screams the last part, punching the counter before him and making all the glass bowls in the counter jump. 

The compassionate voice waits to speak again in a much more determined tone.

"Mr. Kennedy, I suggest you come to the hospital, not alone. Come with a friend. We will answer all your questions and concerns when you get here. Just don't come alone."

Leon turns off the call, pissed. How can the lady be so stupid? He told her over and over again you were on your way to his house, your house. Leon had been cooking the whole night, preparing your favorite dinner. After that, he would never let you away from him ever again. He breathes deeply now, trying to ease the tremors on his hands, when he lets his eyes wander off to the TV, a news broadcast about a terrible accident that happened. Some drunk driver caused this accident that involved a with a truck oil tank, and five people were killed. Many injuries reported.

Without thinking twice, Leon grabs his motorcycle's keys.

He doesn't know how he got in one piece in the hospital. Something inside him tells him to call Jill, Claire, Chris, or someone, anyone, but he doesn't. The hospital's entrance is chaotic, with most victims being taken there since it was the closest location.

Leon asks your name to the front receptionist, and they say they are operating you now. The lady points to the waiting room area, where Leon waits. Leon had felt fear many times in his life, but nothing compared to this. He knew you were strong. Stronger than him, actually. You were brave. You were getting out of this.

Because he didn't know how to live without you.

Leon observed families getting good and bad news for what seemed an eternity. The death toll climbed to more two people, a mom crumble in the doctor's arms due to the loss of his son and husband. Leon was praying, begging for some higher force or anything for you to live.

He would never drink again. Leon Kennedy would never let the darkness inside him win and let you go. He would never doubt himself or his ability to love. No, Leon would love you even more intensely than he already did, more than anything in his life.

Leon takes a while to get up when the doctor finally calls his name. He feels sick, his stomach is twisting. He counts nine steps until he gets to the doctor, a lady with scrubs and an indecipherable face.  

"Mr. Kennedy, do you want me to take you to a more private room?"

"Tell me."

The doctor sighs, looking directly into his eyes when she says. 

"We did everything we could, Mr. Kennedy. I am sorry they didn't make it."

No. 

"I am sorry, Mr. Kennedy, I truly am."

No. NO! NO!

"Mr. Kennedy, please, don't, I am sorry. Can I get some help over here? Please, don't do this!"

It takes six or seven security guards to stop Leon from destroying the waiting room or even hurting someone. He is crying, he is begging, he is losing himself. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. It was unfair: not after everything he had done or everything you went through together. He always told you he needed to die first because Leon knew damn well he couldn't live without you. Leon has a hole in his chest that will never close again. He feels someone pull his sleeve up, a pinching sensation, and Leon falls into darkness. 

chores

pairing: Moon Boys x reader (mainly Marc)

warnings: none

summary: Marc is insecure because he struggles with household chores after you move in together.

word count: 1.3k

You moved in with the boys about two weeks ago. It was wonderful and you couldn’t be happier. You woke up next to one of the boys and went to bed next to one of them too. You got to see all of them every day now that you lived together and always had time in private. You had never felt more at home before you moved in with them. 

You and the boys were all settling into a domestic routine. Jake cooked. Steven did the laundry and dishes. You cleaned the house. Marc hadn’t figured out his place yet. One Sunday evening you had brought home a new dresser kit for the bedroom. Marc put the box on the floor of your bedroom. He started to open it. 

“You don’t have to build it now, baby,” you told Marc. You had seen Marc try to put together furniture before and it never went well. You had intended to wait for Jake to take care of it. 

“I can do it,” Marc said. 

“Just leave it,” you tried. “We can watch a movie.” Marc knew what you were doing. He knew he struggled with building furniture. He felt like he was failing at all of the domestic tasks. It made him feel like he wasn’t taking care of you well enough. He wanted to prove himself. 

“It’s fine, sweetheart. I’ll do it now,” Marc insisted. He spent the next four hours sitting on your bedroom floor hammering, screwing and unscrewing, tightening and loosening, but he couldn’t get the dresser together. You had been bugging him to leave it alone after the first hour. He refused to come to the table for dinner, Steven forcing his way into the body so that he could eat for Marc. 

You took a shower, brushed your teeth, and got into your pajamas. You read on your bed while Marc worked. You glanced over at the clock and realized it was almost 11:00. You put your book to the side and slid off the bed. Marc was still sitting on the floor. You came up behind him and put your hands on his shoulders, rubbing out the knots that had formed after hunching over the ground for so long. 

“Let’s go to bed. You can finish it in the morning,” you called. 

“We shouldn’t leave all the pieces loose on the floor. It could be dangerous,” Marc said. You sighed. 

“You’ve been trying for four hours, baby,” you said. 

“I can do it,” he said. 

“I know you can, honey,” you assured him. “But it’s late. I want to go to sleep and I want you in bed with me.” You kissed the top of his head. 

“I can’t go to bed if it’s not finished,” Marc said. You sighed. 

“Marc, baby, I want to go to bed. Please just let Jake do it,” you begged. Marc took a deep breath. 

“Fine,” he relented. A second later Jake was looking up at you from the floor. 

“I’ve got this, mi amor,” Jake said. “Don’t worry.”

“Thank you, querido,” you called. The dresser was finished in a little less than twenty minutes. 

“All done,” he said. Jake stood up, pushing the dresser next to his. He turned around to see you standing there. You leaned up on your toes and gave him a sweet kiss.

“Thank you,” you said. “Can I see Marc? I think he needs me.” Jake nodded. 

“He does,” Jake said. Marc took over the body again. He looked behind himself and saw the finished dresser. He sighed. He turned back to face you. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Marc said dejectedly. “I can’t seem to do anything right around here.” You gave him a sad smile. 

“Come sit with me, honey,” you took one of his hands and pulled him towards the bed. The two of you settled on the bed. Marc leaned against the headboard and you sat cross legged facing him from his side. His head was against the headboard, eyes looking up at the ceiling as he pouted. You reached out and took his hand in yours, giving it a squeeze. 

“You know that you do more than enough for the family, don’t you?” You asked. 

“I don’t do anything,” Marc said. “I can’t do anything.” 

“Baby, you do so much,” you said. Marc scoffed. 

“Do you know that you’re always the one who showers for Jake?” You asked. “And you always set the alarm when Steven has work. You put Jake’s keys back in the bowl when he forgets them in his pocket and whenever Steven loses his bus pass you always go get him a new one.” Marc still looked disappointed in himself. “When I was sick last week you were the one who got my medicine. You drew my bath and rubbed my shoulders,” you reminded him. 

“But–” Marc started to argue. 

“I know you have trouble doing chores, but you take care of us. You do things for the others that they don’t even realize. I’m sure you do things for me that I don’t notice either,” you said. “You do enough for our family, Marc,” you assured him. 

“It’s just…I feel like if I didn’t have them I wouldn’t be able to take care of you,” you said. 

“Honey, you know how to do the dishes and you’ve cooked for me before. You lived on your own for years. Just because we all have a little easier time with chores doesn’t mean you can’t do them,” you said. “You just don’t have to now. You have us. And we have you too.” 

“Is that enough? Me?” Marc asked. You gave him a soft smile as your heart broke in your chest. You knew he was insecure about himself. You didn’t know how to make it clear that he was enough. For you. For the family. For the world. You reached out and cupped Marc’s cheek in your hand. He leaned into your touch. 

“Marc, baby, you’re more than enough. You’re everything,” you said.

“You promise? You won’t leave if I can’t keep Jake and Steven around?” Marc asked. Your eyebrows furrowed together. 

“Leave? Marc, I would never leave you. Any of you. All of you,” you assured him. He nodded hesitantly. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I just never feel like I’m enough for you,” he admitted. You let out a small sigh. You rubbed your thumb against his cheek. 

“I know, baby,” you said. “But you are,” you told Marc. He nodded. He laid down, cuddling into your chest as you slid down the bed with him. You ran your fingers through his curls as he lay there, your other arm wrapping around his body. 

“I love you,” Marc said. You smiled softly. You knew why he was saying it. He wanted to hear it back from you. It wasn’t a problem for you. You would tell him every time he wanted to hear it. He didn’t need to say it back. Most of the time he didn’t have to ask. You turned your head to the side and kissed his forehead before whispering against his hair. 

“I love you more than anything, Marc,” you assured him. 

“Do you want to sleep with Steven?” Marc asked. “I know you haven’t seen him much today.” He would give every opportunity for you to choose someone else, purely because he didn’t think he deserved to be chosen. 

“I want you, Marc. Stay right here.” Marc nodded against you. 

“Don’t let me go,” he begged. You gave him a squeeze. 

“Never.”

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [1.2K]

You stared at the phone as if it were something dangerous.

The day was seeping into night outside, the sun dying, the sky turning indigo and violet. You shuffled from foot to foot, a hand reaching out to pick up the receiver before changing your mind and pulling back.

You clasped your hands to your chest instead, leaning your chin on them as you pouted, feeling terribly sorry for yourself. Dinner was done, the dishes cleaned, your bedroom too dark, the house too empty. Another two days until your parents returned from vacation, another forty eight hours of pretending that you were okay, that being alone at night didn’t make you feel like the only person left in the world.

‘Call me if you need anything,’ he’d said.

But that meant an emergency, right? Like a power cut or a demogorgon related incident. Or if someone had died. Right?

You hesitated, swore out loud at yourself and picked up the phone, the dial tone mocking you.

‘If you need anything.’

You stared at the numbers on the buttons, the muted blue plastic of the phone looking awfully sinister all of a sudden. But you groaned, squeezed your eyes shut for just a second and when you opened them again, you blew out a breath and punched in Steve Harrington’s number.

It rang once, twice. A horrible trill that made your heart pound and you paced the hallway carpet before stretching the cord long and sitting on the edge of the stairs with the cable wrapped around your ankle. Three times, four times, five times—

“Hello?”

Shit.

Your heart stopped. You swore it did, restarting with a new beat, faster this time, hard enough that it rattled your rib cage and suddenly you couldn’t speak.

Your mouth opened but your tongue felt a little too thick and god, you felt so stupid, why were you calling? What was the boy supposed to do?

“…Hey, Steve.”

You cringed, face scrunched up in embarrassment because you felt like a fool and everything was awful, because you were young with a crush and then, and then—

Steve said your name, warm and like a new kind of hello, voice much brighter than his first greeting. You heard him shuffle around, a soft swear away from the receiver.

“Hey, hi,” he cleared his throat, static through the line. “What’s up? Are you okay?”

You didn’t normally call Steve. In fact, you’d only gotten his number a week ago, when he found out your parents were leaving town and he scribbled it on your hand with a biro stolen from Family Video’s front desk. Most of your communication had been through crackled walkie talkies and fourteen year old children.

“Yeah!” You blurted out, too sharp, too fast. You winced, kicked the stair post in annoyance. “I’m fine, sorry, everything’s fine… I shouldn’t have called, I’m sorry,” you said again.

“Wait, wait, hey,” you heard faintly as you began to pull the phone away from your ear, face burning at how badly it had gone. You paused, held your breath and put the plastic back to the side of your head.

“…don’t go,” Steve huffed, “I’m glad you called.”

A new kind of warmth bloomed inside of you, like wildflowers between your ribs, messy and colourful and bursting from your bones. Your stomach flipped, an invisible rollercoaster that had you standing up and holding onto the bannister for support.

“You are?”

You heard Steve laugh, not meanly, a soft huff of air that made the line buzz and you could imagine his smile, the crinkle of his eyes.

“Yeah,” he told you, “I told you to, didn’t I?”

You shrugged before remembering he couldn’t see you, but that didn’t stop you from covering your face to hide your grin, giddy and wide. You felt like a schoolgirl, talking to that real pretty boy by your locker between classes.

“You did,” you agreed softly. “But I kinda thought you meant it in like, an emergency situation, kinda way, y’know?”

“What, you’re telling me your arm’s not getting chewed by a demogorgon right now?”

You grinned, unwinding the phone cord from around your leg, only to twirl it around your finger instead. God, you were so far gone.

“Oh no, it is,” you told him deadpan, “there’s blood everywhere. I just have an insane pain tolerance.”

Steve laughed, sharp and bright, a sticky sweet sound that reminded you of the summer day that had just left, leaving you in peach and rose coloured shadows.

“Good to know,” he hummed and there was a beat of silence, not at all uncomfortable. “So… why did you call? I’m assuming it wasn’t just to brag about how much of a badass you are.”

He said it gently despite the joke, a soft coaxing that assured you that you tell him the truth without the ground opening up to swallow you whole. And he sounded hopeful, you thought, like he was crossing his fingers and holding his breath like you were.

“Oh,” you cringed again, a hand over your face as you tried to garner the courage to come out with it. “Well, uh—”

It wasn’t like you were expecting outright rejection. Steve was your friend. He was. It just wasn’t the same way that Eddie was your friend, or Nancy or Robin, or even Peter from the grocery store that you always spoke to.

He looked at you a little differently, sometimes for a little too long, with his big, brown eyes, and really, was it even your fault that you felt the way you did when he looked like that?

You just weren’t sure if he felt the same way you did. Like a swarm of butterflies took over his insides when you accidentally touched, like his heart was going to push its way out of his chest when you were alone.

Steve broke you out of your stupor by saying your name again, soft and gentle.

“Shit, um. Um, I was just calling,” you swallowed, your throat filled with broken glass and no confidence. “I was calling to see if you wanted to hang out? Maybe— maybe go to the cinema… if it weren’t a Sunday in a town where everything shuts down. Shit.” You groaned, hating yourself, hating Hawkins.

But Steve laughed again and you could hear the smile on his face when he spoke.

“Or I could come round to yours?”

Shit. Oh shit.

“If you wanted,” he added, voice a little panicked.

“Uh, yeah,” you whispered, eyes wide, hand gripping the receiver like a lifeline. Your heart was beating like a hummingbird, like a tiny little bird on some sort of fucking crack cocaine, there was no other way to describe it. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

Oh my god.

“Cool,” Steve breathed out, relief and something else colouring his tone. Excitement? Relief? “I’ll come round in about an hour? I’ll grab some movies?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you told him, trying to sound cool and relaxed and totally pulled together.

You were very much not cool, relaxed nor pulled together. Your stomach was somersaulting.

“Great, right, okay,” the boy said, “it’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” you repeated, nodding to no one but yourself. You felt dizzy.

And then Steve said his goodbyes and the phone clicked and the dial tone buzzed. You dropped the receiver back into its cradle and pushed your hands to your face, grinning until your cheeks hurt and you yelled.

Starting over 2

Warnings: mentions past relationship trauma, protected sex, oral (f receiving), and fingering. I think that’s all if I missed any let me know

~

The next couple weeks you were the happiest you’ve been in a long time. You haven’t seen your roommate in a while since you’ve been sleeping over at Josh’s. Not that you really wanted to see her. Considering how she was always ditching you for a guy. Canceling your plans for a guy. Bringing you places then leaving you for a guy. You’ve been waiting to break away for a while, but after your breakup she was all you had. You’re glad you met Josh or you would’ve been in the same situation as him that night. Even though she’s technically the reason you met Josh, but he’s the only good thing that’s came out of that friendship.

You were afraid of bothering him, and everyday you offered to go back to your house. Give him a break from you, but everyday he’d say “I don’t mind”

“Josh I think I’m gonna head home. I don’t wanna bother you”

“Oh I don’t mind. I enjoy your company. Coffee?”

“Josh do you think I should go home? It’s been a week I’ve gotta be getting on your nerves”

“I don’t mind darling. You don’t bother me at all”

I when you finally decided to run home he called you. He woke up alone for the first time in weeks. You texted him saying that you were gonna run home before work. He didn’t mind until you mentioned you were sleeping at your place. He called immediately worried that he did something wrong. You were already stressed trying to get ready, but answered the phone.

“Josh I’ve got work what’s up?”

“I noticed you left, and I got your text. Why aren’t you coming back?”

“Well I figured since I’ve been practically living at your house. I would go home, and give you a break. I’ll come back I was just giving you some space”

“Oh. Did you need a break?”

“No, but I just thought maybe you did. I was also worried that you were too kind to kick me out”

“I was quite satisfied with our arrangement. It feels strange to be alone”

“Why do you talk like that?” You giggled over the phone. “Just say you miss me like a normal person, and your not alone you live with Jake”

“Okay I miss you, and I hope you change your mind. Also Jake doesn’t count. There happy?”

“Yes. Why don’t you come to my place after I get off?”

“Really?” He said sounded a bit giddy. He cleared his throat trying to play it off.

“Yeah silly. My roommate won’t be home either. That means we’ll finally be alone”

You hung up the phone quickly shocked at yourself. Josh almost choked on his coffee, and tried to keep himself busy. He waited and he waited. He debated on showing up to your work to bring lunch, but didn’t want to run you away.

“Josh what the hell are you doing?” Jake said after watching Josh do everything, but quite literally accomplishing nothing.

“I’m cleaning what’s it look like?”

“It looks like you’re a mad man. You’ve vacuumed like four time, and that spot your scrubbing. You’ve cleaned at least twice. Why are you so frantic?”

“I’m just waiting for her to get off work. I’m going to her place tonight”

“Oh”

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”

“It’s gonna be weird without her here tonight that’s all” Jake said trying not to be nonchalant. However when you’re as close as those two they can’t hide it.

“Why do you care Jake?”

