Tanjoubi giving Lola Bee a lecture… he’s gone off topic 7 times now, and the conversation has gone from ‘don’t break plates’ to how sanitation procedures in medicine hundreds of years ago was abysmal

i can take you there but baby you won’t make it back

character: dabi | todoroki touya

notes: stepcest (kind of—ur parents aren’t married yet) with dabi-as-touya x a very naïve and inexperienced reader, normal!AU (no quirks, dabi also has tattoos over his scarred + fully healed skin), university!reader, implied yakuza!dabi, excessive use of the words niichan and good, praise kink, fingering, face fucking, title credit = save that shit by lil peep lmao  uhhhh yeah i hc dabi as a very intelligent and perceptive individual soooo i feel like he’d be a master at reading a person & their emotions and then adapting his manipulation techniques

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), noncon/dubcon, slight somnophilia, emotional manipulation, toxic relationship, size difference, slight degradation, mentions of drug use

words: 7.1k

part 2.1 | part 2.2

synopsis:

“You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, when you lay awake in your bed, you’ll feel ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

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Your dad’s been dating Rei for a while—nearly a year, now—when things begin to get serious, and he proposes to her.

She accepts, so it’s not exactly a surprise when she suggests you guys move in with her—she’s got more than enough space, she tells you, it’s just her and her son in that big old house—and your dad seems pretty thrilled about it. This was the next step before marriage, after all.

You like Rei well enough, she’s always been nothing but sweet to you, and anyway, your father’s relationship really isn’t any of your business or concern.

It isn’t that you don’t want to move in with her—her house is in a better part of the neighborhood, a standard detached upper-middle class home, and just a short walk from a bus stop that’ll take you directly to university, which you start in a week.

It’s just…You’re a little apprehensive.

You know she has kids. She mentions them in passing every once in a while, but you can’t for the life of you remember their names, or their ages, or how many of them there are. You know they don’t all live with her, that her relationship with her ex-husband is complicated and rocky at best.

But you’re still surprised to hear that only one of them, her eldest, lives with her. She tells you he’s five years older than you are, that he’s a clever, smart boy, going off on a tangent about how disappointed she is that he didn’t go to university, because ‘he would’ve done so well—he could’ve shone so brightly.’ Something about the way she says that, the way her voice sounds almost sad, makes anxiety turn to lead in your stomach. She talks about him as if he’s already a lost cause, but he’s only in his mid-twenties, isn’t he?

You understand the moment you see him. The man standing in front of you as you shift from foot to foot unsurely in the foyer of this unfamiliar house is about as far from what you anticipated as he could possibly be.

He’s tall, skin pale as moonlight, with jet black hair and the most stunning blue eyes you’ve ever seen. But that isn’t what captivates you. It isn’t the lip ring curled around his bottom lip snuggly, and it isn’t the tongue piercing you’re about to find out he’s hiding in his mouth, either.

Every inch of the exposed skin of his arms is covered in intricate, seamlessly flowing tattoos—or, for a moment, you thought it was tattoos, plural. Upon closer inspection, you realize that each arm is actually covered in one giant tattoo, giving a new definition to the term ‘sleeve’. It’s all black ink, not a splash of colour anywhere, depicting an extremely detailed and anatomically correct mechanical arm, complete with what would’ve been joints, ligaments and bones in the form of wires and steel.

The tattoos extend onto the tops of his hands, made to look as if surgical staples are peeling his skin back to reveal the robot beneath. This same tattoo continues up his neck, along his jaw and onto his cheeks, all the way to his bottom lip, spreading across his entire face and disappearing into his hairline and onto his ears. Finally, there’s a small portion of the tattoo underneath his eyes, the surgical staples lining the edges of the face tattoos, too.

It startles you—you’re not necessarily scared, you just…weren’t expecting that. But there’s no denying the rush of breath that involuntarily escapes your lips as your eyes search his face, raking over his body in a brazen way that should make you feel shameful, travelling back up to find him smirking smugly at you, raising an eyebrow as your eyes meet again.

The look in his eyes tells you he knows, knows what you’re thinking about, knows how undeniably attracted you are to him, and scalding heat floods your cheeks.

He chuckles a little, which does nothing but add insult to injury, and sharp anger slices through your chest at the way that you stomach absolutely drops at his gravelly voice. You can’t believe yourself, can’t believe your body is reacting and responding so readily to this man—this stranger.

He introduces himself as Touya, in that rough, deep voice that forces a jolt of electricity to run through your veins. You idly wonder what your name would sound like on his tongue, how it might sound if his voice dropped to a growl, find yourself stuck thinking about this for the rest of the night.

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To your disappointment, and as much as you are unabashedly interested in him, you don’t interact much with Touya for your first few weeks in the house—in fact, you barely see him at all.

This only piques your curiosity about him more, finding that you’re unable to tear your eyes from him on the rare occasion that you are in a room together. He catches you staring every single time, and he has the audacity to chuckle to himself and shake his head when his gaze meets yours, your eyes quickly darting away and cheeks burning at his laugh.

You begin gathering little tidbits of information about him, purely sourced from interactions you witness in the house, desperately praying for something that’ll give you an opportunity to start a conversation with him.

Your efforts prove fruitless when, almost a month and a half since you moved in, you’ve still only spoken a handful of words to him. You do learn a bit about him through observing, though.

You discover that he’s a smoker, which really doesn’t come as a shock at all. Marlboro’s are his favourite, and he’s always got a pack in his back pocket or rolled up in the short sleeve of his t-shirt. He must have them imported—Marlboro’s are incredibly rare to find all the way in Japan.

Touya must have a lot of things imported.

You find out that every other Thursday, Touya discreetly stuffs an absurdly large wad of cash—all composed of ten-thousand-yen bills—into his mom’s hands, forcing her fingers to curl around it. She fights him on it, every time, but he’s firm and adamant that she take it. It always ends with Rei giving him a small, watery smile, Touya pressing a kiss against the side of her head and murmuring that he loves her.