“I don’t”

“Oh but you do. Jake I swear don’t you dare-”

“Chill out. I’m just saying she’s been here for a while, and it will feel weird because we’re all used to her being here. That’s all Joshua”

“I just afraid of you pulling your shit again”

“That was a long time ago. It almost tore us apart, so calm down and go get ready. She gets off in an hour”

“I really like her Jake. Can’t you see that?”

“I know Josh I know. Just go”

Maybe one day they will tell you about their first love. The woman that almost ruin the twins. The girl that they both fell for, fought for, and loved. She wasn’t the best to them, and when she got bored she left them both. It was only then they promised to never let a woman come between them. Maybe it was just teenage love, but to them she was everything. Now they resent her with everything they have.

~

Josh knocked on your door and with flowers in hand. He was dressed far too nice to be chilling at home. You decided your low rise sweats, and a cropped shirt would be lovely.

“Hi Josh” you smiled opening the door. “Oh my gosh you didn’t have to do all that”

“It’s for you. You look very pretty. Your eyes are sparkling dear”

You realized in that moment this was the first time someone has genuinely saw beauty in you. Not lust, or “hot”, or drunken compliments. He truly thinks you’re beautiful inside and out.

You didn’t know how to respond to a compliment like that. You studdered and began to embarrass yourself. Your face turned bright red, and you lost your words.

“Did I leave ya speechless?” He giggled at you being so flustered.

“I’ve just never had anyone do anything like this. Im very sorry I don’t know how to respond” you laughed. Trying to play it off as if your love life wasn’t sad and traumatic. Except he already knew he saw right through.

“Kiss me ?”

“Seems appropriate” you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. His arm gently held your waist. While his hand rested softly on your face. With both your faces being bright red you welcomed him in. You showed him around your small home. He was very interested in every detail. Even when you stopped in fear of talking too much he encouraged you to continue. When you got to the kitchen you found a vase for your flowers.

“Oh I forgot to tell you. I got off early so I made dinner. Also there’s cookies in the oven”

“And you tried to say I did too much by bringing you flowers”

“Well you’ve done a lot for me” you looked down at your feet.

He walked closer to you and pulled your chin up. He didn’t speak until you looked him in the eyes. “Do we not remember how we got here? You saved me that night. You’ve done plenty for me darling. Although dinner looks delicious” He laughed at himself

“it is”

You brought the food to the table along with a pitcher of tea. He thanked you over and over. You promised it was nothing, but he continued to reassure you.

“You know I realize I’m a bit overdressed” he laughed his face turning red again.

“Maybe a bit. I’ve got some sweats that would probably fit you”

After dinner he went to change while you picked out a movie. The moment he walked into the room with your clothes on your heart skipped a beat.

“You could keep those if you’d like. They look good on you” you smiled softly.

“Look at you coming out of your shell”

“What?”

“You’ve been extremely shy do you know that? I knew you’d get more comfortable”

“No I haven’t”

“Love I asked if you were hungry one day, and you said no then your stomach growled.”

“Did not”

“Every time I give you compliment your whole face turns red, and you can’t look at me. When your afraid that your bothering me you get quite and look down at the ground. And never once have you bothered me pretty girl”

“I don’t do that” you said with red checks and eyes glued to the floor.

“Yes you do silly girl. See there you go again”

You covered your mouth in shock. He notices every little thing about. He’s memorized them before you even had. You quickly changed the subject “Movie?”

The moment you clicked play the tension was strong. You and Josh haven’t had intimacy or anything close to it. A kiss and a hug was as far as it’s gotten. A part of you really wanted him. To feel him all over you. For his scent to cover the sheets. To have his tongue against you. To see his beautiful skin dripped in sweat. To hear his breath pick up while he’s against your ear. To feel his hands in the places others didn’t care to touch. To be loved gently for the first time. To make love rather than feel like your being used. Another part of you is afraid that once he sees you he won’t feel the same. That same beauty he sees will be gone.

He put his arms around you, and cuddled in close. After a while you laid down on your side. He followed your lead, and laid with his chest against your back. You felt him harden against you. He quickly moved back in fear of making you uncomfortable. Instead you pushed back against him. His hand found your waist as he started grinding against you. You pushed back again feeling him close to you. When you let out a soft gasp he stopped, and leaned close to your ear.

“Come out of that shell pretty girl”

“Take me to my bed”

He picked you up like a baby and carried you to the room. He laid you against the bed and started kissing your neck. Naturally you started breathing heavy, and you squirmed beneath him. He kissed your lips, your cheeks, and your nose. “Can I taste you?”

“You mean?”

He teased his tongue against your neck. You hesitated, and he quickly realized you’ve never had this.

“No ones ever went down on you sweetheart?”

You shook your head completely embarrassed. “I’ve asked for it, but every time they make me feel like its gross”

“I won’t make you feel gross. I’ll make you feel really good” his fingers danced over your clit making you shiver. “Can I take them off?”

With your nerves taking over you couldn’t answer. You nodded your head, and he could sensed your nervousness. “I’ll be gentle with you I promise”

He raised up your shirt to kiss your stomach. Placing warm kisses all over you. He slowly raised your shirt up to reveal your breast. You closed your eyes scared of his reaction.

“Baby your bearutiful”

He took his time kissing everywhere he could, sucking on your nipples, and leaving small hickeys on you. You were already a wreck. The way he was taking he time to make you feel good rather than rushing to get to his needs. He already had you wrapped around his fingers.

He made it down to your waist and kissed the band of your sweats before gently sliding them down. His teased your thighs before kissing you through your underwear. Making you gasp out again.

“There you go sweetheart”

He slowly slid your panties down, and once again you covered your eyes. “Open your eyes I want you to watch. Watch me while I show you how your supposed to be treated”

“Oh fuck” you said it before you even realized.

He licked you once letting you adjust to the new sensation. Then again and again. Then he set a slow pace as you cried out. As hard as you tried to stay still you just couldn’t. He held your legs and followed as you moved. Your stomach felt warm and it took you a minute to realize. You were about to finish.

“No fucking way”

You sat up quickly he grabbed your legs pulling you closer. “Josh I think I’m gonna”

You fell quiet as your legs and core shook hard. This was nothing like you’ve experienced before. Your eyes rolled back, and you gripped his curls. You shoved his head away you quickly overstimulated.

He teased a finger against your entrance before sliding it inside you. Then another you felt like you might be explode, but when his tongue touched your clit. The noise that came out of you was shameful. “I can’t Josh I can’t”

He slowed his pace trying not to overstimulate you. Regardless you came hurdling towards another orgasm. You couldn’t form words to warn him. Your mouth dropped, and your entire body shook again. Rather than stopping right after you finished. He let you ride it out by slowing his fingers down and giving your clit kitten licks. Letting you experience a full orgasm.

He licked his lips, and wiped his mouth. “Oh my god. Come here Josh”

You started playing with his waist band. “Are you sure?”

You assured him you were and he pulled the condom out of his pocket.

“Magnum?” You questioned him.

“Yes” he looked at you confused. “I won’t hurt you pretty girl”

You nodded your head, and he pulled them down. You wanted to cover your mouth he was big. “Josh your-” you stopped yourself real fast.

“I know honey, but don’t worry”

He teased your clit with his tip. “Are you ready?”

“Yes please”

He slowly slid himself inside you. Only the tip before you asked him to slow. “Tell me when”

You adjusted and asked him to continue. Once he bottomed out you were already clawing at his back.

“Josh” you whispered.

“I’m here. I’m right here”

You whined out for him, and he was quick to remind you it was okay. “Josh fuck it feels so good”

“I know it does sweet girl. You’re doing so good”

He grabbed your wrist and held them above your head. His pace was slow but he was so deep inside you.

“I’ve got you pretty baby”

“I think I’m close again. Cum with me Josh”

“I got you just let go for me”

“Cum with me baby”

“God you’re so damn beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking”

“Talk to me”

“Oh I’ll talk you through it sweetheart”

“Please Josh”

I’m so proud of you. You’re taking me so well. Such a good girl. Do you know that?”

“Oh fuck”

That all it took for you to snap. Your back arched off the mattress and he held you close. He spoke to you softly as he finished with you. Not used to having an orgasm so strong you laid there trying to recover. He pulled out, and started tending to your needs.

“You okay pretty girl?” He gently brushed your hair out of your face. You nodded your head still not able to form a sentence. You tried to pull the covers over you, but didn’t get very far. You whined out from your lack of strength. “Shh shh I’ve got you”

He pulled the blankets over the two of you, and you laid against his chest. Before you realized it you were passed out in his arms. He let your body rest while he laid there with you. Staring at the ceiling thinking about you.

“God I hope you stay” he whispered into the night.

~

The next morning you were surprised he was still laying next you. You thought surely he’d be gone after last night. But when the sun came shining through the curtains, and woke you from your sleep. You rolled over to find him sleeping peacefully next to you. Your thumb gently rolled over his cheek. Skin soft so soft you wish you could curl into him. His eyes fluttered open, and his beautiful brown eyes lit up when saw you. No words were said as you laid there admiring him. He really is so beautiful. If only you knew he was thinking the same about you.

“I love you” he spoke.

Your eyes widened as his words. Surely he doesn’t love you. He’s just having a moment there’s no way he loves you.

“You do?”

“With all my heart love”

“I love you too Josh”

https://www.tumblr.com/leclerced/745220654172864512/httpswwwtiktokcomtzprt2cxdt-this-has-acc

obviously when it all starts, you do start to cling to them a bit more right? Because all these murders happening around is enough to freak a sane person out, especially when it’s classmates, and people you see every day at college you know? and sure there are little things that tip you off, but you don’t want to see them, so you don’t really notice them. how they don’t want you driving around after dark can just be seen as them trying to protect you because there’s a scary murderer around! they’d love the fact that it makes you a little jumpy, and you become so much more attached to them, and they do also have to admit that your fear is hot as hell. They like being your big strong protectors you know?

And realistically. You are probably the safest girl on campus right now, and just because they are a little murder happy doesn’t mean they don’t love you, though it is odd that every time you tell them something that someone did to upset you, that person ends up dead.

-

🩰

ok sorry … this was actually saved in my drafts … so it was my fault this time not tumblrs. i hit save not post. but i found it !!!

the first murder happens after the three of you go to a party, at some point you get separated from them. you went to pee while they were playing beer pong and somehow get distracted, bump into some friends after peeing and forget to make your way back to your boyfriends. twenty minutes pass and you suddenly remember promising to return to them, so you do. only they aren’t at the pong table anymore. you check your phone for texts, assuming they went looking for you and may have texted or called, but there’s nothing.

you spend an hour searching the house party for them, texting and calling both before you give up and decide to go home. you text the group chat, and both of them privately, and hit the “notify anyways” button that tells you their phones are both on do not disturb. the walk is short and uneventful, but because you’re alone and it’s dark, you’re a bit scared until you get home. you go to bed and try not to be annoyed that you were ditched. there’s got to be a worthy explanation.

when you wake up hours later to your boyfriends crawling into bed, you’re angry. mostly, from being woken. “excuse me. what time is it?” you lift your wrist and check the time on your smart watch, not even allowing them enough time to check and answer. “it’s four am. where have you been?”

max grunts, “we fell asleep upstairs.” your brows furrow in confusion but before you can ask why they went upstairs, he adds, “fooled around.”

you gasp, “seriously? without me?” it’s a bit rude to be honest. to go upstairs at a party and not take you with.

charles presses his face into your chest, “m sorry, pet, i thought i texted you. make it up in the morning? too tired now.” you glare at max as he cuddles up next to you too, but let them smother you despite the annoyance.

you have a nice morning, they wake you up after letting you sleep in later than usual and clean the apartment up. they debate making breakfast to surprise you, but charles points out their lie from the night before, and how he promised they’d make make up for fooling around without you. so you’re woken with sex and then breakfast, in that order, so it won’t get cold. then you take a nice bath and finally pick up your phone to check it, screen any socials you may have posted on the night before.

instead of seeing photos and videos from the night before on your feed, it’s full of news stories about a student being found dead. it takes two scrolls of your thumb to find out who. eric from your physics class. the guy who sits behind you and incessantly bothers you with his attempts at flirting. the last time you saw him outside of class was a few weeks ago, when he tried to force himself on you at a party. he was kicked out by the frat brothers, one of them caught him trying to corner you on the way to fetch a drink and he was kicked out. you hadn’t told anyone about it, just forced yourself to forget about the situation. you feel guilty for thinking he deserved it.

you find out a few hours later what happened. or at least, what your friends know from the rumor mill. he was at the same party you were, and he left around midnight, then his roommate found him murdered when he came home. it never crosses your mind that charles or max, or both, could be behind it; they went upstairs around two in the morning and came home at four. two of your friends even joked about seeing them go upstairs only to see you coming down minutes before, saying they thought you may have been fighting since you weren’t with them.

you think it had to be related to something he did, you’re convinced it’s a one off. the first murder doesn’t shake you too much, but your boyfriends insist on walking you to and from every class, taking you anywhere you need to go. they make a schedule that works around their own to create a buddy system so you’re never alone. when neither are in class, they’d just wait around for you to need to go somewhere so they could escort you. you think it’s silly until the second person dies. an ex boyfriend who was really shitty to you. your first thought is it was probably a drug deal gone bad until you find out he was stabbed just like eric. that one shakes you.

you excuse it though, and list all the people that also knew both of them. your ex was in the same friend group before he was ousted for treating you like shit, and a few of your friends have had classes with eric. one shared a dorm with him freshman year.

the third one is a girl you met once in the library. she spilled coffee on your laptop and refused to replace it. that doesn’t mean you knew her. it’s not another person connected to you. you tell yourself there’s no reason to freak out. but you really fucking like the buddy system.

Grave - Book 2: Ribbon & Rope (Chapter 8)

Return to Chapter 7.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Grave Series.

Return to Yoongi Fanfictions.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 8

You two fucked your way through the night and into the sunrise - as well as into the double digits. Even though the heat was the excuse, there were times you felt like his appetite was putting yours to shame. Especially when you had finally fallen asleep only to wake less than thirty-minutes later to his fingers crawling over your shoulder.

Like him, however, you had no complaints.

Well… until about the 12-hour mark hit, and nothing mystic could stop you from needing a pillow.

You were curled tightly around one for warmth, since you couldn’t find the energy to pull the comforter over your back, and you couldn’t trust him to read curling your body around his as anything other than a sign to go again.

You felt him shuffle beside you, and the heat of his body warm your skin - which was welcome - but then you felt his finger begin to trace over the silvery mark on the back of your shoulder. He kissed it softly, the way he had the last two times he woke you.

“Don’t you ever sleep,” you groaned, only not in a way that implied you liked where he was going.

“I only sleep once a week.”

You whined. “Of course you do.”

“You okay if I run down to the store?”

“Please do. Take your time, then take a little more.”

You could hear him smile behind you. “Okay. I’ll run some errands and let you sleep. Text me if you need anything.”

“Mm-hm,” you mumbled as he crawled over you and out of bed. But he wasn’t quite ready to let you drift off back to dreamland. He bent over you, kissed you once more on the shoulder then gloated, “I warned you that you couldn’t handle me.”

“I fucking concede,” you growled. “You win, just let me sleep.”

⁂

You woke up a while later, horny as fuck, but you expected that from your prior heats.

Yoongi still hadn’t returned. You thought about texting him to get the hell back here and the hell back in you - but figured he would return soon regardless, and you could take a few well-needed human moments in the interim.

You looked around the room, noticing the purple vibrator, which Yoongi had whipped out four orgasms ago, plugged into an outlet next to the bed.

"Might as well kill two birds with one stone," you shrugged as you reached for it, then headed off towards the shower.

When you were scrubbed clean, and gave up on hoping that Yoongi would return and join you under the water, you pulled yourself back into his shirt and began searching his kitchen and fridge for something to eat.

His cupboards weren't bare, but they weren't exactly full either. He probably only had to eat once a week as well.

But, in it, you saw an opportunity.

You searched his apartment for your jeans, not quite remembering where they had been discarded or stored. Once you found them, somewhere over a chair, you jumped yourself into them, grabbed your wallet, then took the fire escape down to the street and popped into the convenience store.

You lazily searched the aisles, scavenging through the limited items until you settled upon pre-mixed pancake batter, orange juice and chocolate chips.

So far, the morning was going well. Unlike before, you were terrified to be on the street alone during the heat. This time, you had someone who had quite literally fucked you into a coma, so you felt fine wandering alone for a few minutes - even past the beefcake of a man who was eyeing you from the other aisle, or the couple near the freezers who seemed to be having a hot first post-hook-up rendezvous.

But, unfortunately, it was the cashier who broke you. It was something about the way his gaze knowingly praised you and the diverse array of hickies on your neck. He seemed to like how marked you were… he seemed almost challenged by it.

You liked how he looked at you. Or at least the heat did… well, you did a little bit too. You liked the idea that he might try to replace those marks with several of his own. Perhaps right here, in the back. Behind the freezers, against some utility shelves.

He seemed to pick up on how much you liked the idea… and then he seemed to pick up on something else.

“You’ve been hanging out with people you shouldn’t have, miss,” he said to you as he handed you your change. You looked up to him a bit confused. Did he… know?

You stared him back, trying to get a read on the situation, and then you noticed how the ring around his irises began to glow more and more in a bright, sunshine yellow, slowly creeping inward to reveal his true eyes.

He was a demon.

Shit, you thought to yourself. What kind of demon was he? Was he dangerous? Ancient? From this realm or another? Was he a good fucker?... Did he know how to control your mark?

“Bye,” you said hurriedly, flustered and a bit terrified of the idea. You needed out of there before the haze made you manic or before he had a chance to wield something over you.