After you witness this interaction for the first time, you begin to notice that, while the house looks relatively normal on the outside, it is stuffed full of luxury on the inside. Flat-screen TVs each complete with full entertainment systems, state of the art appliances that are somehow up to date with all of the latest trends (including a smart fridge—absolutely ridiculous), custom made furniture, ornate rugs, a housekeeper that drops by every Sunday…

You have no idea what he does for work, but you think you’ve got at least some sort of idea when you catch him one night, just past 2AM, exiting his room and using a thumb to brush excess white powder off his nose. His eyes catch yours, pupils blown and shining in the low light, and he smiles darkly at you, winking once as he walks away.

You don’t ask—no one ever does.

You don’t ask about the crimson splattered on the toe of his boot, or why he sometimes smells metallic, like copper, the strong scent wafting after him and invading the halls as he stalks leisurely toward the bathroom. You don’t ask why he leaves the house at odd hours in the night, and you definitely don’t ask about the soft clinking and clicking you hear through the thin walls every so often while he cleans his gun at 3AM.

You’re not sure if it’s really any of your business, anyway. So you stay quiet, and continue to wait.

The opportunity finally comes one Wednesday in October, two weeks before Halloween, when you’re in the kitchen after school busy fixing yourself an afternoon snack. Touya comes home uncharacteristically early—you rarely see him before 10PM, so his entrance scares you, and you jump a little.

“Sorry,” he murmurs as he passes by behind you, just an inch too close, just enough so you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, shaking your head a little and trying in vain to stop your hands from trembling as you spread peanut butter across a piece of bread.

You can feel his eyes on you, and it makes you nervous, makes your skin crawl in a way you’ve never felt before. He laughs a little at your struggling, leaning against the counter next to you and crossing his arms over his chest.

“You don’t have to be so nervous around me, y’know,” he says with a smirk, eyes glittering at the way your lips part in surprise, your breath stuttering a little. “I’m your niichan after all, aren’t I?”

You hadn’t even considered using the honorific until he himself uses it.

Your hands freeze, hovering over your plate, and you look over at him slowly. “You…Want me to call you that?”

“You can, if you’d like,” he says smoothly, nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It makes no difference to him, he tells you, but when he finally looks back at you, you think you can see it in his eyes—a sharp, small glimmer of…of something. Something that makes your stomach twist in a way you can’t decide if you like or not.

But this is it, you think, this is your opening to finally begin talking to him.

So you do. And the smirk he gives you the first time you address him by the honorific, voice quivering slightly as you ask him where Rei normally keeps the blender, is nothing short of predatory.

“It’s on the top shelf. It’s too high for you, though,” he says, voice so sickly sweet it almost sounds mocking. “Let niichan get it for you,”

It isn’t, but you let him get it for you anyway.

And he knows—knows he’s got you the moment you gasp at the honorific leaving his lips, trying to hide it behind your hand, nodding quickly and squeaking out a thank you.

It starts after that. He begins playing with you; a sick, perverse game of cat and mouse, hunter and hunted, and you play your part perfectly.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said it didn’t send wicked sparks of excitement shooting up your spine and an intense fluttering in your stomach.

And it starts slow. It starts with gentle pet names—honey, sweetheart, princess—and fingertips trailing down your arm as he passes you. It starts with a large hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you—out of the house and into his car, out of the kitchen and into the living room, out of the hallway and into his bedroom—and with little pecks on your lips stolen when no one’s watching, quick kisses that leave you feeling exhilarated despite their chastity.

Suddenly, he’s home a hell of a lot more. He’s sitting too close to you on the couch while you curl up with a textbook, his thigh pressed against you and flesh burning hot through his black jeans. He’s joining the family dinner a few times a week, idly hooking and unhooking his ankle with yours beneath the table while smirking at you from across it.

Suddenly, he’s asking you if you need a ride to school, or if you need someone to pick you up. You don’t, you tell him, the bus is just fine, but he insists. It’s what niichans do, he says. He wants to take care of you, he says.

Who are you to deny him that, really?

✰          ✰          ✰          

The first time you experience Touya angry is about a month after the inciting incident, when he catches you walking home with a few of your university friends.

He had texted you earlier that day, telling you that he—very regretfully, he said—would be unable to pick you up from school this afternoon because ‘something had come up’.

You didn’t question what it was—you knew he’d lie even if you did. So you accepted it obediently, reassured him that it was fine, that you’d find another way home.

You’re pretty sure if you had told him that you didn’t have any extra change on you for the bus suddenly whatever important thing that had ‘come up’ which so desperately needed his attention wouldn’t be so urgent anymore. But you didn’t want to be a bother, or inconvenience him, so you say nothing.

Two friends decide they’ll accompany you on your walk home, so you aren’t lonely, they claim. Normally, the walk from campus to your house is about thirty minutes, but that day it takes you nearly an hour, wasting time goofing around and walking slowly as you talk idly.

Touya’s already pissed that it’s taken you so long to arrive home, that you’ve ignored all of his extremely considerate texts asking if you’re alright, but when he sees you squished between two boys, giggling as the three of you stumble up your driveway—he’s fucking fuming.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asks, voice calm and monotonous, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Your head snaps up—you swear he wasn’t there just a second ago—blood running cold.

His stance is relaxed, arms crossed loosely over his chest, lazily raising an eyebrow as your wide eyes meet his. Technically, the only indication that he’s furious is the blazing blue fire in his eyes, but your friends can read the tension in the air surrounding him, shuffling a little closer to you. This minuscule action does not go unnoticed by Touya, sharp jaw clenching once.

“You had niichan worried,”

You’re frozen a few feet away from the porch, unable to find your voice, to move your legs, to breathe at all.

“I didn’t know you had an older brother,”

Your eyes do not leave Touya’s as you speak, the words hoarse. “Oh, we’re—”

“Yeah,” Touya bites, irritation finally bleeding into his voice. “She does,” his eyes float back to yours. “Come here, princess,”

Your body snaps into action, moving automatically before you can even comprehend it, allowing Touya to tuck you into his side the moment you reach him.

Your hands are shaking, but you have no control over them as your fingers curl in his white t-shirt, clinging to him. To your surprise, the arm around your shoulders hugs you closer in response, thumb caressing you.

“Thanks for making sure she got home safely,” he tosses over his shoulder, managing to make the simple sentence sound like an insult, tone bordering on patronizing, while he turns on his heel, marching you both inside.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you’re rushing to say the moment the front door shuts behind you two, Touya’s arm still wrapped firmly around you.

He looks down at you coldly. “Don’t you dare pull shit like that again,” he tells you, eerily calm voice forcing spikes of icy dread up your spine. He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in as his eyes bore into yours. “You had me worried sick,” he breathes out then, squeezing you again. You’re surprised in the sudden change of tone, feeling your chest swell at the thought of him fretting over you, a small smile gracing your lips.

“I…I did?”

Touya’s eyebrows furrow, as if he’s offended at your questioning, mood morphing in the span of a second. “Of course you fucking did,” he spits like you’re stupid, arm dropping. “Do you ever check your phone?”

“Wh-What?”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Check your phone,” he calls out airily as he begins walking into the kitchen, shaking his head a little, disappointment rolling off him in waves.

Hastily fishing your phone out of your bag, you’re astonished to see eight texts from him and three missed calls. You scroll through the texts quickly, each one making you feel more nauseous than the next. ‘Is everything okay? You should’ve been home by now’; ‘Please answer me, princess, you’re making your niichan nervous’; ‘Where are you? Answer my fucking calls already’. Guilt turns sour in your mouth and you hurry after him.

“I-I really am s-so sorry,” you force the words out, unsure as to why there are suddenly tears stinging your eyes. He isn’t even doing anything—his back is facing you as he nonchalantly begins brewing a pot of coffee.

But the thought of him being upset with you, of losing his approval, sends a sharp pain searing through your chest.

“Are you?” he asks, and although his voice holds no malice in it, it causes your whole body to stutter with a harsh breath.

“Yes,” you whimper out, latching onto his arm and tugging in an attempt to draw his eyes to yours, to see how regretful you are, the remorse written across your face. “I should’ve…That was so careless and inconsiderate of me,”

“It was,” he agrees simply, voice still light, as if he’s discussing something as mundane as the weather. “But you’ll never do it again, right?”

“Right,” you agree readily, breathing out the word before you even realize what you’re agreeing to.

“Tell niichan you’ll never worry him like that again,” he finally looks over at you.

“I-I’ll never worry you like that again, niichan, I pr-promise,”

His eyes hold yours for what feels like eons, before he finally twists his arm out of your grasp, instead wrapping it around you and tugging you against his body. You stay staring up at him, eyes wide and obedient, breath bated as you wait for your next order, so pliant and ready to serve him.

“Good,” he whispers, eyes finally softening, and you feel like you can breathe properly again. His free hand cups your face, thumb running along your lips, then your chin, then your jaw. “You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, you’ll lay awake in your bed, feeling ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

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He begins to trust you more. You meet his friends, each one terrifying in their own right. Jin is alright, although his brain is fried from drugs, and he talks to and contradicts himself a lot, earning the nickname Twice from Tomura.

Tomura horrifies you to your very core—a tall, lanky man with sunken red eyes and sickly pale skin who looks like he’s one bad day away from death—and Touya tells you very sternly to stay away from him.

A university student not unlike yourself, Keigo is your favourite. Keigo is the most normal, with his wild blonde hair and enticing gold eyes that always look like they’re playfully holding the secrets of the universe just out of your grasp.

Keigo’s brain is always going a hundred miles a minute, although you’d never guess it with his trademark lazy drawl, speaking as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. But he can always keep a conversation going, knows exactly what to say to avoid awkward silences or lulls in the discussion, and you appreciate that. You think he’s so cool—he has so much knowledge about the oddest things, everything and anything, ‘a walking encyclopedia’, Tomura calls it, and it fascinates you to no end.

It’s the speed, Touya tells you one night while you’re laying on the couch, your body on top of his, the pads of his fingers dragging down your back in rhythmic strokes. Speed is Keigo’s drug of choice, you find out. Speed is the reason why Keigo knows as much as he does.

“Sometimes he doesn’t sleep for days,” Touya says. “That’s how he has all the time to memorize everything he knows—though that big overactive brain of his plays a part in it, too,”

The thought inexplicably makes your heart sink in your chest, and you don’t say anything else. If Touya notices your shift in mood, he doesn’t mention it. You idly wonder what Touya’s drug of choice is, but you’re too scared of the answer to ask.

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It’s only a few nights later when you wake with a violent jolt, breathing laboured as you absentmindedly press your palm to your chest, trying in vain to calm your racing heart.

A nightmare.

You sit in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of your own harsh breaths echoing off the walls and debating what to do next. A minute later, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, wincing when your bare feet touch the cold hardwood, and pad down the hallway.

You try to trick yourself into believing that you aren’t using this purely as an excuse to spend the night with him. It really was so scary, you reason with yourself, it really has made you all shaken up…

Who are you kidding? You didn’t even attempt to go back to sleep.

You’ve been in his room plenty of times now—sitting daintily on his bed as he introduces you to new music, new movies, new books. Stuff that reminds him of you, he says, stuff that he thought you might be interested in. You’re grateful for it; there are so many things you’ve learned in the short time you’ve known him.

That isn’t all, though. There’s no denying the warmth that spreads through your body, that tiny excited flutter in your chest, when he calls your name and interlaces your fingers, leading you toward his room and telling you he’s got something to show you.

Yes, you’ve been in his room plenty of times now. But this is the first time you spend the night in his bed.

He’s still up, soft golden light leaking from under his closed bedroom door. Your hand quivers a little as you lift it to rap your knuckles against the wood. He appears in the doorway a moment later, leaning against the frame in a black t-shirt that looks like it’s a size or two too small for him, riding up to reveal a teasing sliver of milky skin, tips of his hipbones jutting out from the waistband of his plaid pajama pants.

“Princess? What is it?”

You didn’t realize you were staring, and you jump a little at his gravelly voice.

“Oh. I, um—Well, I just…had a nightmare a-and I can’t sleep,”

You can barely look him in the eyes as you say it, your cheeks burning. You both know it’s a lie.