You kept your head down as you turn the corner of the building and nearly ran the three stories to Yoongi’s back door.

You rushed inside, closing and locking the door behind you, then turned around determined to find your phone to text him right away, desperate for the security he would bring you.

But when you turned around, you shrieked and jumped backwards, your heart nearly launching itself out of your body as you found a stranger standing in the middle of Yoongi’s apartment.

"Who the fuck are you?!" you demanded, your eyes quickly scanning the kitchen for something you could use as a weapon.

The stranger, a woman, whose gaze seemed to be sifting through the array of trinkets and books that lined Yoongi’s walls, turned elegantly and unalarmedly around to look at you. Then you froze.

It was… her… The succubus. Yoongi’s succubus, that he had drawn and was in that book. The one you saw at the bar.

“You smell nice,” she purred through the knowing and seductive smile on her beautiful lips.

“I know you,” you said pointedly, trying your best to not be affected by her mere presence. The heat was enough of a beast to wrangle, but even when it wasn’t around to cloud your judgment, you remembered how alluring she had been back at the bar, even though back then you hadn’t actually been within five-feet of her. But now she was five-feet from you, and you were sure you could smell her, the way she could smell you. Her scent filled your nostrils with an intensity that made you want to plug your nose, and fuck, you might come just standing still if you didn’t control yourself.

“Is that so?” she smiled. Good God, the way she smiled. “I’m sorry to say I don’t know who you are, but I would love to take the time to get to know you.” A string of electricity misfired behind your navel. You wanted to launch yourself across the room at her and let her get to know you biblically.

You needed to get out of there… she was a succubus… you were in heat… there was no way you wouldn’t let her have her way with you. You eyed your phone on the counter, and thought about making a run for it and then escaping back down to the street.

“Don’t worry, darling,” the succubus drawled. “I’m not here for you. I’ll be gone soon.”

You wanted to tell her that it didn’t matter if she was here for hours or here for only minutes - you just needed to get away. There was something about her that made you want to confess that to her, and more… but you didn’t know her, or trust her.

“I can help, you know.”

You swallowed, trying to not get another whiff. “Help with what?”

“Your little appetite. You’re not supposed to have it. Actually, we can help each other out, I’m in need of a boost.”

You didn’t know if you liked the sound of that, but you were curious. “You can take my mark away?”

“No, I can not,” she stepped across the room towards you. More she sashayed. The way she walked was incredible too. Your gaze fell to her hips and the way they swished from side to side as she approached you. She really was just wired for sex and sexual tension. Your mind was beginning to ring the alarm that danger was approaching, but the heat was beckoning her to come to you. “But I can… let's say take the edge off.”

“I don’t know you,” you near whispered.

She stepped before you and into your space, and you felt only inches tall in her presence - but you wanted to be there. She raised her hand to your face, pinching your chin between her forefinger and thumb, tilting your lips to hers.

“Don’t worry, you’ll feel better,” her lips ghosted over yours, and you were sure you could taste her now. Your body began to shiver. It could feel her warmth radiating off of her, and it wanted to be pressed against it.

She leaned that final inch forward, and her lips met yours, and you kissed.

It was firm, unrushed. Sensual but chaste. You weren’t sure what kind of kiss it was - you wanted it to be more. You wanted tongue, and shared breaths, and heat and skin. You wanted your breasts to be mashed against her. You wanted those long, delicate, expertly painted fingers of hers to dip themselves inside you. Then you wanted her lipstick to not only be smeared across your lips but also smeared between your legs. But as the kiss progressed, you wanted less and less of that. You felt like you were becoming lighter, the way you did after Yoongi had blown his load inside you and the heat had what it wanted. You were becoming that. She was taking your mania away.

She pulled back, and you felt… better. Like yourself again.

“Hm,” she tilted her head, almost looking puzzled, like she had eaten something she didn’t expect to taste the way it did. You almost felt a bout of offense from her. Was there something wrong with how you kissed? She was a succubus for Christ’s sake, surely she’s kissed worst before.

“Feel better?” she asked, the confusion not quite leaving her features.

“Y.. yes…” you answered, just as equally as puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”

“No,” she shook her head, although it wasn’t convincing. “You just… have a taste of destiny to you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Usually a bit of both.”

“Well… what is it?”

“I don’t know.”

You heard the lock and handle of the front door, then heard it open as you presumed Yoongi had finally arrived home. He called your name, and you were relieved, like your heart could return to it’s regular pace now knowing he was here.

He stepped insight of the kitchen and immediately took notice of you and his little succubae ex standing precariously together.

He didn’t seem alarmed by the scene… just confused.

“What’s going on here?” he asked as he set a white plastic bag on the counter and rounded the peninsula to lean against it.

“I think she might have just sucked my soul out of my body,” you announced to him.

He snickered, and for once it was a relief. He wasn’t worried. “I told you they can’t do that, Y/N.”

“I just thought I’d help your companion out, Yoongi. Take a little bit of that energy off her hands,” she released her hold on your waist and strolled across to him.

“I don’t know if I wanna thank-you for that, I was quite enjoying myself.”

“Of course you were,” she stretched up and kissed him on the cheek, her hand rubbing his chest in a too familiar way for your jealousy to ignore. “But she’s human, Yoongi. She doesn’t need to be burdened with all that.”

He looked down at her, defiance in his eyes and smirk in hers. To be honest, you weren’t quite sure what it was you were seeing between them. They seemed like… friends? Old friends. Comrades. Or like… a formerly married couple who had an amicable divorce. There was history between them, but a history that even from where you stood had ended a long time ago and was reduced to nothing but respect. It was relieving… but the green eyed monster inside you still didn’t like it.

Not long ago you had been terrified of her - you still were - and yet within minutes she had reduced your panties to a pool. And now she was here, next to you in front of the person you wanted - and you couldn’t help but feel inferior next to her.

“You seem different,” he said to her, and all she could offer was a non-committal “hm” in response before she wandered back into the living area and began scanning his walls and shelves, occasionally stopping to admire his artwork.

Yoongi looked at you and mouthed “It’s okay,” then he reached his arm out to you, beckoning you to come to him. You did. He kissed you once when you reached him, then he wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled your back against his chest.

She was completely unbothered by his PDA. Perhaps less than bothered - obviously she wasn’t threatened by you, and you weren’t sure what to make of that.

“What can we do for you?” Yoongi eventually asked her. “We’re not one of your clients or something are we? It’s been a while since I’ve had a threesome.”

She chuckled, he smiled, and your vagina clenched. Was did he mean by client? And what the hell did that have to do with a threesome?

“I’m afraid not,” she said, somewhat regretfully. “I’m exclusive these days.”

You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen around you - he didn’t like that answer.

“What… what do you mean?” he asked.

“I met someone,” she looked sharply back at him, seemingly transmitting a message that only he could understand.

“But… how… are you dying?”

You could now hear the alarm in his voice, and suddenly you felt guilty for secretly wishing her dead for the past three minutes.

She sighed. “You know, it always pissed me off how you knew so much more about me than I did.”

“Tell me about it,” you chimed in.

She gave you a sideways smile and winked at you - and then your once disdain turned guilt suddenly turned into giddy from the small gesture of her attention. Damn these non-humans - it was such a fucking high and low rollercoaster being around them.

“I died this morning,” she looked down and played with a book on a credenza, avoiding either yours or his eyes.

After a pause, Yoongi prompted her again, “Are you gonna elaborate?” Irritation lined his voice. He was obviously upset.

“It’s a long story,” she sighed. “But… you know the Death with the ocean-coloured hair?”

“Taehyung,” he replied immediately.

She nodded and continued, “He brought me back from the in-between just a couple hours ago.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know yet,” she shrugged. “But so far I’m not complaining.”

“Did he send you here?”

“No. I’m here because I need something back from you. And as much as I would love to entertain the idea of a threesome with you, I only have a bit of time before I need to get back to him. I was really hoping you kept it all these years.”

“I did.”

She smiled, pleased at his answer, but there was also something painful behind it. You had so many questions, and whereas normally you would bulldoze through china shops to get answers, today it felt wrong. Whatever this was, it was personal… and none of your business.

Yoongi released you, and then wandered into the living area, dragging a chair with him to one of the nooks lined with shelves. He stood on the chair, reaching the very top shelf and digging through several items until he found what he was looking for. He returned with it - an old wooden box.

Plain. Simple. Nothing romantic or mythical about it. Just five walls and a lid with a latch. He handed it to her, and she took it, holding it in her hands cautiously as if there might be a bomb inside.

She set it on the peninsula, standing over it while you and Yoongi stood still on opposite sides of the counter, watching her as she looked down at it, taking stock of the many different emotions registering on her face.

He then reached up and squeezed her arm, then rubbed a few soothing circles over the back of her shoulder. “I can hold onto it longer if you’re not ready.”

She shook her head, and you watched as a tear streamed down her cheek before she wiped it quickly away.

“No,” she said, holding her voice level. “I don’t think I have much of a choice anymore. Did you go through it?”

He nodded. “You asked me too.”

“Yeah…” her voice drifted off and she recalled the memory.

“There’s nothing in there you can’t handle,” he said encouragingly. “I’d help you if I could but I’m a bit tied up at the moment.”

“It’s fine,” you heard yourself say. “If you want to stay for a bit, it’s fine.”

You couldn’t help but feel empathy for her. Whatever was in that box was surely something big, and she seemed to be alone. Another part was curious as hell as to what was in there. And the final part wasn’t quite willing to give up on the idea of a threesome.

“No. Thank-you,” she smiled, her melancholy subsiding and her sexual ambience returning. “I don’t need to take up anymore of your day. You two have fun.”

She picked the box back-up, tucking it carefully into her purse, then straightening herself to leave. Before she did, she leaned into Yoongi, who was hunched over the counter, and gave him a small peck on the lips, which he received. Once again, not particularly sexual in nature, but still not something you particularly cared for either.

“Goodbye, darling,” she nodded to you, then left, the heavy sound of the front door closing signaling you two were alone again.

“Well… that was weird," you broke the silence. "What was in that box?"

"Umm… I don’t know if it’s right I tell you."

“Why?”

“Because it’s private. It’s… stuff she wanted to hide from herself.”

"Do you care about her?”

“Of course I do, but if you’re implying in a romantic sense the answer is still ‘no.’ We just slept together.”

“Obviously, you did more than just sleep together.”

“How is that obvious?”

“You’re so… friendly with each other. She cares about you, you care about her.”

“And what about you and me, Y/N? Am I allowed to be nice to you after tomorrow?”

That stung. Yup… it stung big time to be compared to someone who he said meant nothing but sex to him. But, you really couldn’t blame him, you did walk right into a trap you set for yourself.

“You’re right,” you shrugged tightly, not trying too hard to hide how it hurt. “I did say I could be just like your wam-bam little friend.”

“You’re jealous?”

“Of course I’m jealous. I’m human. It’s something we do. No matter what our little ‘arrangement’ is, I don’t like knowing you’ve been with other creatures.”

“I’ll remind you that this whole time I’ve had to stare at that scar you have and remember exactly where it came from. I promise you, jealousy isn’t an exclusive-to-humans emotion.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but it didn’t stop your heart from fluttering or your cheeks from wanting to blush. You crossed your arms over your chest “So… you’re jealous.”

He rounded the counter and strode up to you, pulling you into him at the waist. “Yeah… I’m fucking jealous.”

“Good,” you taunted him. “Because I am too.”

“Good,” he agreed.

“And you didn’t need to kiss her in front of me.”

He smirked, then lifted a thumb to your mouth and brushed it over your lips. He then presented the pad of his thumb to you, showcasing the succubae’s lipstick that had been left behind on you. “Looks like you got more action than I did.”

“Of course I did, I’m hotter than you.”

He laughed, then kissed you once… or twice… before releasing you and sauntering over to the window and peering out it, presumably looking for her exiting his building.

You grabbed the bag you had picked up from the convenience store, and started rustling around the kitchen for supplies.

“Am I gonna be okay?” you paused midstep as you clutched a cast iron skillet in your hand. “Is my soul okay?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “She’s harmless, I swear.”

“She didn’t seem to like kissing me.”

“That’s not possible,” he left the window and joined you in the kitchen. Or at least he sat on the counter while you worked around him. “Even if you were a terrible kisser - which you’re not,” he emphasized when he saw your face drop in offense, “she’d love it. It’s her nature.”

“Well… she kind of…” you scrunched your nose as you recalled the memory. “... recoiled from me.”

He looked back at you, a puzzled look on his face. “Did she say anything?”

“Said that I tasted of destiny or something, and that it was probably a good and a bad thing.”

“Okay…” he gave you a tilted look, the puzzlement still clearly with him. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me.”

He thought in silence for a moment, and you went to work pouring out the batter into a bowl.

“I mean…” he began slowly, still somewhat lost in thought, “succubae have sort of an extra sensory thing. Like they can see your sexual fantasies when they’re near you. When they kiss you they can… see into your soul. Maybe she saw something.”

“Have you heard of that before?”

“No,” he stated reluctantly.

“Should I be worried?”

“Did she seem worried?”

“No… just… confused?”

“Then don’t you worry.”

“How can you tell me not to worry? It’s not you she’s saying that about.”

“Y/N, firstly, that shit is unpredictable to begin with because destiny changes constantly. Secondly, her species isn’t exactly attuned to fortune telling to begin with. It’s like taking medical advice from an actor who plays a doctor on TV.”

“Okay, message received - I won’t worry about it then.”

“Good. Now what are you doing to my kitchen?” he said as he eyed the growing mess on the counter beside him.

“I’m making us pancakes and a thank-you.”

“A thank-you for what?”

“Um,” you looked up at him and shrugged, “multiple orgasms?”

“I get pancakes in exchange for orgasm?”

“Well, I can make you a pancake per orgasm if you’d like, but I might need to go buy more batter, and I can’t promise I won’t fuck the cashier before I come back. Oh, and, by the way, did you know your cashier is a demon?”

“Yes, I knew that, and I’ll fuck you before you go so you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, I never said it was the heat that wanted to jump his bones, Yoongi.”

He titled his chin and dug his tongue into his cheek. “Well who's the tramp now?”

“Aww, are you jealous?” you patronized him.

“Are you trying to make me jealous?”

“Only if it’s working,” you smirked. “Is he dangerous?”

“No.”

“Well, he seemed to smell my whole situation,” your hand motioned a circle in front of your waist.

“I could smell you from the street, Y/N, every demon in the neighborhood knows..”

You looked horrified up at him, “Am I in trouble here? Are they gonna come for me?”

“No. There’s like at least 10 wolves in this neighborhood alone going through their heats right now. You’re not that special.”

“Psh,” you gave a sarcastic wave of your head, “don’t mince your words to protect my feelings, dude. Now get off the counter, you’re in my way.”

He chuckled, jumping off the counter, he kissed the top of your head, then rounded the peninsula again to take a seat, prop his chin in his hand and watch you work.

“Is blueberry pancakes all you ever eat?” he spoke after a few moments of comfortable silence.

“No. Today I’m exacting chocolate chip pancakes,” you held up the pack of chips you for him to see. He stuck out his palm to you and you pour a few into his hand to eat. You did the same before eyeing out the rest into the mixture. “How often do you eat, by the way?”

“Whenever I want.”

“Okay but when will you die of starvation?”

“Never.”

“Well, that’s annoying.” You then nodded to the white bag on the counter that he brought it. “What did you get?”

His lips twisted into an amused and perhaps embarrassed half grin, then he pulled a pack of blueberries and a box of pre-mixed pancake batter from the bag.

⁂

Yoongi had pulled out a serving platter for you to share your pancakes on like you two did at the diner. To be honest you felt enormous guilt at using it since it looked like it was a hand painted one of a kind ceramic piece that belonged in some museum in some emperor's display.

Luckily, whatever magic the succubae had committed seemed to work. The heat wasn’t gone, but it was - more manageable. And since now you were able to focus on more than just how to get your next climax, your body was screaming that it was famished for nutrients and energy. Sitting next to him on some stools at the counter, together you mowed down every morsel of fluffy syrup covered heaven you had made.

When the plate was cleared, you shamelessly went about licking your fingers clean of the melted chocolate chips and sticky syrup that had managed to creep its way up your fork, while Yoongi put away the dishes… dish… away.

“Can you pay me a wet paper towel or something,” you said as you noticed more of the batter and syrup and chips had for their way further up your arms. God, you were an animal.

He grabbed one for you, lightly dampening it under the sink and handing it to you. But before you could pull away, he snatch a hold of your wrist and snatched your attention with it.

He pulled your index finger into his mouth, and you felt his hot tongue swirl around your digits as it licked clean some sugary goodness you had missed. Your heart thumped, and your nethers clenched. He pulled it slowly from his mouth, then did the same to the next finger, only this time you didn’t think there was any chocolate to clean off.

He held your hand in both of his as he looked up at you with a hint of salacity in his eyes.

“How do you feel about trying things my way today?”

You held your breath and tilted your head as you tried to understand his meaning.

“You mean like… bondage and stuff?”

“Yeah.”

You pretended to think for a moment, but the answer was already bursting from within you. “Yes. I do.”

He mouth pulled into a smirk, “Good.” Then he kissed your hand once and left you to clean yourself up while he made his way to the cupboard.

Go to Chapter 9.

Ooh, 'showering together' for the intimacy prompts. Pretty please?

Hello!

This is so late, Nonnie. I'm sorry!

It was such a delight once again considering wet!Bond, so thank you for sending this through. It was a really fun prompt to fill 🥰

You can read it below or on AO3. Enjoy!

shower. 🚿

Q finds him under the outdoor shower. 

He’s an absolute vision--sculpted like a hero of Sparta and dripping wet. The shower’s stream bounces off him, sparkling in the early morning light, and Q fights the urge to turn his head and look away. He can scarcely believe he’s allowed to look, let alone to touch. His fingers itch with a desperate need to trace the freckles on Bond’s back and to do far more than that besides. He wants to bring Bond to his knees in pleasure. 

The loud squawk of an overhead seabird interrupts Q’s thoughts. Bond around for it and catches Q’s eye in the process, looking utterly unsurprised to find him there. 

“Of course you have an outdoor shower,” teases Q, in lieu of good morning.

Bond’s mouth quirks into a smile around his toothbrush. “And a bath,” he mumbles before spitting as delicately as one can into a shower drain. “You didn’t notice?” 

“Well, it’s not as if you were intent on a house tour last night.”

They had arrived at Bond’s Jamaican home the evening before after a twelve-hour trip that will live in Q’s memory for a long time. Both of them, thrilled by their new, intimate knowledge of each other, could barely keep their hands from wandering dangerously in places that were really too public for such things. Since they’d started seeing each other two weeks ago, the plane ride had been the longest they’d gone without a heated kiss or a round between the sheets. 

Needless to say, Q had been ready to vibrate out of his skin by the end of it. The journey to Bond’s retreat, which might typically have lasted less than two hours, had taken three because upon a single look from Q, Bond had pulled over onto the side of a narrow road and snogged him senseless. They’d only just managed to pour a couple of glasses of champagne upon arrival and savour the sunset with haste before Bond had backed him into the house and confined Q to the bed for the rest of the evening. 

Not that Q had minded confinement.

He’s too lost in the pleasant memories of last night to realise what Bond has planned in the present until it’s too late. 

“Oh, don’t you dare,” warns Q as Bond’s dripping arm reaches for him. “Don’t you dare!” 

Bond, of course, doesn’t listen. With shark-like efficiency, he grabs Q’s arm and drags him under the shower’s spray. Q gets a mouthful of it and sputters. His vision goes blurry as his glasses get drenched, and Bond removes them with a rakish smile. 

The shower certainly isn’t warm, but the water is tepid enough that he doesn’t shiver. He’s running hot anyway, having slept through a twenty-eight-degree night and woken to a humid thirty-degree morning. Bond’s hands only make him hotter as they tug down his sodden boxers. On the way back up, they stop for a firm squeeze of Q’s arse before Bond presses his naked body up against Q’s back.

“Better?” 

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” laughs Bond. 

By the time Bond’s hands are lathering shampoo through his hair, he certainly doesn’t. It feels glorious. Luxurious beyond measure. More intimate than anything Q has done with any other man, though so are a hundred things he’s done with Bond thus far. Q couldn’t tell you what he didn’t know before he’d followed Bond to bed for the first time a fortnight ago. Finding out has been one of the great pleasures of his life. 

This really is something, Q thinks, as Bond rinses his hair clean and kisses his shoulder. What a wondrous thing to escape to a place like this and shower under a lush, verdant canopy; to lie amongst it in a bathtub made for three; to dive straight from the patio into a blue lagoon, and to rest afterwards in a four poster bed. Q is a particular fan of that bed, with its netting that sways in the breeze above the mattress, making everything seem dreamlike and hazy. It’s a wonder Bond ever left, and Q says as much over the sound of the water. 

Bond kisses him again, at the side of his neck this time. Q feels it down to his toes. 

“Paradise isn’t so perfect when you’re alone,” confesses Bond. 

There is nothing to say to that -- at least not with words -- so Q turns in Bond’s arms and kisses him softly. With the ease of someone who knows they have an endless stretch of time ahead of them, Bond draws him close and kisses him back, just as soft. His hands tremble slightly as they find their home on Q’s waist. It’s something Q has noticed happening every few days. Bond will wake up with quivering hands and a wild look in his eye, the result, no doubt, of some horrific nightmare or another. After long enough on Q’s body, they still, as they’re doing now. 

“What did you want to do today?” asks Q, breaking away from the kiss. 

Bond hums in thought and brings his lips to Q’s ear. 

“To discover paradise.” 

Q looks around. “I’d venture it’s already been found.”

“Yes,” murmurs Bond, as he tucks a wet curl away from Q’s forehead. “I’d say it has.”

NaClYoHo Day 9

Today was the start of trying to find a new house cleaner.

Tl;dr: I signed up for Care.com again and posted my job ad for a cleaner on there. I also cooked the eggs which were at the end of their lifespan and took the trash out to the curb for pickup.

The background here is that almost two years ago, I begrudgingly came to the conclusion that I was never going to keep the house clean to my own standards on my own. Didn’t matter what I tried or how hard I tried, just wasn’t going to happen. If things weren’t "too dirty”, I couldn’t motivate myself to do the cleaning, and if things were "too dirty”, doing the cleaning was overwhelming enough that I’d put it off and off, making the whole thing worse. There was no sweet spot of “just dirty enough” to make cleaning feel worthwhile but not overwhelming--just a direct tipping from “eh, it can wait” to “overwhelming”. I also live alone, so there’s no one to help with the cleaning or provide external motivation because they’re expecting me to clean.

So after wrestling with my feelings that I needed to prove I could do it myself before I “deserved” to be able to seek help, and also with the overwhelm of, you know, actually having to search out said help and interview people and the like, I actually went through the process and found someone who worked quite well for me. I had her come every other week.

And it turns out that having someone come do the cleaning for me had a number of helpful impacts on my life. The first and most obvious was that things were clean and kept being clean on a regular schedule and I didn’t have to make them that way, which removed a lot of stress. The second was that having the cleaner over on a regular basis meant I had to tidy on a regular basis too, so that the cleaner could get to the things they needed to clean, which cut way back on the amount of clutter pileup that stuck around (because I was putting it away) and that happened in the first place (because I was more aware of it when it was happening, because I knew I would have to put it away soon). And the third thing was that with a “cleaning time” scheduled and another person involved (so a real commitment, not just one to myself which has never worked for me), my brain was willing to concede the time that the cleaner was here as cleaning time, which meant I could--and would--work on other cleaning-type tasks while the cleaner was present, such as dishwashing or putting the clean laundry away or working through my backlog of non-urgent mail, which meant I was actually making overall progress on getting my home more into the shape I would like it to be in. Which was a marked change from desperately trying to keep up with the basics while falling ever further behind on... basically everything.

But then the cleaner who was working for me switched to commercial cleaning only, so I had to find someone new. And the new person turned out to be rather unreliable and eventually just ghosted me about a month and a half ago (after cancelling the two previous appointments. I wasn’t really surprised by that point). I put off finding a new person because it’s an annoying and time-consuming process, but it really does help me when I have someone so I decided NaClYoHo was a good motivator to actually put the work in to find a new person.

I decided to use Care.com again for this, because my first cleaner came from there. My second cleaner I had found by using more conventional professional review/hiring sites, and I have exhausting the available options in that realm (there were four that I could find that were active--one only worked weekday daytime (I’m at work during those hours), one didn’t get back to me after I reached out after the interview, and one no-contact no-showed to the interview. The fourth is the one that ghosted).

For Care.com, the process is that you answer a short questionnaire about what type of cleaning you’re looking for (their hours options are not really geared for cleaning, because they’re asking you when you want people present, but I just treat it as though it’s asking for availability and assume people will know what is meant based on the written portion) and then gives you the chance to provide a written summary of what you’re looking for. I use the summary to clearly indicate the frequency I’m looking for (every other week on a weekday evening) and what type of cleaning I’m looking for. This time around, I also included how long I estimate each cleaning to take, because both the previous cleaners took about the same amount of time.

I didn’t have to create an account because I had one from last time, but this time I did have to pay the membership fee before I could post the job. (Last time, and I’m not sure if this was because I was new, I could post the job without joining; I had to join to be able to contact people interested in the job.) I chose the $40 monthly option because I will hopefully have someone chosen within a month and be able to cancel before it goes into a second month.

So today’s NaClYoHo was getting the ad posted on and subscribing to Care.com.

keats diary: tw sadness, mental health, and tears.

i have been playing dnd since may of 2020 with the same three people. my two cousins, kelsey and lindsee, and kelsey's husband, cass. these are my three best friends. i spend all my time with them and i love them and they are the people that keep me sane. i generally run our dnd games, with the exception of two months in the winter when cass runs a game.

a few weeks ago, i had a conversation with cass who pulled out of our dnd table because he didn't like my dm style. this was soul crushing, especially when he also plays at another table, which none of the rest of us play at. it felt like i was being broken up with and left me devastated.

the next day, my best friend pulled away from me. this was a far messier situation, and i won't expand on it, but it felt like part of my heart was being carved out. we tried to hold onto what we had built, but i was so frustrated with how things turned out, and how much it was hurting my mental health so i ended things.

it felt like three breakups. first losing my favorite hobby, as the others didn't want to play without cass, so now i just don't play dnd. and then my best friend, twice. one right after another, two in two consecutive days.

the worst part is that for the last three weeks, i have been alone. cass and kelsey are incredibly busy, and even when i babysit for them, there's a massive chance that they will drop me off at home right after work rather than us hanging out as usual, watching yellowstone or dimension20 or something like that. i have no best friend to cry to about how isolated i am feeling. lindsee hasn't talked to me since my friend and i first stepped back, and while i don't think any of it is intentional, my heart very much disagrees with me.

i feel like an exposed nerve. raw and vulnerable with no one to offer me support or shelter. i have the worst case of rejection sensitivity i have ever had in my entire life. part of my whole personality has been taken from me, and the two groups i have tried to join are not taking anyone new in. not to mention i have lost the most important person in my life and my greatest writing partner, and that cut is by my own hand.

to top off the isolation with my four most important people, my eldest brother got a rabbit, which i am deathly allergic to, so i can't go to my home reservation because i have no way of visiting anyone since his house is the hangout house. my other older brother is frustrated with me because i don't want to go camp in the middle of the desert with him and his family (no trees for shade, cacti everywhere, and a fifty fifty chance he wants to go to our older brothers if it's too hot, see the rabbit reasons i can't risk that). my younger brother is dealing with a tragic event with his girlfriend, so i cannot and would not bother them right now. my closest friend is lindsee's seventeen year old kid, who goes on walks with me a few nights a week around our neighborhood. i am incredibly grateful for this relationship. we grew up together, and have been friends for most of their life. they are the one person who is supportive of my non binary discovery this year, they let me cry and bitch and then they tell me all about their life and teenage drama. they want us to be roommates when they graduate, but i told them i am not living with an eighteen year old, and i am not doing roommates again.

i don't know what i am doing. i keep pushing forward, taking my meds, drinking water, getting the recommended hours of sleep, and sunshine, and exercise. i watch my dnd actual play shows and play video games. i take care of my plants and keep my place clean. it's like i am in a depression, but it looks nothing like it's ever looked before because i look fine. but i am not fine. i am crying every day, all through the day, while i sweep my stairs and brush my teeth. when i get home from my walks, before i go to sleep. when i make my breakfast or as i unpack my groceries. i am in hell. so i write.

2018

I think I died four years ago.

The year started with me trying to handle still living with her in spite of us having made it clear it was not to be. My contract up North on a hold, I was stuck at home. We were still watching Twin Peaks together to pass the nights. I slept on the sofa bed, since she had bought the bed and mattress when we moved. The kids felt the tension, A. fled to her friends' homes, S. cried a lot, G. grew distant of us both.

She found some people on Tinder. I asked her "just wait for a bit, we'll figure something". I also found some people on Tinder, or well, J. found me. I cut my hair. Then my employer sent me back to the North. I spent a few weeks, dealing with orders, logistics and the warehouse. Chatting with her and J., I thought I could have something good once back home. Something might even be done to salvage our life. Who knows.

One Friday I saw we were to have a lull in the deliveries and work, so I drove the nine hours on the icy, lonely road, going insanely fast in my old beat-up truck, thankful I had bought the single best, almost magical tires in existence. I didn't go home, I went to J's place. I got there by 3 in the morning. She was waiting asleep in her bed. We kissed, it felt so natural, like we had been together for a decade, and had sex for hours. I woke up in the afternoon, J. was gone ice fishing but had left some croissants if I wanted. I figured her coffee maker, had breakfast, texted her, went home, unsure if I wanted to. Hugged the kids. Felt they were happy but a bit nervous. It crushed me.

I made pizza for dinner. We ate rather quietly. She opened a bottle of merlot that we shared. The kids watched a movie then went to bed. A. went to a friend's party. We were alone.

She wanted an open relationship or to move out, either way continuing renovating the house didn't interest her. I said we could work something out. We got drunker. Laughed. Watched Twin Peaks. She was planning a trip to Cuba with a guy from Alberta. We went to bed. Each in their bed. I took the kids to snowshoe the next day. After lunch I said I had to go back.

I went to J. We fucked again. As I lay with her she told me where we first met. When she was sixteen, she dated the guy I was driving to college - we lived in another town. She's been wanting me ever since. She told me it was better that we do it in the day while her landlord didn't listen - it excited him she said, but sometimes his ten years old was in the room upstairs. I stayed until the last minute and drove the 900 kms to my work camp. I drove in the village with the first rays of the sun, confused and barely coherent.

For the few weeks I spent there I took a more hands-on approach to remain interested in my job. To stay awake. Talking to her didn't interest me as much, J. had taken my thoughts by the groin. She didn't help, more interested in her Cuban escapade than whatever dumb shit I had to say. I couldn't blame her. So I did some electrical works, carpentry, lots of drywall and cleaned up the warehouse. I tried getting the mechanic to do his job but couldn't. He got fired.

I drove back another time, just for J. She told me I could stay the weekend. Waiting for me in her bed at 3 AM again, with a bunch of sex toys we didn't even think of using on her bedside table. The passion of dumbasses needs no help. I lived a physical love I had not lived in years. It was confusing, it was wonderful.

Up North the contracts I helped oversee were about finished. None of the contracts I was initially hired for were going anywhere. I spent my three weeks. Went even further North once to fetch two carpenters who could not land in the village. Too windy. The road was a mess, so was I. I stopped in the only Caucasian village and bought a crate of beer on the way. Accomodations had been arranged beforehand, so me and the two carpenters had our best meals in weeks right there, courtesy of an actual cook being hired for that work site. The dessert were to die for, and I say that as *not a dessert guy*. On the way back we pulled one of my distant cousins from the ditch. We're not supposed to act like tow trucks but in such an isolated place you just do what's right.

Come February, I was back south and management called me to the office. I was "becoming kind of redundent", since the contracts had been granted to the usual contractors. They suggested I went on unemployment for a while, keeping my benefits and all. J. was ok with me coming to live in her place for a time. She was also ok with trying to figure a way to live together. I started with going home for a few weeks, it didn't work out very well. I returned to the sofa bed. Then decided I was better off taking J's offer.

She was tired of her job, so I walked her through the unemployment benefits process and how it could fit into a career boost. I applied left and right. She applied to some jobs. More importantly, we made a kind of life together. We didn't want to. It was obvious we would be happy together but we would never allow it to be.

This whole thing was just a missed college fling taking shape in our mid thirties. She was not the tiny dumb cute blonde girl who had fallen for the long-haired goth imbecile that I was not anymore. But I felt things with her that I didn't feel for a long time. It felt fresh, I felt alive.

We made it clear, even though I slept in her bed every night, we were not "together" together. Even though I cooked and cleaned for her as she tried new jobs and new outlets, I was not in any way hers, she was not, in any way, mine.

But how did she want me, and how did I want her...

We were just friends, in bars, just friends. Until our hands found each others. We were friends, just friends, roommates even, just doing our groceries dancing together in the aisles cheek to cheek. I was not even properly separated, she was trying to learn to go free after a 10 years shitty relationship. We were just helping each other go through a rough patch.

It was painful. We were so perfectly cut for each other. Her one missing tooth, my chipped one from my tongue piercing. Her constant fear of herpes outbreaks, my constant fear of a psychotic outbreak.

She went on a date out of town once. Romantic ski resort thing. I went to my cousin's place, 350 miles away. He had a new girlfriend, college girl. Half his age. It was a bit weird. Barely older than my eldest daughter.

I drank too much. Blacked out. Apparently, I hit on some 20-somethings until my cousin told me they were in uni with his girlfriend. Freaked me out. The next day, I was a mess. Didn't move much from his couch until I was able to drink again. A swig of bourbon and we hopped in his beige Cadillac (it's just a winter beater he swore) and he took me to the Casino. Took a couple glasses of wine and a burger, went back to abusing alcohol. Won a couple dozen thousand dollars somehow.

Hit the road the next day, met an old friend in Montreal. My mind was on J. I slept there, hopped into my truck, obsessing over the meeting point we had agreed on. A particular grocery store she knew of. We were both surprised as we ran into each other, her white SUV and my blue pickup truck, trying to find a spot in the icy parking lot.

We both have a passion for food. A palate that wants quantity as well as quality. We went on a spree. I bought kilos of seafood and fish, she shoveled cheese in the basket. We took some vegetables and cans for good measure. We were kissing and groping in the aisles, acting like teenagers. On the road we set a common playlist and our phones on speaker to stay together. We drove recklessly until the network failed in La Verendrye. We had to stop, regroup and kiss before going on.