But he plays along.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, drawing you into his arms, into his room, into his bed.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs as he turns on his side to face you, propping his head up with a hand. “Poor thing. Was it a bad one?”

Your mouth feels like its been stuffed with cotton, rendering you incapable of speech, tongue dry and sluggish. You nod in response, heat seeping into your cheeks again at just how loudly your heart is thumping while you roll onto your side. There’s only a few inches of space between your bodies now, his hot breath fanning across your face as he speaks again.

“Do you want niichan to help you forget about it?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes searching his. Your thighs squeeze together at the way his voice has dropped an octave, low and husky, familiar heat pooling in the depths of your belly. He waits patiently, lifting a hand to caress your cheek, then runs his fingertips down your bare arm, goosebumps following.

Finally, you nod. You think you see the corners of his lips quirk up into the slightest hint of a smirk, but you blink, and it’s gone.

“Here,” he whispers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. Hand cupping your jaw, he tilts your face up and slots his mouth against yours.

You’ve kissed before, of course—in his bed, in yours, on the living room couch, on the kitchen counter with his hips shoved between your thighs—but this…this feels different.

These are kisses with intent, with purpose, with a goal in mind. These are kisses that keep you distracted—slow, soft, messy with saliva—as his hand slips down your body and between your thighs.

Your gasp breaks the kiss, wide eyes blinking up at him then fluttering shut as he brushes a knuckle against your clit. He hushes you, nimble fingers spreading your folds before he drags them up your slit, huffing out a laugh at how wet you already are.

“Were you thinking about something naughty before?” he gasps mockingly, sliding the pads of his fingers back down as he speaks.

His hand withdraws from your shorts and he orders you to lift your hips, tugging the waistband down your thighs. You squirm a little, forcing them further down your legs until you free yourself of them completely, eyes gazing up at him again, awaiting your next command.

Legs part dutifully as his hand travels back down to the apex of your thighs, pushing a finger into your soaking pussy.

It’s slow at first, thrusting leisurely with his middle finger a few times and loosening you up a little before adding his ring finger. Sapphire eyes watch his motions, captivated by how your eager little cunt sucks his fingers in selfishly.

“Look at that, huh?” he breathes, looking down at you. “Such a pretty little pussy you’ve got,”

You open your bleary eyes to peer at yourself, mesmerized by the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, glistening in the dim light of his bedroom. He curls his fingers and you inhale sharply, hips twitching toward his palm.

“Oh?” he chuckles darkly, knuckles nudging the spot again. “Did niichan find something, baby?”

You don’t know, you’re not sure, you try to tell him, but all you can seem to manage is pathetic little whines while you nod your head.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he’s asking as the pads of his fingers tap against that spot, your entire body jolting.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper out, a little breathlessly. “But it’s never felt like this,”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, and it’s so condescending. “Then you weren’t doing it right, sweetheart,”

He quickens his pace, chuckles at the way you try to desperately fuck yourself on his fingers at such an awkward angle.

“Poor little thing, can’t even get herself off properly,” he tsks. “You need your niichan to do it for you, don’t you?”

Soft whines spill from your throat as you nod eagerly, your stomach coiling tightly.

“One day,” he breathes, curling his fingers with a vengeance this time, your hips rolling up off the mattress. “When we have the time, I’ll teach you how to make yourself feel so good,”  

He’s talking too much. You want to tell him this, tell him to shut the hell up, but every time you try to speak he presses the heel of his palm to your clit and grinds against it, effectively scattering all of your thoughts, soft mewls of niichan the only sound escaping your lips.

Can’t deny his voice is fucking hot though, a form of foreplay all on its own.

And he knows this, can read you like a goddamn book, especially when he’s got his fingers two knuckles deep inside of you. He can feel it, he tells you. You don’t even need to speak; he can feel your thoughts when his voice drops an octave and your cute little hole flutters, when he chuckles and your pussy clenches around his fingers—a slut for his voice, aren’t you?

“Pretty baby, you can’t do anything but nod dumbly, can you? Been fucked stupid by my fingers alone, huh?”

Your head barely moves, lost all control of your body by this point, only able to whimper in response.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, pretty girl?” the knuckle of his thumb begins grazing your clit in quick strokes. “C’mon, make a mess for niichan,”

And it’s pathetic, how quickly your body obeys. Your pussy squeezes once, twice, three times and you’re gushing all over his fingers, juices collecting in his palm, running down his wrist. You’re embarrassed—you’ve never cum that much before, have you?

Breathing still ragged, you nuzzle into his sheets, partially hiding your face from him. Nothing could hide the involuntary grin that forms on your lips, though. Arms snake under your boneless body, tugging a bit.

“Oh no, baby, we aren’t done yet,” Touya’s saying while he hoists you up, letting you lean heavily against him.

Head tilting in confusion, your glazed eyes find his. “Wh-What?”

He looks down at his lap and your gaze follows, a tiny whimper slipping past your lips at the bulge straining against his pants. “Doesn’t niichan deserve a nice reward for helping you forget that scary dream?”

Eyes darting back to his, you nod slowly, whispering out, “Yes. But—But…” But you’re hesitant; you’ve never done anything like this before. Shaking hands reach for the waistband of his pants, beginning to pull them down but freezing when the head of his cock peeks out.

Touya sighs. “Come on, you wanna be a good girl for niichan, don’t you?”

Of course. Of courses you do.

Then he wants you to touch him, he says. He’ll help you; he promises.

“But you gotta get it wet first,”

You ask how, and he laughs at you. “With your tongue, stupid,” he tells you.

He instructs you to kneel on the floor and you comply immediately, trembling legs folding beneath your body as you situate yourself between his knees. He inches forward on the bed a little, shuffling himself to the edge and caging you between his thighs. Bringing his cock close to your mouth, he taps the head against your closed lips.

They part instantly, obediently, his eyes flashing with something sinister as you take the head into your mouth and suck hesitantly, big eyes staring up at him waiting for approval.

He curses, his hips twitching ever so slightly, skin stretched taut over bony knuckles as a hand forms a fist in the sheets. Starting with kitten licks at first, the tip of your tongue barely touches him, tracing veins, then begins to gain more confidence as he groans a little, telling you what to you, that you’re doing good, so good for him.