We spent a couple weeks of bliss. I picked the girls at school, went for a walk, dropped them home, picked J. at her office. She liked sitting right beside me on the bench. I thought we could make something work, but it was not to be. At some point I wore out my welcome. J's many lovers left me with an unfair advantage, I was in the way of her plans, whatever the reason, I had to go.

At some point in the bliss phase she showed me a college planner from a year she was still in high school. She had to steal is somewhere or to buy it from some older acquaintance. My picture was circled with hearts and stars. It felt weird.

Anyway, I went back to my parents for a bit. Driving back and forth for whatever temporary work I could find. I still had J's key, slept there when she was at some new fling's place. Taking care of the cat. Cleaning up the flat. Hoping she would come back and wake up by my side. She never did, and one night I dropped my key in her mailbox, never to return.

One April morning, not knowing where to go or what to do, I went for a drive around the area. Now, the scale and isolation of the region I live in has to be mentioned. The region has about the size of the United Kingdom at least, for maybe 200k inhabitants, concentrated in three towns and maybe 20 tiny municipalities. It is huge, lonely and empty. So I drove on a full 135 liters tank of gasoline until it was almost empty, filled it, drove until it was empty again, filled it again, and drove into logging roads that were not maintained since two weeks before.

I will pause here and remind that these are snowy, icy conditions. These are our daily lives almost half of the year. And there was a surprise snowfall the previous day. When a road is not maintained, not used, the snow piles. When you drive on piled snow, it goes in your engine bay. If it is not properly protected, and mine was not, snow will accumulate where you do not want it to. Accrete as snow, melt as water, and freeze back as ice. Ice, a solid, will cut through rubber. Through kevlar. This is what happened.

25 kilometers into a logging road, the entrance of which was 45 kilometers north of the last time I saw my phone have any sort of signal, my motor's drive belt snapped. I lost control of my steering, lost the alternator, lost everything. Soon, when the battery died, the motor would die and not start back. I strained to park on the side of the trail and assess my situation.

-1°C, cloudy, 70 kilometers north of any cell phone signal, in a wool coat and thin leather boots, with no food or water.

Maybe I could make a run for it. I had run a few marathons the year before, ran ultras before ultras were a thing. In the context, survival was definitely possible, but considering how tired I was, how late it was, only moderately probable. I weighed my chances. Staying there was certain death anyway. Maybe I would find a trail to a cabin somewhere.

I rummaged through the truck, found an old wool hat and a better pair of boots under the back seat. One single granola bar in the glove compartment. I swapped my boots, wrapped my face in my scarf and started to jog in my tire tracks.

My body heat up, blood pumping, the familiar strain of the first few miles. I shut down my phone to save battery, just in case. Then after about half an our the snow started to fall.

Thick, heavy, very wet snow.

I was thinking of when I would be found, dead, cold, maybe ten miles north of my salvation. It pissed me off. If there was a god, that was a cheap death, such a fucking cheap death. "Fucking asshole, you better let me win this one! You can't make me end up like this!" Thankfully, my coat, no matter how unfit for the situation, was made of real wool. Dry or wet it would keep my body warm.

I kept jogging, angry and getting desperate. I would probably die there between a pine grove, a patch of 20 years old birch and a bog. I had run maybe 8? 10 kilometers? This was so stupid. An experienced mechanic, dying because of a busted drive belt.

The dark clouds suddenly split, showing the 3 PM sun, drying my black coat a bit. I made a salute to it "Thanks mate, real appreciated" Vapor rose from me as I ran on. I thought of the granola bar, as hunger had made its way into my body. "Later. One more mile. One more mile." The wet snow came back, slapping my face with violence, making my jeans wet and cold.

This is where it becomes anticlimactic and I would bet my last dollar that I died and slipped into another plane of existence. As I pushed on, refusing to eat my bar, a pair of headlights appeared. Not those of a semi or a pickup truck, but of a tiny Subaru.

"The road doesn't lead anywhere" I said.

Inside the car was its own college frat microcosm. The Boston terrier that cheerfully invited me in made a few strides outside and jumped on me. He reminded me of hers, poor dog she didn't have the time or knowledge to raise. It ended up biting S's face so I left her with a choice, find it a home or the SPCA. She found it a home, but they had to put it down anyway. Poor thing had a violent streak. Killed two other pups.

"I'm trying to go to [military base], I'm a weaponry tech! I come from [town], my girlfriend is a radio DJ for NRJ there."

"What the FUCK are you doing here kid?"

"Google Maps showed me a shortcut, but I lost signal."

"OK so turn around. Either you're supposed to save my life here or it's the complete opposite."

"What?"

"The road you want is many miles South. You missed a turn somewhere, I'll show you. So turn around, this road has not been maintained for a few weeks."

"Oh hahaha that's why there's a foot of snow hahahaha!"

"Uhhhh yeah and that's why my truck broke down. Look I can show you where your shortcut is, but can you drop me at the convenience store in [town]?"

He drove me there. I gave him two bottles of Gran Coronas cabernet. I called my ex, she was asleep. I called my dad, no one picked up, they were probably asleep. I called J.

"Are you too drunk to drive?"

"Uhhh not yet. Why? I'm with [the other J] by the way."

"Look I'm in [town], I tried to reach everyone else I know. Can you come and get me?"

"[mutter mutter] Hehe yeah!"

I waited about an hour, but sure enough J. and J. showed up both completely drunk in the snowstorm. My J. gave me the most elusive kiss I ever got, her J. went in the store to buy some white wine. I fell on the back seat, tired and hurt. They dropped me at my house. I got in. My ex got up the stairs, asked what the fuck was up. I gave her a vague answer, opened the sofa bed and fell into a slumber.

I fucking died between a fucking pine grove, a patch of 20 years old birch and a bog.

Don’t give up just yet

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.6k

Warnings: two curse word (I think), brief mentions of sex and cheating, angst (bare in mind these warnings don’t apply the way you think they do, you’ll have to read to understand)

Summary: The classic soulmate AU, sentences written on each other’s wrists, but with a twist.

Author’s note: This was basically an excuse for me to reinvent the soulmate AU with the wrist tattoos thing. It’s sorta angsty, but I just thought the ending was too funny. Just experimenting here, tell me what you think.

PSA: Dividers are the count down till the day: black is reader focused, red is wanda focused, gold/yellow is also reader focused, but I thought it deserved a little spark.

“You should call her, y’know.”

“Why would I do that? She made her point very clear.”

“It’s her wedding day, Y/N,” Mia reasoned, “and this fight was months ago, you have to get over it.”

You rolled your eyes at her insistence. This discussion has been happening every day for the past two weeks.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I the one who should get over it?” You emphasized.

“He is her soulmate, and she is your sister, the least you could do is pretend.”

“Ugh,” you let out a guttural scream, “I can’t do this anymore Mia, I stand by what I said. That man is an asshole and this soulmate thing is stupid. I don’t trust him, no matter what the words on both their wrists say, and I’m not gonna watch her go down with this and not do anything about it.”

Mia didn’t respond, she knew she’d reached your last nerve. You watched as the woman left your office, sending a last sympathetic glance your way before walking into the hall. 

Mia was right in some points, and you knew that. She was right about it being your sister’s wedding day and that you should be there to support her. She was wrong about you needing to be the one to apologize though. The way people manipulated their lives to fit this whole twisted Soulmate Theory made your blood boil.

The Soulmate Theory was quite simple: everyone was born with a sentence written on their wrists, popular belief is that those are the first words your soulmate will say to you. It was cute, and it worked most of the time, not for your sister though. Or at least you thought so.

Oli's soulmate was Isaac. They had met three years ago and eventually started dating. Oli was a firm believer of the Soulmate Theory and had never dated anyone before, so it was all new and exciting.

You started noticing the patterns roughly one year after they started dating. He was controlling her, discreetly, barely noticeable, but it was there. 

First with clothes, Oli had made it a habit to always ask for his opinions on her clothing, and he would tell her he hated something, regardless of her telling him over and over again she had liked it. You made little comments here and there about his actions, mostly jokes but with some truth behind, she didn’t notice.

Second was friends, Isaac would always want to meet Oli’s friends, and if she went out with one he didn’t know he would make her feel guilty. You started giving more serious warnings, pointing out what he was doing more clearly, she didn’t care and called you crazy.

Third was her feelings, he had his mind set on what her role should be in his life. He praised Oli endlessly when she cooked or cleaned. Other than that, he didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to her stories, didn’t appreciate her paintings and drawings… 

It got to the point where she wouldn’t want to paint anymore, when she was telling a story it would be without her usual excitement. Her smile no longer reached her eyes, she was constantly tired. 

You confronted her about it, several times, but it was of no use. You’d point out the facts and she’d retort with ‘he is my soulmate, the universe bound us together, he wouldn’t do this to me!’

Three months ago was the last time you two talked. She told you he asked her hand. She knew you would be against it, she tried to ease you into the idea of her being with Isaac for the rest of her life. You weren’t having any of it. 

After hours of screaming, arguing and loads of tears, she told you not to come to the wedding, and you said you wouldn’t. 

It’s now four days from the date and you’re not going as long as he’s the one she’s marrying.

You stared at the words on your own wrist. ‘It’s you’. That sentence haunted you for years. What a stupid set of words for your soulmate to say.

As a kid you adored the Soulmate Theory, you paid meticulous attention to the first words you’d exchange with anyone, you made new friends nearly every day in hopes of hearing those words, but they never came.

Until they came. At first it was exhilarating, but the ones you said didn’t match the ones on the person’s wrist. You were extremely disappointed. And then you heard them again, and again, and again… It became almost routine. Every single person you met would say ‘it’s you’ or some variation of it. 

You being who you are certainly didn’t help. During college you had started a tech company and now it had grown to be one of the biggest and most important in the field. The new inventions did win you several prizes and a lot of money. You were also stupid famous, being the young brilliant CEO and all. 

Ever since, you gave up on looking for your soulmate. It seemed counter productive to get yourself all worked up just for it not to happen every single day. You made your peace with it, although a small part of you just wanted to meet said person.

The situation with Isaac and Oli helped. Seeing that it could end up hurting you made it easier to not fixate on finding your soulmate. Nonetheless, the desire was there; hidden, pushed to the back of your mind, but still there.

You just wished your sister could see it too, that the Soulmate Theory is not the solution to all her problems. 

“Relax Steve, it’s all taken care of.” 

“What about the flowers? Did you book the buffet? Did you check with the band? And the decorations? I saw some people didn’t RSVP yet, should I redo the seating charts?” Steve rambled on as Wanda just laughed.

“The flower problem is solved, the buffet confirmed, so did the band, the wedding planner is working on the decorations and redoing the whole seating chart seems… unnecessary, they still have three days to confirm their presence.” She reassured the man who was more stressed than her about the whole situation.

“Okay, sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” He huffed, taking a seat on the couch. 

“It’s going to be perfect, don’t worry.” She couldn’t help the weirdness that surged upon uttering those words.

“How are you so calm?” Wanda just shrugged, not really sure how to answer. 

Steve took a deep breath and gazed at the red head, offering her a smile. 

“I’m going to sleep, all this wedding stuff has been stressing me all day.” 

“Okay,” Steve made his way to his bedroom but she called him before he reached the hallway, “thanks for the help Rogers.” 

“No worries.” He shot a last smile before disappearing. 

Wanda found herself alone in the living room, the silence only making her thoughts scream louder.

She would be married in three days. It seemed unbelievable. After losing her parents, being experimented on at Hydra, fighting along Ultron, losing her brother and becoming an Avenger, she never thought she would have time to fall in love.

Yet, here she is. Although the feeling wasn’t quite what she thought it would be. It wasn’t exciting, or nerve racking. She felt no different than any other day of her life. Steve seemed like the one who was getting married, not her. 

Vision is sweet and caring, she feels so happy around him. Then what is causing all these doubts to haunt her?

She knows what it is, she just doesn’t want to admit it.

Those words. Those stupid words painted forever on her wrist. ‘Don’t do this’. Ever since joining the Avengers she started using several bracelets to hide them, but they still burned on her skin every single day.

She’d heard of the Soulmate Theory at a very young age. Her parents had explained how those were the first words she’d hear from the love of her life. She would spend hours daydreaming all sorts of scenarios in which someone would say those words to her and they’d fall in love.

After her parent’s death, that stopped being her priority. At the Hydra base she’d only see her brother and a couple dozen different Hydra soldiers, too old and mean for a soulmate. 

Gaining powers was a game changer. She was older then. Stronger. They finally allowed her and Pietro to leave the base and create chaos in Hydra’s name. “Do good” in Hydra’s name. She believed she was doing the right thing. She truly did. 

Hearing her first ‘Don’t do this’ made her question everything. It came from a little kid nonetheless. A scared little kid. It must’ve been a mistake, she thought at the time. But that mistake happened, again, and again, and again… 

When she joined the Avengers her eyes were opened to all the pain and terror she had caused. All the people she hurt. Then it dawned on her, what if one of those ‘Don’t do this’ came from her soulmate? What if she had hurt them, or worse, killed them?

The idea terrified her. So she hid those words on her wrist. A reminder of the evil she’s done and the love she’ll never have. She promised herself to never look for her soulmate, she already caused them enough pain, they didn’t deserve to get tangled in the mess that was her life.

And then Vision was created. Him and Wanda got along greatly. He made her happy. They fell in love, or at least that’s what Wanda told herself, that she fell in love with him. It was possible, there’s no rule on the Soulmate Theory that says you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Plus, Vision is not human, so he doesn’t have words written on his wrist, he doesn’t have a predestined soulmate, technically he doesn’t even have an actual soul for this sort of thing. They could be each other’s soulmate. A loophole on this stupid theory.

Why didn’t it feel like that though? Why was she questioning it so much? And why now? Three days before her wedding?

She took off the bracelets and stared at the ink, brushing her fingers lightly over it. She loved Vision, she affirmed to herself. She wants to marry him. This is what she wants. And she believes in these words, for a while. Long enough for her to fall asleep, turning off her brain from overthinking the situation too much.

Work has had you occupied all week. With back to back meetings and loads of paperwork to fill out, you’ve barely had time to think of anything else.

But now it seems like everything is done and you have more free time than you’d like. 

You left the office early, not having much to do there anymore, and, instead of spending all afternoon home alone, you decided to go out for some coffee.

You were sitting on your usual table in the small coffee shop close to your place. It was calm, quiet and homely, a nice contrast between the places you frequent. The warm cup on your hands did nothing to distract you though.

The book you’d brought was long forgotten on the table as you glanced at your phone every few seconds. It’s two days till the wedding and, even though you tried not to think about it, you hoped your sister would text you saying she broke it off. It was unlikely, but wishing she could get some sense knocked into her wouldn’t kill.

You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice a woman glancing at you until you caught her trying to call your attention.

“It’s you!” She said, astonished, pointing to the cover of a magazine showing a picture of you.

Recognizing that issue as being a rather old one, you just nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. She took that as an opportunity to approach you.

“Hi. Sorry,” she sounded excited and also nervous for bothering you, “I just wanted to say what an inspiration you are to women all around, to me especially. I’ve been opening my own business and seeing what you do has been such an encouragement to me. So, thank you!” 

You were surprised by how nice she was. You’d expected her to ask you to invest in her business or something, like everyone who approaches you does, but she didn’t and it was a nice change of pace for once.

“What kind of business are you opening?” You asked. Listen to her talk would be a good distraction, plus, you could use the company.

“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she said, “I don’t want to bother you any further.”

“Please,” you urged, “I have the rest of my day off and I could use someone to talk to. Unless you’re busy, then I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.” You laughed to ease the woman’s nerves.

“Sure?” You nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from you. 

She accepted it and you spent at least an hour talking before she had to leave. It was a pleasant conversation, she praised your work but didn’t refrain from giving some interesting criticism on your business. The topic of an investment or a partnership never even came up. 

It got your sister out of your mind for a while, although it didn’t last long.

Laying on your bed, your eyes fought to stay open, your mind swirling with all possible scenarios regarding Oli. She would be miserable if she went through with this, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

You love your sister, you care so much about her, but she refuses to listen to your warnings. You could swallow your pride and go to the wedding. You could try and support her. But that would just make an accomplice to her stupidity and you’re not going to just stand there and pretend that that’s ok.

You thought about texting her, way too many times. But your relationship is already rocky as it is, the least you could do is hope she gets some clarity on her own.

One day till the wedding. She’s 24 hours away from the happiest day of her life. Why is it, then, that Wanda doesn’t feel as happy as she should be. 

She didn’t have to fake a smile, she was happy, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

None of the others seemed to notice it. They just thought it was the nervousness of having everything set so the day could run smoothly. Vision even brought up the possibility of her having cold feet about it, but she denied it thoroughly, assuring him she wanted this.

And she does. She wants to get married, have kids and build up a family of her own. She wants it all. 

It still seemed weird though. Like something was off. 

“Steve just called,” Nat interrupted her thoughts, walking back into the room, “everything is set, prepped and organized for tomorrow.”

“Let’s try on the dress then.” Carol urged the girl to put on the piece of clothing for the millionth time.

It did her justice. Slim at the top and flowy at the bottom, accentuating all her curves perfectly. It wasn’t big and puffy but light and delicate. She smiled at her own reflection as the other women crammed around her to take a look.

“You look beautiful.” Pepper said in awe. 

“She does, doesn’t she.” Laura agreed, even though she’s the one that helped her choose it.

Wanda didn’t say anything, just smiling and appreciating her own image, excitement growing on her chest from wearing it in front of everyone the next day.