Watching him through thick lashes, you have the audacity to look bashful as your tongue laves around the shaft, drenching it in saliva. A hand tangles in your hair and yanks, pulling you off his cock when he decides it’s sufficiently wet enough. Long fingers encircle your wrist, bringing your hand to form a fist around him.

“Like this,” he says, jerking your hand up and down.

You’re terrible at it, movements awkward and uncoordinated, but in that moment he doesn’t really care. He’s irritated a little, wondering out loud how anyone can be bad at handjobs while a large hand wraps around yours and forces you to speed up. Bad? Your heart sinks at the small three letter word, a hard lump forming in your throat, looking as though you may start crying.

But he cums quickly after that, ropes of searing hot white painting your cheeks and face. You watch him the entire time, panting a little, lips parted slightly and your tongue darts out to lick them, tasting him.

He laughs at your bitter reaction, and it’s such a patronizing sound.

“Don’t worry,” he says, collecting the cum off your face and forcing his fingers into your mouth. “Someday I’ll stuff your throat full of it.”

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

You can no longer mention needing—no, wanting—anything around him anymore, because within the next few days it’s sitting pretty and perfect on your bed, propped up against your lace trimmed pillows.

He’s so good to you; you should be grateful you have such a generous niichan, one who eats you out and spoils you with gifts. You’re so spoiled.

And he tells you this, in the dead of night when you wake to find him shoving his cock into you, snarling a little at your soft whines of protest.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns. Just be a good girl and take his cock. He does so much for you, can’t you be good for him?

Yes, yes, you want to be good for him, you want to be the best for him.

By this point you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night with his head between your thighs, prepping you to take him.

“Stay sleeping, baby,” he’ll tell you, words whispered into your hair as his cockhead nudges against your hole.

As if you could ever stay sleeping when only a few minutes later he’s pounding you into oblivion, large hand clasped over your mouth so tightly his blunt nails are digging into your cheek, so hard that it’s yanking your head back, neck beginning to ache.

He tells you to be quiet, “You don’t want anyone to hear, do you? Then we’d have to stop, and you don’t want that, right, sweetheart?”

You don’t, you whimper. Of course you don’t—you want whatever he wants, you want to be his perfect little baby, you want to be told how good you take his cock, the praise mumbled against your skin in a low, strained voice right before he fills you with cum.

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

He disappears for a few days near the end of December. You have no idea where, Touya answering your curious texts with playful quips at first before he grows tired of it and tells you to stop fucking asking.

But eventually, he returns.

The front door slams shut and your body flinches with a jolt of excitement. Adrenaline spikes your blood when you hear his heavy boots colliding with the hardwood, getting louder, louder, louder…

He passes right by you, not glancing at you at all. Moments later, the sound of water hitting the tiled shower wall echoes down the hallway.

And you wait. Patiently, you wait, like the good little girl you are, not daring to move a muscle. Eventually he re-emerges, hair still damp, a few strands sticking to his neck.

With a groan, he collapses on the couch next to you, flopping his head into your lap and gazing up at you with glazed, blown sapphire eyes.

“You’re high,” you say softly, not accusatory, just an observation. He giggles a little.

“So what if I am?”

“What did you take?”

“Oh,” he gasps mockingly. “Oh no, baby, I can’t tell you that,”

Why? The question is burning on the tip of your tongue, and you can tell that he’s anticipating that to be your next response, but you bite down on your bottom lip, holding it in. You know his answer already, can practically hear his patronizing voice—Because good baby sisters aren’t supposed to know about stuff like this.

“Can I try some?” you ask instead.

All of the mirth fades from his eyes in an instant, and he moves in a flash despite his inebriated state, so quick you can barely tell what’s happening. His large hand wraps around your bicep in a bruising grasp, pulling you towards him as he sits up, his face an inch away from yours.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he spits, cobalt eyes blazing and voice rumbling against your chest. “And if I so much as catch wind that you’re using, have a mere feeling that you’ve tried it—even just once—I’ll slaughter you and the fucker you got it from. Do you understand me?”

Surprised tears spring into your eyes and you nod jerkily, body beginning to tremble as your breath gets caught in your throat. You want to tell him that you didn’t mean it, honest, you promise!; that you were just kidding around, you swear!, but you can’t, voice mangling itself with the hitched little breaths on the back of your tongue.

He growls at your silence, his grip around your arm tightening and you cry out, terrified that he might actually crush the bone with his bare hand.

“Say, yes Touya, I understand,”

“Y-Yes Touya, I understand,” you manage to stutter out, voice returning only at the command of a direct order, tears spilling over and rolling down your cheeks in pairs. His eyes search your face for a moment, his features contorted in fury, before he sneers at you, squeezing your arm once then roughly letting go, shoving you away from him.

You fall backward against the arm of the couch, heart thumping so vigorously you’re sure he can hear it. He groans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, exasperated.

“Fuck,” he sighs, eyes opening to glare at the ceiling. “You’ve ruined my high,”

You stare at him, breath coming out in uneven huffs, clinging to the couch.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, terrified to move lest you upset him more.

He’s silent for a moment, still staring up, until he lolls his head to the side, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. A small smirk spreads across his face.

“C’mere,” he says, nodding his head a little in indication.

“Wh-What?”

“C’mere,” he repeats. “Come make it up to me,”

Your body’s moving before you’ve given it permission to, crawling into his lap obediently, thighs on either side of his hips. His smirk widens, and you love it—you love how much control he has over you without even trying, you love the way a quiet whimper slips through your lips as his large hands begin kneading your flesh, running up your legs and grabbing your ass.

Lips trail up the column of your neck, and you tilt your head back, a silent plea for more. You can feel the way his lips curl into a grin against your skin, nipping at it a second later.

“So, how you gonna make it up to me? Huh?” he shifts his hips under you, pressing his hard cock into your clothed core. You whine a little, grinding against him.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” you breathe out while sharp teeth mar your collarbone.