The girls spent hours planning how they would do her hair and makeup. There were so many ideas, disagreements and arguments that Wanda was completely drained by the end of the day. She was happy though, to see her friends being there for her, eager to help and make sure everything was perfect.

It was nice to have people around since she lost so much throughout the years.

After the women were gone and she found herself alone, Wanda’s thoughts from the beginning of the day came back, hitting her like a train.

Was she really more excited about wearing a dress than about getting married? Was this a sign of her actually getting cold feet? 

She shrugged them away, affirming to herself these are just stupid uncertanties people always get before their wedding day. At least that’s what happens in movies, so nothing to worry about... right?

Thankfully your work slump had subsided as now a gigantic pile of papers sat on your table. Some contracts had to be restructured and a set of stores had to be chosen to distribute your newest technology. 

You thrived in that scenario, with countless reports and 2D drawings of the prototypes scattered about the room. Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, seemingly unaware of the events that would take place later that day.

That peace, however, was short lived. Your brain short circuited for a second when you checked what had caused your phone to buzz.

Two voicemails. 

From none other than Isaac. 

It was right then that it dawned on you: Oli was marrying that asshole today. In only a couple of hours actually.

Before listening to the messages you started to record your phone screen, maybe he would try to threaten you or something and you could use that to convince Oli to break things off with him. It wouldn’t kill to be precautious.

The first one was sweet, although it almost made you gag, it was sent with good intentions. Isaac was asking you to go easy on Oli, regardless of your feelings towards him, you should be supportive of her and her decisions. Too pretentious for your liking, but sent with good intentions nonetheless.

The second one started awfully weird. Some muffled sounds, things you couldn’t quite make out. Until you heard a loud moan, your eyes going wide as you pushed your phone away from your face. Isn’t it technically ‘bad luck’ to see the bride on the wedding day? You didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as the voice on the phone started to moan each other’s names. The woman didn’t sound anything like Oli, because it wasn’t Oli. Isaac was cheating on your sister? And on their wedding day!?

Oh you weren’t about to just let that go. You stopped the recording, thanking your intuition, and quickly ringed Oli.

It rang once… twice… three times… and then voicemail. You tried at least four more times until you figured she just didn’t want to talk to you.

“Marie can you come in here please?” You called your secretary.

A few seconds later she popped her head inside your office.

“How can I help?”

“Can I use your phone!?” You sounded more exasperated than you wished.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to call your sister today?” Damn, that woman knows you too well. You sighed loudly.

“Please… I just…” You trailed off, sounding desperate this time around.

Thankfully Marie gave in and lent you her phone. You typed Oli’s number and rang it, several times, she didn’t pick up once. You were starting to get truly desperate now.

“Do you have the address?” You handed Marie her phone back.

“Here.” She handed you a piece of paper from her pocket. 

It was on the other side of the city, at least a one hour drive. You quickly grabbed your coat, purse and phone, rushing out of the office, only being stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” You gave her a reassuring smile and a quick nod before making your way to your car. Marie has been working with you since the beginning, she always knew when you were up to nothing good. She also knew that when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.

The drive was excruciating. You kept making stupid mistakes and taking wrong turns. Everything seemed to work against you, being it: accidents, red lights, slow drivers, pedestrians. Even the birds chirping around were pissing you off.

You finally reached the venue and stopped the car messily in the front entrance. You quickly ran up the stairs, and almost tripped and fell when you heard the officiant was already performing the ceremony.

You reached the doors and yanked them open, hopefully interrupting the wedding before it was too late.

“Don’t do this!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, nearly breathless. 

The guests all turned towards you, surprised. So did the couple on the podium.

Except those people weren’t Oli and Isaac. You recognized them, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or at least that’s the names they went for on television. You’ve seen them before, doing business with Stark had its perks, but had never been introduced.

You could’ve felt bad, but your stomach was a turmoil of faith and nausea. You were either really early or really late to stop Oli.

“Sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “wrong wedding, carry on.” You turned around to leave, but not before noticing the bride glancing at her own wrist.

You didn’t get the chance to take a single step out the door before her voice filled the silence that had settled.

“It’s you.” You stopped dead on your tracks. Your wrist burning slightly, not the kind of pain to cause discomfort, just enough to be noticeable.

Those words. 

Her looking at her wrist.

Your’s burning now.

You turned back around, earning all kinds of confused glances from the guests. Your eyes fell on the woman, a smirk plastered on your lips.

“Seems like this isn’t the wrong wedding after all.”

Pairing: Bang Chan x female reader, ft. Han Jisung

Genre: smut, a little bit of angst

Warnings: mature content, partying, drinking, kissing, unprotected sex, oral sex, lowkey fuckboy!Chan

Word count: 8.038

Summary: You had to do a project for the last semester in college before your vacation. Not only you had to deal with the stress of doing it right, but you also had to deal with the stupid crush you had on Bang Chan.

"Felix, I'm not going to kiss Chan"

"Everyone, pay attention here, please," your teacher said. Slowly, everyone stopped with the side talk and paid attention to her. "For your last project of the semester, I decided that we are going to learn about different cultures." She got up from her table and went in the direction of the board. "Remember when I asked you guys to send me the names of your groups? Basically, I'm going to draw random countries for each group. I want you guys to do a study aboout the differences of said countries, based on a theme that you are going to choose.”

She started writing on the board.

“The theme must be something creative. If it is not creative, your project is going to lose points, okay?" she said enthusiastically.

She started to draw the countries for each group. Your group was formed by basically you and Felix. Felix became your friend after the first day of class but you felt like he was your friend since forever. "I want this project by the end of the month, so..." she looked at the little calendar on her table. "You guys have three weeks. Any doubts?" Some people raised their hands but you weren't paying attention anymore, you were writing down the countries that you had to work with: Australia, Germany, Spain and, Korea. You had no idea what to do for your project. Your teacher was very clear: it had to be creative. Creativity wasn't your thing. "Okay, guys, class dismissed," your teacher announced. Everyone started to get up and leave but you sat there, trying really hard to think on a theme. "Hey, we have to go," Felix said. "What are we going to do?" "We have plenty of time to think about it, Y/N." Felix grabbed your backpack and started to put your stuff inside of it. "Three weeks is not plenty of time, Felix." "Okay, what's your idea, then?" "I don't know, that's why I'm asking you, dumbass." Felix rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the classroom. "How about we do a project about the foods of each country?" "Hm, that's interesting." You took your backpack from his hands to grab a little notebook to write down the ideas. "But I don't think is creative enough." Felix sat at the bench at the corner of the hall. "What if we did the differences in the skin texture of each country?" Felix looked at you and saw the pout on your face. "Too much?" You simply nodded. You sat down next to him, already tired from all the thinking. "You know what would be funny?" you grinned. "What?" "If we made a project about the way that people from each country kiss and the differences from each one." "Y/N, that's it!" Felix got up, excited. "Felix, I was joking." "No, this is a great idea. It's creative! There are students from different countries in our college, so we can totally do it!" "As far as I know, there's only one german student here. Are you going to kiss him?" You stood in front of him, arms crossed. "You are going to kiss him." Felix looked at you like what he was saying was obvious. "Felix!" "Look, we have four countries. I can kiss two people and you kiss two people. It's not going to be hard." "You know what? I'm going home. I'm going to think about a better theme." "You know you can't," Felix shouted while you left. Felix was right, this idea was the best one. It was creative and bold, but kissing random people was the hard part. Not that you didn't like to kiss, but you were used to kissing people at parties, people that you would kiss while you were drunk and you knew that you would never see them again. Not people from your college where you would have to see them every day. "Hi, Jisung," you said while you opened the door of your apartment. Your roommate was laying down on the couch, playing video games. "Hey," he greeted you. You lifted his legs so you could sit on the couch, putting his legs on your lap. "Are you okay?" he asked, noticing your expression. "Ugh, I have this stupid project to make," you whined, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, letting the frustration take over your body. "Do you wanna talk about it?" "No." Your phone rang, you grabbed it only to see that it was Felix calling you. "Hey, Felix." "What's up Feliiix," Jisung screamed. "Hi Jisung,” he yelled, making you pull the phone away from your ear. “Y/N, can you come to my apartment today?" "Nope. No, I can't." "Why? Do you have something to do?" Felix asked. "I don't want to. You know why." "Y/N, you have to get over the crush you have on Chan one day." "I don't have a crush on him, Felix. He just makes me...uncomfortable. Not in a bad way, in a weird way. I don't know how to explain." "Y/N, he's not even here now. Besides, we have to work on the details for our project," Felix insisted. "Why don't you come to my apartment?" "Because every time I go there we can never get anything done because of Jisung. Please? Please, Y/N." "Fine," you sighed. "I'll be there in twenty minutes." "Are you going to get pretty for Channie?" Felix teased. "Shut the fuck up." You turned off your phone and went to your room. The truth is: you did have a crush on Chan. Chan was handsome, funny, he had a great body and a great personality. He was also a fuckboy. You can't remember the number of times that you saw him with different girls in their apartment, one prettier than the other. Eventually, you stopped going to their apartment because you never knew how to behave like a normal human being around him and, seeing him with pretty girls wasn't helping. You took a quick shower and dressed in simple clothes, you didn't want Felix teasing you. While walking through the campus in the direction of their apartment, you kept trying to calm yourself. It has been a while since you saw Chan, so you were excited, even though you were trying to convince yourself that you weren't. Felix said that he wasn't home, so there was no reason for you to be nervous. You stopped in front of their door and took a deep breath. You knocked and it took a moment before Felix answered. "Hey, Y/N," Felix screamed, giving you a hug. "Don't act like we didn't see each other a few hours ago." You entered their apartment. The structure was the same for all the apartments on the campus, but each one had its own piece of decoration. Surprisingly enough, Felix and Chan's apartment had a great decoration and was super clean. "So... let's go to your room." "Are you sure that you don't want to work in the living room?" Felix asked. "I'm sure," you said, already going in the direction of his room. Felix laughed. He knew you were trying to avoid Chan. You sat on Felix's bed with your notebook in your hands, ready to take notes. "Look," Felix said, sitting in front of you. "I know that you don't want to use kissing as a theme, but..." Felix raised his hand when he saw your expression, trying to explain himself. "It is the perfect theme, Y/N. We are not going to find something as creative and daring as this. And this is important for our grades, we are not doing very well on this subject, remember?" Felix tilted his head. You know he was right. "Fine, you are not going to leave me alone, are you?" "Nope." Felix got up from the bed and grabbed his notebook on his table, to show you some annotations. "So, we have to find people from Australia, Germany, Spain, and Korea. We already know the german student, don't worry, I'll talk to him so you can kiss him." Felix wrote down something in his notebook and continued. "There's a spanish girl in Chan's class, I'm gonna ask him to help me out." The simple mention of Chan's name made you feel butterflies in your stomach. "For korean, I thought about the possibility of..." Felix hesitated and looked at you. "No." "Come on, Y/N." "I am not going to kiss Jisung, Felix." "Fine, I'll look for a korean girl somewhere." "There's probably someone in our college." "The problem is someone australian. Don't get me wrong, I love you and you are gorgeous. But I'm not going to kiss you." "I don't want to kiss you either, Felix." "Felix." You heard Chan calling, startling you. "I'm in my room," Felix yelled. Chan opened the door of Felix's room. You looked at your notebook to pretend that you were occupied. Chan and Felix talked about ordering food for dinner or something. "Y/N," Chan said when he noticed you, making you instantly look in his direction. "Long time no see." He had a stupid cocky smile on his face. His sweet voice made you swallow hard. "H-hi, Chan." Of course, you had to stutter. "You can stay for dinner if you want," Chan offered before leaving the room. "So cute," Felix whispered, looking at your red face. "I have to go," you said, gathering your stuff. "But Chan invited you for dinner, Y/N," Felix teased you. "Bye, Felix." "Okay, let me walk you to the door." Luckily, Chan was occupied in the kitchen so he didn't see you leave. "Text me once you get there, okay?" Felix said. "Okay, bye." You kept thinking about the little interaction with Chan on your way home. He dyed his hair since the last time you saw him. Instead of blonde, it was now black. Both colors suited him so much. He was wearing a black sweatshirt and some jeans, the most basic clothes ever and he looked breathtaking. You hated how you were head over heels for him, you felt like a teenager. It was so silly. Days went by and you had a lot of work from college. Felix already worked on his part and managed to kiss the spanish girl from Chan’s class. Something made you feel like kissing wasn't the only thing he did, but you didn't want to know the details. Some students were planning a party and Chan invited Felix, who invited you. "I don't know, I have so much to do," you whined. "Can I go?" Jisung asked, stuffing some food in his mouth. "Of course," Felix said. "Y/N, that's exactly why you should go." He said that while holding some of the papers that were on the couch while you worked on your homework. "You need to ease your mind from all the stress from school." "He's right," Jisung agreed. "She's so grumpy lately because of college." "Shut up, Jisung,” you whined. "Okay, fine. But only if you help finish this," you told Felix. "Fine." The party was on a tuesday night, Felix would go with Chan so you asked Jisung to take you. "Looking good," Jisung stated, eyeing you up and down as he entered your room. You were putting your earrings on. You decided that since you would have all the work to go to a party, you had to a least look good. So you were wearing a leather skirt with a white long-sleeved blouse that showed some cleavage. "Thanks, Jisung. Are you ready?" "Yeah. Let's go." The party wasn't far away from your dorm so you were able to go walking. It was 9 pm, so leaving Jisung with you made you feel safer. Jisung was the type of person who was outgoing, he talked a lot and made you laugh all the time. Along the way, he talked about college and his classes. He studied music production and he seemed really passionate about it. You thought it was cute how his eyes glowed while he talked about his classes. It was funny because Chan also studied music production, but he was from a different classroom. Some minutes later, you were at the place of the party. You had no idea whose house was that, but you completely forgot about it once you were inside. The first thing you saw was Chan, but he was too occupied to see you. He was kissing a girl. She was gorgeous, with long blonde hair, and a tight red dress that accentuated her curves. You were sure that Chan enjoyed that dress by the way his hands ran over her body, stopping at her ass to grab it. "I'm gonna look for Felix," you whispered to Jisung. You found Felix standing next to a table where people were playing beer pong. "Y/N," he yelled when he saw you. He ran in your direction, giving you a tight hug that made you realize that he was probably, already, a little drunk. "Hi," you said with a sad voice. "What's wrong?" "Nothing. It's not important." "If it's not important, why are you making that face?" He held your face with his hands, looking right into your eyes. "Felix, I don't wanna talk about it, not now." You looked in the direction of the table. "Can I play?" "Sure," Felix shrugged. You played beer pong with Felix and some unknown people and eventually, you started to feel dizzy. "I'm going to use the bathroom," you said, stumbling on some drunk people while you tried to leave. You went to the second floor, looking from door to door when you finally saw the bathroom one. However, when you got closer, you realized that there was someone inside of it. And they weren't alone. You could hear the sound of skin slapping against skin and muffled moans. You widened your eyes, feeling embarrassed by witnessing people having sex. When you turned around to leave, you heard the girl moaning "fuck Chan, harder." You could hear Chan groaning while he fucked her.

You swallowed hard and left. There was another bathroom on the first floor which you found eventually. Once you were inside, you sat on the toilet and cried. You had this stupid crush on Chan for so long and look at you. Crying in the bathroom while he fucked a girl in another bathroom. You stayed there for a while, feeling sorry for yourself until you got fed up. It was time to get over him. You cleaned your tears and got up to go back to the party. You looked around for Felix but couldn't find him anywhere. "Y/N," you looked in the direction of the person calling you and saw Jisung enthusiastically waving at you. He was standing in the middle of the living room where people were dancing. "Hey," you half yelled since the song was loud. "Are enjoying the party?" "Not really." You really wanted to leave, you didn't feel like staying at that party, and you especially didn't feel like dancing. That's when you looked around and saw Chan at the corner of the living room, talking to Felix. You saw that he had his eyes on you. Like he would always do, looking at you like he was checking you out but without it being obvious. You clenched your fists, you were tired of Chan teasing you. You had an idea and you didn't even stop to think about it. You grabbed Jisung's face and kissed him. It was a weird kiss at first, the smell of alcohol exhaling in the air. Jisung's lips were soft but eager, he held onto your waist, getting your body closer to his. He wasted no time before shoving his tongue inside of your mouth, taking you by surprise. You kissed him for a while but you stopped the moment you felt him rubbing his boner on you. You lightly pushed him by his shoulders.