“The hell you waiting for? Show me,”

You begin sliding down his body and he pushes on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees between his spread thighs. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, gaping pupils outlined by a thin ring of blue.

Holding his gaze, you lean forward with your pretty little tongue hanging out and begin licking along the straining bulge, tracing it slowly, the denim rough against your sensitive muscle. You relent though, lapping at his clothed cock in slow, long strokes, and his jeans are just thin enough for you to feel him pulse in response.

A giggle bubbles up past your lips, muffled by the denim, already beginning to feel heady as you pull simple reactions from him. Your mouth forms a cute little ‘o’ and you suck on him the best you can through his jeans, drooling all over his lap and soaking through the material.

The hand in your hair tightens into a fist, yanking hard and pulling your mouth away. “Stop fucking teasing,” he warns, a hint of something ominous in his voice.

You obey, because you always obey, tiny fingers working to quickly unbuckle his belt, pop the button, yank down the zipper. He aids you, lifting his hips and allowing you to tug his jeans down his thighs enough for his cock to spring out.

His own hand wraps around the shaft, you pausing mid-action as you reach for it.

“Open,” he demands, your dutiful lips parting immediately, letting him push his cock into the warm, wet cavern.

He sets a brutal, punishing pace from the start, refusing to give you a single moment to adjust. His other hand fists in your hair, forcing you to stay still as he rams his cock down your throat.

Reflexive tears burn your eyes, blurring your vision. You blink quickly to clear them, desperate to watch him, to catalogue all of his micro-expressions and the sound of his voice as he grunts out your name, to burn it into your mind, etch it into your very soul.

Touya’s head falls back against the couch, Adams apple bobbling with his rough whimpers, long neck and sharp collarbone on full display. If your mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, you’d love to lick up his smooth skin, to trace the dips of his collarbone with your tongue and sign your name in brilliant splotches of blue and purple.

You’re gagging around his cock now, starting to feel lightheaded and struggling to inhale enough oxygen. The ache in your jaw is beginning to spread, but you ignore it, stretching your mouth open wider, to take more, to be good for him, to make him proud. It’s worth it for the hoarse, throaty moans you’re pulling from him, to hear your name shuddered out, followed by a breathy, “Fuck,”

He forces hot cum down your throat a moment later, and you choke on it, sputtering around his cock, throat spasming as it tries to force the foreign object out. He won’t let it, though. He holds your head in place, nose pressed against his pubic bone, and you can do nothing but take it, like a good little girl, like he tells you to.

But it’s all worth it. It’s all worth it, to hear his broken whines like that, to have him look down at you and pull your hair and tell you you’re good, so good for him.

And you’re sobbing by the end of it, gasping for air the moment he lets go of you, wheezing violently as your head collapses against his thigh.

“Did I—” you cough, voice raspy from having your throat fucked raw, “—Did I make it up to you, niichan?” you gaze up at him, eyelashes spiky with residual water. You’re the perfect picture of obedience, strands of hair stuck to your face where your salty tears have dried and swollen lips gleaming with saliva as you watch him with glittering eyes, waiting desperately for his praise.

He looks down at you, eyes devious and diabolical, chest heaving a little. “Of course you did,” he tells you, corners of his lips tugging up into a sharp smirk as you melt into him. “You always do, don’t you?”

Voices {Diana Prince x Fem!Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2343 Summary: Jealousy is hard to tame, even in an Amazonian Princess. Warnings: Smut.

Diana had never been the jealous type. That was until had come along and joined the Justice League, the only other female in this male-dominated group. You weren’t quite as powerful as Diana, but you contributed a lot to the team, and knew how to handle yourself in a fight. Your powers of creating a force field had saved the ass of each one of these lunatics at least once. Even Superman had owed you a debt of gratitude for your powers, all of which you took with a grin. But out of all of them, the one that you seemed to be the closest with was Bruce - and that is where Diana’s jealousy came in.

You, like Bruce, were also from Gotham, so there had been that instant connection there. You would often talk about restaurants, about high school, about people and if there was any overlaps in where you used to hang out. It turns out you used to frequent some of the same places, despite being from totally different backgrounds. You two could often be seen talking and laughing around the coffee machine, or going out to dinner - which made the tabloids go wild. The rest of the league knew that you two were just friends but Diana had always suspected something.

She had originally thought that she would be the one that you would bond with, given that you were a woman. And yes, you two were friendly enough but it wasn’t quite what she had pictured. You would catch eyes in the hallway and nod at one another, and you worked well out in the battlefields of the world. When she saw you with Bruce, your voice would flow through her head like music, while Bruce’s was grating, like nails on a chalkboard. It affected her relationship with Bruce, which had once been friendly but now, being around him just felt like the annoying co-worker.

You and Bruce came into the Batcave from going out to dinner, and you were talking about the couple who had been sitting next to you. “I think it’s romantic,” You were saying about them.

“I think it’s convenient,” Bruce was shrugging off his jacket. “I know a thing or two about gold-diggers, y/n, and that man was one of them.”

“Sometimes, Bruce, I think you see the world in too dark a light,” You said, finally noticing that the others were gathered around, with only Diana and Barry eavesdropping. Cyborg was hooked into a supercomputer, and Clark was in his ordinary Clark attire, looking at his phone. “Oh, was there a meeting?”

“No, I was just bored,” Barry said. There was a flash of yellow, and he was standing right beside you, offering you a bag of chips. “Hungry?”

“Just ate, but thank you. I don’t think I could take another bite,” You protested. Bruce did the same with an elegant gesture of his hand, and you went your separate ways. Bruce went to hang up his jacket while you strode over to see what Clark was doing. Diana was sitting alone at the table now, watching the way that your dress moved about your body. She admired it on you. It was white and gold, and reminded her of home, though this was much more formal than functional. The sleeves draped over your shoulder, exposing the soft flesh of your collar and arms. As you bent over to peek at his phone and see who he was texting, she caught the curve of your breast, and looked away quickly, face glowing red in shame.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look. But rather, she wanted you to be the one to show her, of your own free will. She wanted you to ask her to unzip the dress and watch as you stepped out of it, completely bare. These thoughts clouded her mind to the point where she didn’t notice that Barry had slipped into the chair beside her and was staring at her, grinning.