"I have to go," you said, leaving the room. Jisung stayed there, looking at you, without knowing how to react. You decided that you had to leave. You were confused, upset, angry and a little horny, thanks to Jisung. You started to walk in the direction of the gates of the house when you heard somebody calling your name. "Y/N, wait!" You sighed and turned around. The last thing you needed was to talk to Chan. "What do you want?" you roared. "Are you leaving?" "Yes. I'm going home." He looked like he was angry at something, but you simply shrugged. "Let me take you home. It's way too late for you to be walking alone," he said in a serious tone. "I don't need your help, Chan." You turned around to leave when he grabbed your arm. "This was not a suggestion. I'm taking you home," he growled. You pulled your arm from his hands but didn't fight. Chan walked with you to your apartment quietly. Not a word was said until he stopped in front of your dorm. "Thanks," you said, looking at the floor. "So, Jisung, huh?. I didn't expect that." "I'm sorry?" You raised your head, looking at him. "How long have you been dating him?" he asked. He really looked like something was bothering him, clenching his jaw and crossing his arms. You felt like he was fighting with you for doing something wrong. "T-that's none of your business. Goodnight, Chan," you remarked. You went in the direction of your door and stopped. You were so angry at him, you couldn't stop the words from coming out of your mouth. "Where's the girl you were fucking in the bathroom? You should be worried about her." Chan widened his eyes and smiled. You wanted to punch that stupid smile out of his face. "Are you jealous?" he asked, raising his eyebrow. "Fuck off." You unlocked the door and went inside. You lay down on your bed and closed your eyes. It didn't take long for you to sleep since you were exhausted. You couldn't say that you had a good night of sleep though, you woke up with a hangover and headache. Still, you had class first thing in the morning so you had to go. You took a shower and got dressed up when you remembered what happened to Jisung. You were not ready to face the consequences of your actions, so you tried to leave without seeing him. You were sitting in your class, trying to pay attention when Felix arrived. "Hey," he said, sitting by your side. "Hey," you whined. "I have good news. There was a german girl at the party last night, so I did your job for you." "Yay," you said without any enthusiasm. "Aaand, since you kissed Jisung, you have the korean part. There's only Australia missing." "Haven't you kissed any girls when you lived in Australia?" you interrogated him. "I did, but I'm australian. I think it would be better from the perspective of someone who isn't, you know?" You sighed. When you started to pack your stuff to leave after the class was over, you groaned. "What is it, Y/N?" Felix asked. "I have to go home." "And?" "I kissed Jisung, Felix." "Was it that bad?" Felix tilted his head, not understanding your point. "That's not the point. He's my roommate and my friend, that's weird." "Well, unless you are planning to move somewhere else, you'll have to talk to him." You groaned again, throwing your head back. You went home thinking about what exactly you would tell Jisung. You always thought that Jisung was an attractive guy and you would be lying if you said you never took a look at his body when he would walk around shirtless. There was even that one time where he brought a girl home, they tried to stay quiet but you could hear them fucking. That turned you on so much that you had to touch yourself. Still, Jisung was your friend and kissing your friends was not something that you usually did. When you got home, you looked around for Jisung. You heard some noises in his room. You knocked at the door and he stayed silent for a while. "Come in," he said. "Hey," you purred when you opened the door. "I think I need to talk." "Yeah, I think we should." "Sorry for kissing you last night, that was a stupid thing to do," you stumbled on your words, barely giving yourself time to breathe. "Y/N," Jisung raised his hand. "It's okay. You are a good kisser." "Thanks. I guess."

"I have to admit that I couldn't stop thinking about it. I was thinking..." Jisung hesitated for a moment, thinking deeply about what he was going to say.

"Why don't we do it again?" he suggested.

You bit your lips. You had to admit that that's not what you were expecting from him.

You sat at the edge of his bed, getting closer to him.

"Jisung, I... I kissed you because I wanted Chan to notice me, maybe get him jealous." Saying it out loud made you realize how childish and silly that was, you couldn't help but to feel embarrassed.

"Y/N, I don't care. It's not like I'm asking you to marry me," he laughed.

Jisung sat by your side.

"What do you think about being friends with benefits?"

He watched your reaction. You had a confused expression on your face, trying to understand his words.

"When was the last time that you had sex?" he asked.

"I don't know. Eight months ago?"

"See? It's been a while for me, too. Besides, you can even use me to make Chan jealous, if you want."

"Are you listening to yourself, Jisung?"

"Yes. We can still be friends, no feelings involved. Think about it."

Jisung got up from the bed and walked in the direction of the door.

"Ji-jisung."

He turned around to look at you. "Yes?"

"I want it."

Felix, 5:35 pm: Hey 

Felix, 5:35 pm: Did you write your dissertation about the korean part?

Y/N, 5:38 pm: I did

Y/N, 5:38 pm: Even though I don't think it's really useful since I was drunk

Felix, 5:40 pm: You should kiss Jisung again then, lol

Y/N, 5:41 pm: Maybe I will ;)

Felix, 5:42 pm: Y/N??? You nasty little b

Felix, 5:43 pm: Send it to me, please.

Y/N, 5:45 pm: Okay.

Y/N, 5:45 pm: Hey, are going to do something tomorrow?

Felix, 5:48 pm: No, why?

Y/N, 5:49 pm: Let's go to the movies. There's that horror movie that we wanted to watch in the theaters.

Felix, 5:51 pm: Sure!

Y/N, 5:52 pm: Can I bring Jisung?

Felix, 5:52 pm: Yes

Felix, 5:54 pm: But don't you dare to make me feel like the third wheel.

Jisung didn't even know that you had plans with him that afternoon. But you wanted to spend time with him, to ensure the "friends" part of your negotiation. After accepting to be friends with benefits, he didn't talk about it anymore. You thought that he would kiss you again or something, but no, he went to the kitchen to make some mac and cheese for dinner and then went to sleep.

"Jisung," you said, knocking on his door. You know that if he was silent he was probably taking a nap.

"What?" he asked, in an annoyed voice.

"Can I come in?"

"Ugh, no, I'm sleeping."

You entered the room anyway. You swallowed hard when you saw that he was laying on his stomach, shirtless. His back was exposed for you to see. It was not the first time that you saw him like that, but it was the first time since you kissed him.

"Get up, we are going to the theater."

"We?" he asked, looking at you.

"Yes, you, me and, Felix."

"Aww," he whined. "I thought it would be a cute date."

Jisung winked at you with a cocky smile on his face.

"Shut up. You have ten minutes to get dressed."

You agreed with Felix to meet him at the movie theater, so you left with Jisung on an Uber.

When you arrived at the movie theater, you could see Felix at the line to buy the tickets, but he wasn't alone.

"Felix?" you asked when you got closer to him.

"Hey!" he said. "I hope you don't mind Chan coming with us. He insisted that he wanted to come. Like really."

"Hi, Y/N," Chan purred, smiling at you. He then looked a Jisung.

"Jisung," he said in a low voice. His face looked serious, it didn't look like he was happy to see Jisung there.

Chan looked back at you. “I hope you don’t mind if Felix and I accompany your date with your little friend with benefits.”

You didn’t have time for a reaction since Felix pulled you to buy your tickets and some popcorn and headed to the movie. The mood was heavy, Jisung walked around with his arm around your neck all the time and you saw Chan looking at you with an upset expression. Was he jealous? You didn't know.

You sat by Jisung's side on the theater and Felix sat by your side, but after talking about something with Chan, they switched places.

Chan's leg touched yours and you felt your heart dancing in your chest. Why couldn't you get over him? You held Jisung's hand, trying to distract yourself. You were not giving Chan what he wanted.

With the corner of your eye, you would see Chan watching you sometimes. But you avoided looking back at him at any cost.

Jisung would whisper some things in your ear during the movie, making you giggle.

Suddenly, you felt Chan moving next to you. He stretched out for a moment, but he left his arm on your chair, next to your shoulders. You swallowed hard and rolled your eyes. Would you be lying if you said you didn't like the sudden attention you were getting from Chan? Yes, you would. But you felt confused and angry. Chan was acting jealous out of nowhere, to the point where you started to feel guilty, while you had to deal with the countless times where you saw him with other girls. Still, you never acted like a jealous teenager around him, so yeah, you were not giving in. The movie ended and all you wanted to do was to leave the theater. Jisung was by your side all the time, walking with you in front of Chan and Felix. "Let's go home, darling," Jisung purred, after giving you a peck on the cheeks. You could tell that he was loving to tease Chan. You said goodbye to Felix, and, reluctantly, to Chan and left with Jisung. When you got home you sat on the couch, still thinking about everything that was happening. Jisung sat by your side, almost sitting on your lap. "Ouch," you whined. "Sorry. What is up with Chan? He looked really angry at me today." "I don't know and I don't care," you shrugged. "Come on, Y/N. I think he has a crush on you and got all mad now that you have a man." "Oh, I have a man?" you looked at Jisung with an amused expression. "Well, we are friends with benefits, remember?" Jisung laid his head on your shoulder while his hand grabbed your thigh. "I almost forgot since you didn't say anything about it anymore." Jisung's thumb drew patterns on your skin while he talked. "Well, I wanted to give you space, you know? To get used to it." "Awn, you are so sweet." "I am, baby." You looked at Jisung, who was also looking at you. Slowly, you got closer to him until your lips touched. Now that you were sober, it wasn't so weird to kiss him. He was very eager, but not in a bad way. He played with your tongue while he guided the kiss, holding your head with his hand. Suddenly, he grabbed your waist, making you sit on his lap. He kept on kissing you, running his hands through your body. You started to grind on his boner, just to tease him a little. Jisung held hard on your waist, pulling you closer to him, so you would grind harder on him. You couldn't hold the little whine that left your lips when you felt his hard dick against your clit. "Take this off," he whispered, helping you to take off your t-shirt. He didn't waste time, grabbing your boobs and pulling your bra down. he licked one of your nipples while he played with the other.  You moaned loud, rocking your hips on his cock. Jisung started to kiss your neck, working to take his belt off. He opened his pants and freed his dick. "Are you on the pill?" he asked. "Yes." Your skirt was already raised, exposing your wet panties. He pulled your panties to the side and held your waist, helping you out so you could slide on his dick. You whined when you felt him stretching you out. You started to ride his dick at a fast pace, not giving your pussy time to adjust. "Fuck, Y/N," Jisung moaned. "I'm not gonna last long if you keep it like that." "Play with my clit, I'm close," you whined. He rubbed his thumb against your clit while you sat on his dick. After a little while, you came, kissing him on the lips. Quickly, you got off his lap and got on your knees. You grabbed his dick and started pumping and sucking it. Jisung came, moaning loud, filling your mouth up with his hot cum. You swallowed it and looked at him with an innocent face. "That's fucking hot," he whined. "Y/N, we need to finish our project," Felix said. You were sitting in the cafeteria. You had only one week before you had to deliver the project and Felix was starting to panic. "I know, I'm still looking for a guy who is from Australia that's not you." "You know a guy that's Australian and it's not me." "Felix, I'm not going to kiss Chan," you grumped. "Why not?" You turned around to see Chan standing behind you, with that cocky smile that he always had on his face. He sat on the table by your side. "Felix told me about your project. Why are not going to kiss me? Is your little boyfriend going to stay mad?" he teased. "You know that Jisung it's not my boyfrie-," you stopped once you noticed that you were explaining yourself. You cleaned your throat. "I don't owe you any explanation, Chan. And Felix, you really need to stop exposing my life to him."

Felix frowned.

"Come on, Y/N. You would rather fail than to kiss me?" he asked, tilting his head and looking at you, using a soft voice. You hated how he made you feel butterflies in your stomach by the way he looked at you. You hated how he looked so good with that stupid sweatshirt and his messy hair, making you think that he was probably late for college today. Probably because he was fucking some hot girl the night before. "I'm n-not gonna fail. I'll kiss Felix if I have to." You got up and left, going home. Felix called your name but you kept walking. In your college, there were a lot of foreign students, but not many australians, from what you knew. You knew that were no way that Felix would kiss you, so you had to do something. You were looking on Tinder, trying to find what you needed when Felix messaged you asking for you to go to his house. He said that you needed to at least finish to write the project, even if Australia was missing. You went to his apartment, ready to be angry at Chan, but you soon learned that he wasn't there. You and Felix did what you had to do and by the end of it, you were both mentally exhausted. "How come just writing something can be so tiring?" Felix asked, throwing himself on the couch. "Probably because we are both very stupid," you stated. "That must be it. I'm kind of hungry but we don't have anything to eat. I think I’m going to the supermarket to buy us something, okay?" "Okay. I'm gonna review our work while you are there." You were sitting there, doing your job for about ten minutes when you heard the door opening. "Already?" you asked. "Y/N?" "Oh, Chan. I thought it was Felix." you sighed. "Sorry to disappoint." Chan went to his room and stayed there for a while. You found it strange that he didn't come to tease you. "Y/N, can you come to my room for a moment?" "I'm busy." You felt your palms sweating. Was he really inviting you to stay alone, in his room, with him? "Please? It's going to be really quick, I need to show you something."

You wanted to say no, you really did. But you went to his room anyway. Chan closed the door when you were inside and told you to sit on the chair next to the table. He had his notebook turned on. "Put this on," he said, handing you his earphones. Chan played a song. It had a smooth melody, with soft lyrics. The person singing had a sweet voice. The lyrics talked about feelings and liking someone. It was short, about a minute and a half. "Do you like it?" Chan asked, with expectation shining on his eyes. "Yes, it's beautiful." He leaned on the edge of the table next to you. "Well, I wrote it and produced it. I also recorded it," he said with a smile on his face, but this time it wasn't a cocky one, he looked satisfied. "Oh, are you the one singing?" "Yes." "I didn't know you could sing." Chan played with his fingers and looked down. You have never seen him like that before. He looked hesitant, almost nervous. "Y/N, I-" "Hello?" Felix opened Chan's door. "Y/N, I was looking for you. We need to finish our project." Chan didn't say anything, he just left the room. "I hope I'm not interrupting something," Felix added. You shrugged and went to the living room with him. You finished all you needed about your project and went home. You looked for Jisung, until you found him in his room. "Can I come in?" you timidly asked when you opened the door. "Of course." You ran to his bed, getting under the covers with him. He was sitting down with his back against the headboard, he looked like he was studying. "I don't want to bother you, Jisung." "That's fine. What's up?" he directed his attention to you. "I'm so confused." "About what?" "About Chan." Jisung laughed. "Tell me about it." "Today he showed a song that he wrote. It was about love and stuff. And he has been acting all jealous. I don't know how to feel about it." "You really like him, don't you?" You sighed. "Jisung, I don't think we should be friends with benefits anymore." "It's okay, Y/N. Can we still be friends?" "Of course!" you hugged him, resting your head against his chest. "I'm gonna miss the sex though," he teased. "Jisung!" "Just kidding, baby." Y/N, 9:45 pm: Felix Y/N, 9:45 pm: We have one day before our project is due Y/N, 9:45 pm: I'm gonna ask you something Felix, 9:58 pm: Y/N I DON'T WANT TO KISS YOU Y/N, 9:59 pm: It's not that, dumbass Y/N, 9:59 pm: I need you to ask Chan if he will kiss me Y/N, 10:00 pm: But I want to make it clear that this is strictly professional Felix, 10:02 pm: Okay, I'm gonna talk to him You had no other choice anymore. You couldn't afford to have a bad grade so yeah, you were going to kiss Bang Chan. Felix said that you would have to go to their apartment. You already started to feel nervous. When you arrived, Chan opened the door for you. "Where's Felix?"" you asked. You were holding tight on the sleeve of your blouse. You walked past Chan while you entered their apartment and you felt your legs going weak when you smelled his cologne. He smelled so good. "He said that he wanted to give us privacy," he answered. You frowned, that was typical of him. "Look, I'm only doing this because I need to, okay? We don't have much time anymore and we really need to finish this project." Chan got closer to you, looking into your eyes. You wanted to run away. "Okay," he said. You stayed there looking for each other. You didn't know what to do. "A-are you going to kiss me?" you asked. Chan smirked. "I'm sorry, I'm a little nervous," he admitted. "You? Nervous?" "Yeah." "Chan, please. I've seen you kissing a bunch of girls a lot of times and you've never looked like you were nervous." "Yeah, but they were not you." Chan's words danced in your ears. "That's not funny." "What?" he asked. "It's not fun to play with someone's feeling like that." "I'm not playing with your feelings, Y/N. I'm serious." Chan touched your chin, making you feel shivers down your spine. One little touch and he had you on the palm of his hand. "I've known for a long time that you had a crush on me." You felt your cheeks burning. "I've always thought that you were amazing. Gorgeous, funny, smart. I just thought I wasn't good enough for you. But when I saw you kissing Jisung... I don't know. I felt so bad. I think I was used to having you around." Chan's hand that was on your chin ran to your cheek, holding the side of your face. "C-chan," you whispered. Chan shortened the distance between your bodies and kissed you. By the moment where his lips touched yours, you knew for sure that you would get addicted to it. His plump lips were soft and warm, welcoming yours like a tight hug. His other hand grabbed your waist, getting you closer to him. It was so soft and sweet, not something that you would expect from him. You held onto his neck, touching him to make sure you weren't dreaming. You wanted more. You slid your tongue in his mouth, deepening the kiss. Your hand ran through his chest until it reached the end of his shirt. You put your hand under his shirt, feeling his abs. "Y/N," Chan said. "Please," you whispered against his lips. You weren't thinking straight anymore. Chan's lips started to go down until they reached your neck. He sucked on it, making you whimper. "Are you sure about it? We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," he asked, looking right into your eyes. "I want to." Chan held your hand and took you to his room. He told you to lay on his bed. You never thought that this would happen one day. He laid down next to you, facing you. "We don't have to do anything, Y/N." He smiled, the stupid dimples making his face look cuter than ever. "We can just talk, maybe kiss and-" "Chan. I want you to fuck me." You were begging. You were begging for that cock like a little bitch and you were not embarrassed. Chan widened his eyes and swallowed hard. "Okay, okay," he giggled. He got on his knees and took his shirt off. You have never seen him shirtless and you were pretty much pleased by what you saw. You wanted to kiss every inch of his pale skin. Chan got on top of you. He kissed you, exploring your lips. You were wearing a dress that was quickly on the floor of his room. "Fuck," Chan groaned when he saw you only in lingerie. You saw the boner on his pants and licked your lips. You pushed him on the bed and got on top of him. You helped him so he could take off his pants and underwear. His dick was marvelous. Above average, thick, pink tip and veiny. You didn't waste time, you grabbed it and started to lick the head. Chan moaned, closing his eyes. You twirled your tongue around it while you pumped it with your hand. You sucked hard on the tip and Chan moaned again. You tried to go down on it as much as could, which wasn't much since deepthroating wasn't your specialty, but you guessed that Chan was enjoying it by the sounds he was making. Chan grabbed your head and stopped you. "Lay down, baby girl," he demanded. He opened the drawer of the nightstand next to his bed and grabbed a condom but he didn't put it on yet. Instead, he took off your lingerie and got between your legs. He slowly kissed your belly, going down your body. He bit the inside of your thighs, leaving marks behind. He finally went where you wanted him to. He licked your pussy lips, making you whine. He teased you, going from penetrating you with his tongue to licking your clit. You were moaning and whimpering, feeling your orgasm approaching. "Chan, please," you moaned. He started to finger you while he licked your clit. It was too much for you and you came on his mouth. Chan kept licking you until you couldn't take it anymore because of the overstimulation. He took the condom, slid it on his dick and, pumped it a few times. He kissed you, making you taste your own juices. He finally started to slide himself into you, slowly. You whined, feeling him stretching your pussy. "Fuck, baby. So fucking good," he whimpered. When he was fully inside, he gave you a deep kiss. He kissed you for a while, giving you time to get used to him inside of you. "C-chan," you moaned. He started to move, pounding into you at a slow and deep pace. You could feel every inch of him inside of you and you loved it. Chan's moaning was driving you crazy. "So good, baby," he said in your ear. His low voice went straight to your folds, getting you wetter. He kept it slow and intimate, rubbing his pelvis against your clit. "Chan, I'm g-gonna cum." "Cum for me, baby girl." You came again, feeling your legs shaking. Chan kept fucking you until he felt his high approaching. "Ah, fuck, baby," he whined when he came, thrusting deep inside of you. Chan lay down by your side. He took the condom off and threw it in the trash bin next to his bed.