“You’re so obviously in love, just go ask her out!” He said, a little loudly. Diana shushed him quickly, and darted her eyes back to see if you had noticed. But you were teasing Clark about his girlfriend, Lois at this point and didn’t seem to have overheard.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Diana said, turning back towards Barry. “Isn’t there some marathon that you should be running?”

“Ouch, you get mean when you’re jealous.”

“I am not jealous,” Diana said, though she knew that it was a lie. Jealousy was a snake that was making it’s way through her nerves, and if she didn’t do something about it soon, she was afraid she was going to burst. The toxicity was unscrewing itself.

She stood up and made her way to the bathrooms. There were two, side by side, neither of them labeled as male or female because it seemed stupid. Just pick a bathroom and use it. She went inside and ran some cold water over her hands and patted at her flawless face. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw the red coming across her cheeks. She saw that glint in her eye that she didn’t like. Though alone, with the only sound being the pipes, she thought she could hear your voice. Laughing. Then Bruce. Probably saying something witty. Oh, I’m Bruce Wayne, I’m rich. I’m Batman.

She splashed herself again, trying to get control over these negative emotions. She dried her face with some paper towel and went to step out, planning on leaving the Bat Cave since she wasn’t needed here, but when she opened the door - you were standing there. You looked startled by the door opening, but your open mouth turned into a frown. “Are you okay?”

You pushed your way into the well lit bathroom with her, and closed the door behind you. Your hand then went to her forehead, reaching up because the Amazonian woman was so tall, and tried to feel for a fever. “Do I look sick to you?” Diana asked, raising an eyebrow, but let you touch her skin, her face. It brought that heat back but it was a different kind.

“Well, your cheeks look a little flushed, and you have been more quiet than usual,” You said, stepping back with a frown. “But you don’t have a fever, so hurray for small miracles.”

“Good,” Diana said with a nod. “But I could have told you that I’m not sick. I don’t get sick.”

“Of course, your immune system is probably as crazy powerful as you are,” You chuckled. “Is there something else wrong then? I mean, you look amazing as usual but there’s something up with you. If you wanted to talk about it, you know I’m here, right?”

You were just so nice, it was hard for Diana to really comprehend it. She only wished that you were this nice to her, and not to everyone else, as cruel as that seemed. In what was at first meant to be a reassuring motion, she put her hands on your arms and rubbed up and down, and then up, past the thin off-the shoulder sleeves, to your shoulders. Once she had started, she found it hard to stop.

“You’re here, and that’s part of the problem,” She admitted. You tilted your head in confusion, exposing more of that beautiful neck that so tempted her. The way that she was looking at you - with eyes ablaze - it was a wonder you weren’t running off. “I have to ask you a question, and it may sound a little strange.”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Do you have feelings of any sort for Bruce?”

“Oh, gross, no,” You said, shaking your head. Her hands were still on your shoulders, keeping you grounded. “He’s like a brother, especially since we grew up in a lot of the same places. Why do you ask?”

“You two seem very close... very close.” Her hands went up your neck, caressing the soft and exposed skin until she reached your jaw. Your breath hitched in your throat, she could feel it. But you didn’t become meek or shy. Instead, you surprised her.

“Hmm... are you jealous, Diana?” You asked. You didn’t attempt to push her off, or get her to move. In fact, the reason why you had been going towards the bathroom in the first place was easily forgotten. Diana was caught of guard by your direct question, and responded to it with a nod rather than verbalizing. A smile went across your lips - closed lipped, tantalizing. “Then my plan has been working.”

You were the one that initiated the first kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck, bringing her in. She was in her full gear in case something had come up, and her metal breastplate rubbed roughly against the soft fabric of your dress. It was a good feeling though. It was a bit cold - and it permeated through the dress until you could feel it on your nipples, making them grow hard. In contrast, Diana was now feeling the soft, the flowing feeling against her elbows as her arms bent when she came closer. Lips smashed against lips, and that jealousy melted away.

You were the first one to pull away, take a step back and looked over that outfit of hers. The infamous Wonder Woman outfit. Turned into cheap costumes the  world round. “How do you take that thing off?” You asked. Surprising her again.

“Are you asking me to take it off, or are you curious?” Diana asked, pushing her hair out of the way, behind her neck, so that she could get back at yours with kisses.

“Both,” You said, leaning your head back so that she had more skin to get at. Diana grinned into these kisses, and showed you exactly how the form fitting top came off.

Diana felt very comfortable in her skin, and was fine with showing it off - to you. There were plenty of perverts out there who wanted to see this view, but it was only for you. Her chest was heaving with excitement, the pink that had been on her cheeks blushed her tan body. The skirt had come off as well, it being a one piece, and now she was standing there in only her underwear. For you.

You brought her back in for another kiss, this time with no hard breast plate in the middle. Diana’s hands deftly made their way to the back of your dress, and found the zipper. You moaned in encouragement, and gently - so as not to ruin the dress - she pulled it down until it reached your lower back. You shrugged your way out of it, pulling your arms out of the sleeves and let it fall onto the bathroom floor. At least Alfred kept this place spic and span himself. These floors had only been mopped that very morning.

Diana kept the kisses raining down upon you, your neck, your shoulders, your breasts once they were exposed. It was just the two of you in your underwear now, pressed against one another but it never felt close enough. Lifting you with ease, Diana swept you off of your feet and put you up onto the sink. You leaned back against the mirror, surprised at how quick all of this was going on. Both of you were. But neither of you were putting a stop to it. This was what she had been thinking about doing. Taking you from Bruce’s side and showing you how she really felt. This, this was a dream come true.

She kissed her way up one of your thighs, right along the inner skin, got to your underwear and started to pull it off slowly, leading it with kisses among the other thigh, to the calf, the to your pretty feet, bound in heels. Those, she would leave on. Just like she would her own thigh-high boots. “You’re very beautiful, y/n,” Diana said, getting a real good look at you.