He hugged you, making you lay on his chest. You stayed quiet, listening to his heartbeat, no words were needed. Chan played with your hair, his warm arms making you feel safe. Suddenly, your stomach growled. "Somebody's hungry," Chan teased. He started to move so he could get up. "No!" you whined. "I'm gonna get something for you to eat, baby," he giggled. You let go of him and Chan got up from the bed. He put on his underwear and went to the kitchen. You decided to put your clothes on. Some minutes later Chan came back. He widened his eyes when he saw you with your dress back on. "Are you leaving?" he asked, worried. "No, I just wanted to put it back on. Unless you want me to leave." "Of course not!" Chan sat by your side on the bed, he brought a plate with a sandwich and a cup of orange juice. "Here," he handed it to you. You ate while Chan talked about the songs he was producing. It was interesting to hear even though you had no understanding about the subject. "It's getting late. I'm gonna get dressed so I can take you home, okay?" he said. "You don't have to, Chan." "But I want to." Chan walked you to your apartment. He stayed with you in front of your dorm for a while, kissing and hugging you like he didn't want to let you go. Reluctantly, he went back home. When you went inside, you were surprised to see Felix sitting on the couch with Jisung, playing video games. "Wow, finally," he said. "That was a long kiss," Jisung teased. He didn't sound bitter, it really looked like he was being funny, which made you feel relieved. You sat between them, laying your head on Felix's shoulder. "I had sex with him." "Too much information," Jisung said. They laughed. "It's not funny, guys." "What's wrong, Y/N?" Felix asked. "Isn't that good? You've had a crush on him since forever." "Yeah, but what if I gave him what he wanted?" You got up from the couch, frustrated. "He had sex with me, so he will probably run for the next girl to fuck." "Y/N, I'm pretty sure he's head over hills for you," Jisung said. "I'm going to my room." Later that night you finished your project with Felix. It was due soon, so you were relieved but disappointed in yourself. You let yourself go so easily. You didn't want to feel like that, but you couldn't help it. You were feeling insecure. It wasn't just sex to you, you really felt a connection with Chan. But did he feel the same? What if he just acted as he liked you so he could fuck you? Claim you as his so he could show dominance against Jisung? You didn't know. The day to deliver the project finally arrived. You were relieved that it was finally done and the semester was almost over too. Soon you would be on vacation from college. When you were leaving the classroom, you saw Chan waiting for you outside. "Hey," he said when you got closer. "Hi." He hugged and kissed your cheek. "Wow, right in front of me, disgusting," Felix said. "Can I have your phone number?" Chan asked. "I thought of asking Felix, but I wanted to ask you in person. I also wanted to see you." "Yeah. Of course." "Hey, guys. I love both of you, but you are not going to make me the third wheel," Felix said, standing between you and Chan and intertwining his arms with yours and with Chan's. It was the last day of class. You and Felix got a 9 out of 10 on your project. Felix thought it deserved more but you were just happy that you did well. Your teacher said that she was impressed by the theme you chose. She loved how bold it was and it was exactly the type of stuff that she wanted. You laughed about the way Felix got excited because she complimented your project.

You were sitting in the cafeteria with Jisung, Felix and, Chan. At first, the idea of Chan and Jisung together made you uncomfortable, but they seemed to get along, so you were satisfied. Jisung also thought it would be better if he moved in with Felix so Chan could live in the dorm with you, which Chan promptly accepted. You went home with Chan, talking about your plans for your vacation and how you could spend time together. You ate and watched some TV, but you were really tired. Chan laid down on the couch and you laid on top of him, resting your face on his chest. You loved to stay with him like this, feeling the warmth of his body. You just stayed there with your eyes closed and feeling his perfume. Chan's phone rang and quickly answered, he didn't know that you were awake and he didn't want it to bother you. You heard him talking to some guy, he was inviting Chan to a party. "Thanks for inviting me, mate, but I'll have to decline," he said, almost whispering. "I'm with my girlfriend and I want to spend the day with her." You smiled. Chan was what you always wanted and you finally had it, and he also had you.

A/N: This is a long ass fanfic, I tried to proofread it but it might still have some grammatical errors. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

Sugary Sweet Apologies

Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)

A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.

“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.

“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.

“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.

“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.

You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”

Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.

“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.

-

David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.

He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.

“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”

Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.

“Excuse me?” David asked.

“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.

“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.

“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.

“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”

David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.

Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.

“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.

Spencer never checked on you.

-

You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.

However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.

During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.

“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.

No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.

“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.

“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.

“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.

“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.

Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.

Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.

“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.

The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.

Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.

Dear Reid,

Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.

Thanks again,

Y/L/N

Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.

You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.

He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.

Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.

“Is she okay?” he asked softly.

“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.

“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.

“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.

-

You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.

You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.

You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.

“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.

“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.

“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.

“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.

“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.

You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.

“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”

“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.

“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.

You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.

“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.

“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”

“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.

Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.

“It’s okay,” you understated.

You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.

“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.

“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

Spencer muttered something incoherent.

“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.

“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”

“In what way?” he curiously asked.

“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.

“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.

“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.

When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.

In typical elementary school fashion…

Will you go get coffee with me?

Check:

Yes

or

No

Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.

“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.

“It’s a date,” he smiled.

If you don't make a happy ending for couldn't care less you better keep bob with you at all times

HOW DARE YOU THREATEN BOB YOU KNOW WHAT-

Couldn’t Care Less .2

Shigaraki x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, death, blood, abuse, gore

~~~

“i hope that blue haired fuck got what he wanted. I hope that handyman freak dies alone.” You say to yourself as you walk down the alleys way of Musutafu. The smell of the dingey and moldy alleyways flood your nose as the laughter of happy couples ring in your ears. 

How come they got they’re happily ever after but you didn’t? It wasn’t fair. You did everything you could to be there for him. Yet he still treats you like shit, all because you cared about him? And then he thinks your cheating all cause you ask a male friend for advice! What an insecure asshole.

A vibrating in your pocket brought you back to reality as you realize your phone was ringing. Letting out a sigh you answer,

“Hello?”

“Come pick up your shit.” Oh, you thought you blocked this fuck.

“Keep it asshole. I don’t want anything that smells like ‘lonely bastard who only gets action from his hand’  on my clothes.  Burn it, decay it, I couldn’t give a shit less.”

“God you were always so dramatic. And there’s no reason to be a cunt.”

“And there was no reason for you to be an insecure dick. You either block my number or im calling the police and ratting on you.” A silence fell over the phone. Nothing was said until you finally spoke up.

“Jeez your pathetic. I’ll do it myself.” He was about to say something, insult your most likely before you hung up the phone and blocked him not seconds later.

“Now he’s outta my hair. I can finally feel some sort of calm.”

~~~

3 weeks later

After a day of coming back to your musty apartment you decided it needed a little bit of cleaning, considering you haven’t been their in about 4 months. You paid up front all the time even when you weren’t living in it. Just in case ya know?

You swept up the floors, vacuumed the carpet AND shampooed it.Cleaned the tub, shower and sinks, cleaned out your empty refrigerator, washed all you sheets and what clothes you left there. It wasn’t much so you knew you had to get some more before anything else. That and groceries.

 After all that was said and done, you sat down on the couch and just relaxed. Well you tired, that was before Shigaraki popped into your head again. It wasn’t a sort of loving way, it was a hatred sort of. The thought of his stupid face made you just want to punch a wall, pretending to be his face.

But you ignored it as you turned on the Tv, hoping that would get your mind off him. Nothing interesting except the news. Always talking about violence and war. Same old thing over and over. Blood, death, tragedy.

“This world is a cruel unjust place. The only way it seems to be recognized in this world is death or doing horrible things. Nothing good every comes to fruition.” You grumble before walking to your room and plopping down on the nice clean and still warm sheets. The nice smell of lavender slowly dragging you to sleep.

~~~

A loud bang hit your door which ripped you from your slumber. You were questioning on checking it out before you heard something that made your heart stop,

“If there’s anyone in the house kill them, we can’t have people knowing we ransacked this place.” You slowly get off your bed before moving slowly and quietly to your window. Your push your fingers on the glass and you gently push it up. Grabbing at the sides of the window you pull yourself out of it, not before hearing a gunshot and a burning pain inside your calf.

“Fuck! They’re getting away!” You could hear them from inside the house.

“Did they see you?!” You fell from your window onto the ground. Thankfully your apartment was on the first floor so it wasn’t a high drop.

“Not that i know of! I did shot them in the leg so they shouldn’t have gotten far!” You try your hardest as you run towards the main street. Cutting through alleyways, going as fast as you can as you hear they’re footsteps behind you. Looking up closely you see a hero, knowing he was your only chance you scream for help.

“Help me please!” The hero’s head turned towards you and ran towards you. You guess the robbers heard your cry for help because they’re footsteps seemed to be heading back your probably trashed apartment.

“Oh my! What happened?!” The sound of the hero’s concerned voice calmed you down a bit. 

“Some people tried to rob my place and i tried to get out of there silently but they must have came into my room and saw me leaving and shot me in the calf!” You wince as putting pressure on the wound burned hotter than hell.

“Don’t worry! I’ll get you to the hospital in no time!” You felt relieved before hearing a crunching sound, you looked to your left and see a familiar patch of blue hair in your peripheral vision. You ignored him before getting picked up by the hero and was carried to the hospital. The blood loss from your calf slowly dragged you into unconsciousness.

~~~

After waking up you notice the white room you were in. It was pristine to the touch and smelled of lemon cleaning products. The bright lights hallways peered inside your room from the crack of your door.

Looking around the small feeling of pain crept back into your leg except not as painful anymore. Pulling back the covers you notice bandages and a small bit of blood that stained through the bandages around your wound.

“Ah fuck that’s gonna scar. It’s gonna be a pain to heal too.” You say to yourself as you pull back the blankets and wrap yourself up in them. 

Right as you were falling back asleep the ringing of your cellphone brought you out. Grumbling in annoyance you grab it and look at the caller id. It was a number you didn’t recognize so you just let it ring thinking it’ll be the end of it. That was until it started ringing again. You sighed in frustration and picked up the phone, not wanting it to ring longer since it was in the dead of night at the hospital and you wanted people to be able to sleep.

“What the hell do you want? It’s the middle of the night.” You annoyed voice rang into the other side of the phone.

“Why tf were you talking to a hero? Did you fucking break your end of the bargain?” You were confused at first. You definitely knew the voice behind the phone. Then you remembered earlier that day when you saw him in the shadows.

“I was literally shot. You think im not gonna ask someone for help?” You rub the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t believe you. You always were a two faced bitch.”

“Oh jesus fuck, thanks for the insult. Glad to know what you always thought about me.”

“I’m going to kill you you backstabbing bitch.”

“Love ya too. goodnight and goodbye Shigaraki.” You hung up and blocked said number. You weren’t going to lie, hearing him spill such an insult and threat hurt you and made you very weary and afraid if he would actually go through with it or if he was just saying that to scare you.

You knew what those hands could do and you knew how painful that death would have been. You were hurt more than you liked to admit, at the beginning of your relationship he wasn’t aggressive or mean at all towards you.  He’d try to get you flowers or your favorite type of drink. He called you pet names that would make your heart flutter and beat, you don’t know what you did wrong for him to change so suddenly. It was like on day he flipped a switch, and you never knew why.

You tried recalling the day where it started and remembered that everyone was annoyed or being rude to Dabi, you didn’t know why and when you asked Spinner or anyone else they just said it was national, be a bitch to Dabi day. You laughed and shrugged it off ignoring it before walking up to your boyfriend giving him a kiss on the lips, only to be pushed into the wall and ignored. You just looked at him in shocked and it had only spiraled down from there to where you are now. 

Something had to be wrong. You knew it, Dabi had to have something to do with Shigaraki’s switch in behavior. You looked around the room for any camera and when you noticed that there were none, you called up the burnt male himself. He surprisingly picked up on the first ring.

“(Y/N)? I haven’t heard from you in 3 weeks. Or was it four? Doesn’t matter, where have you been?”

“Dabi, i need you to be honest with me, did you say something to Shigaraki?”

“Huh?”

“Dabi, five months ago Shigaraki flipped a switch and went from a caring boyfriend to an actually nightmare. I need to know if you or anyone else said something to him.” Dabi was quiet on the other line before sighing,

“About that time range i made a joke about sleeping with you, everyone knew it was a joke but apparently Shigaraki didn’t. I didn’t think he’d treat you like he did. Im sorry.” You fell silent. All this shit treatment because Shigaraki couldn’t a joke. Sure it pissed you off that Dabi made such a stupid joke but you were more mad at Shigaraki that he just treated you like shit instead of asking you and confronting you about it.

“Thank you for telling me. Do you know where Shigaraki is now?”

“He left about an hour ago, why?” Shit. You knew this was the only hospital close to your place and Shigaraki knew that too. You got up from your bed and locked the door before going back into your bed, watching the crack under your door incase the light was blocked.

“Dabi, I just want you to know that i forgive you.”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about-” Your phone went silent as the battery died.

‘Shit shit shit shit!’ you thought to yourself as you beg for the phone to turn back on. But you fell silent as the light from the outside of your room was blocked.

“(Y/N), I know you're in there, open the fucking door before i decay it down.” You said nothing in fear. You were glued to your bed as you faced the door.

But that fear was nothing compared to seeing him actually decay the door.

“You stupid snitch. i should make your death as painful as possible.” he said as soon as he stepped inside your hospital room. 

“Shigaraki, I didn’t snitch I promise. Why don’t you believe me!” You say as you get off your bed and try to get as far away from him as possible. The pain of the bullet would making you wince.

“Why would I believe a cheating bitch like you?” Before you could speak a four fingered grip wrapped itself around your throat. Shigaraki was always fast, you should have known that you were gonna die even if you tried your hardest.

“I didn’t cheat on you!” You try to pry yourself from shigaraki’s grip.

“Dabi says otherwise.”

“Are you really going to believe him?! You didn’t even talk to me or ask me about it! Just went straight to believing him!” The grip on your neck got tighter.

“then why was they’re a hickey on your collarbone?!”

“You gave it to me! It was fading out!”

“That doesn’t change the fact you snitched!” His pinkie was grazing closer to your skin.

“I never snitched, I was robbed and then they shot me. If you went to my apartment you would see i was right.” He said nothing just staring at you with cold dead eyes. 

“Look! I have bandages wrapped around my calf!” Shigaraki looked down before saying something back.

“It was something the hero’s did so they could protect you in this shit hospital.” I was at that moment you knew, nothing you said would change his mind. You shed not a tear while looking him in the eyes

“I wish I never met you. Fuck you Tomura Shigaraki, I hope you die alone and I’ll see you in hell.” You move your head so his last and final finger touched your skin.

The pain of your skin decaying and falling off was much more painful than you thought it would be. You can remember screaming in pain but, it felt more of a emotional scream rather than one of physical pain. but it seems you weren’t the only one screaming.

The sounds of Shigaraki wailing and screaming your name reached your ears before all you heard was silence and saw nothing.

Shigaraki scrambled to try and grab you and even put you together, but your bloody ashes stuck to his hand. Remains of your existence covered his clothes as he screamed in pain. 

“No no no no! Wait please! I didn’t mean it!” He cried as his tears fell onto your ashes, the tears collecting the ashes and forming a grey tear drop. He wasn’t thinking clearly, he’s sorry! He didn’t want to kill you! 

Bile rose from his throat as he puked all over the ground, inches away from your ashes. He grabbed your ashes trying to pick them up to hold what was left of you. But all he got was the remains of your smeared all over his hoodie. He shook violently as  memories of you guys replayed in his mind, your happy face and the way you use to love him and care for him.

But now, you were nothing more than ashes on his sleeve, reminding him that he was now truly alone.