“So are you, Princess,” You said with a smile, watching with eyes full of adoration. She existed for your compliments, and made her way hungrily between your legs. She was soft, just like those plump lips of hers, and she was gentle. She was also quite slow, which made you want her all the more. Her tongue was wet and warm and seemed to know exactly where to go to bring out the little whimpers in you. Your hands went to your own breasts, squeezing them. You pulled at your own nipples, making a display of it as Diana watched. Her dark eyes stayed focus up on you as her mouth worked.

As you began to reach your climax, miscellaneous things in the bathroom started to rumble. The garbage can for one, began to shake. The paper towel roll became entirely undone. The soap started to squirt out on its own. The lights flickered on and off as that force-field of yours affected the electricity around you. When you did finally reach it, your legs tightened around Diana, trapping her there as you thrust your hips up and down against her face, mewling with satisfaction.

The afterglow must have been amazing, for you grew a lot more loose and limber afterwards. Once you let Diana out of your grip, she joined you, hopping up onto the counter and put her arms around you, bringing you in for more kisses. These ones were more so lazy, just little pecks, as you started to recover from that rush of emotions. “What about you?” You asked, looking her over with a grin on her face.

“In time,” Diana smirked. “We have all of that in the world.”

Aperture Sides Facility, Chapter 9: The Part Where He Kills You

Masterpost

Chapter Summary: It's the part where he kills you.

Chapter Warnings: Attempted Murder (obviously), Not-Really-Unsympathetic Sides

“Well,” Janus says, “This is the part where he kills us.”

“Hello!” Remus says cheerfully, peering down at you from another video screen. “This is the part where I kill you!”

Looking at the spiked plates surrounding you, you realize this is, in fact, the part where he kills you.

(this is that part)

“Y’know, I thought about a lot of ways I could do this,” Remus says. “I could make toxic sludge rain into the room and see how long it took to kill you if you weren’t actually submerged in it. I could flood the room with neurotoxin and watch you choke and twitch as you die. I even thought about grabbing you and tearing you limb from limb! I wonder which would pop off first- maybe your arms? I dunno, what do you think?”

You don’t answer, instead looking around yourself as subtly as you can, looking for a way out. The platform you’re standing on is small, barely five feet from end to end, and below you is a deep pit that extends into nothingness. You could chance a jump, but with no way of knowing what’s at the bottom that’s just as likely to kill you as save you.

Above you, Remus is still talking. “But in the end I figured, why mess with a classic, right? I mean, the crushing power of metal, mixed with the stabbiness of spikes? Sheer poetry!”

Something catches your eye- a speck of white, a flash of movement. Bits of conversion gel are dripping in the distance and collecting on an outcropping. You shoot your blue portal there, and the white liquid begins to drip through the portal.

Great, now the testing chamber you just left is covered in portal surfaces. Not helping you much.

“Anyways, if you’ve got anything to say before I make you into hamburger meat, now’s the time, Tommy-boy!” Remus says.

“Hole in the wall, Eleven o’clock,” Janus mutters, and you feel yourself break into a smile as you see it.

“I do have something to say, actually,” you say loudly.

You shoot the orange portal through the hole, onto the portal surface beyond, and step aside to keep from being coated as a big glob of moon rock liquid flies towards you and then splatters onto your platform.

You look Remus’ image straight in the eye. “Thanks for teaching me about Conversion Gel.”

Then you shoot the blue portal onto the newly white-coated ground and jump in, popping out from the orange portal and landing on a metal catwalk on the other side of the hole, just as the spike plates obliterate where you just were standing.

“Oho!” Remus calls as you turn and begin to run down the catwalk. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for! I’ll just have to get creative, then.”

The catwalk jerks below you, and Janus cries, “Jump!” as it begins to give way.

You launch yourself forwards just as the catwalk falls out from under you, and land hard on your side on another.

“Think fast,” Remus sing-songs, and you frantically roll out of the way as a massive spike-plate slams where you just were, crushing the catwalk beneath it.

You scramble to your feet and use a pair of portals to cross the new gaping hole in front of you.

“Nice one!” Remus says. “But let’s see how fast you really are.”

You let out a rare curse as the walls on either side of you groan and begin to move closer together.

You fall into a sprint, lungs tightening and tired legs screaming at the new exertion. The opposite wall grows closer slowly, too slowly. You’re not going to make it.

Spinning wildly, you look desperately around yourself for some sort of way out. The walkway groans as the walls begin pushing on it, and you can feel it start to warp under your feet.

There! A small square of Portal surface, high above you. You shoot one Portal onto it, then turn and shoot the other onto one of the encroaching walls, now uncomfortably close. You jump through and come out the other, higher portal, landing on top of one of the “walls” which from this perspective looks more like a box. With a jerking motion the box shifts direction, now moving upwards.

“Down,” Janus says urgently, and you look down to see an opening in the floor near you. You jump down just as the huge box you’re on slams into the ceiling, making the whole thing rattle and shake.

The shaking probably saves your life, because when you land in the room below you, the several turrets you are faced with seem momentarily distracted by the jarring motion. You quickly shoot one portal on the wall behind the turrets and another below your feet, popping out behind the turrets’ ranks and quickly knocking them over.

“Left,” Janus says, and you run through a door and onto another catwalk, until you go through another door and finally put your feet on solid ground.

Some amount of time later, Janus finally says, “We should be safe here,” and you immediately flop down onto the ground, taking gasping breaths. You really need to stop getting into these situations with people trying to kill you; you don’t know how much more running and jumping your body can take.

“You could have at least set me down nicely,” Janus says, voice strangely muffled, and you look over and realize that you put down the portal gun so that he’s pressed against the floor. Fighting back the urge to laugh, you reach over and roll the gun so that Janus is facing up and towards you.

“Honestly, you’re that wiped from a few minutes of running? You living creatures are so fragile, it’s a wonder you’ve survived this long.”

“Says the person who spent the entire time being carried,” you groan, but it’s without heat. You wave an arm in Janus’ general direction. “Give me a sec, I’ll be up in no time.”

“Oh of course you will,” Janus says, sugar-sweet, because he’s a jerk like that.

You lie on the ground for a few minutes, feeling your heart rate slow as your adrenaline high comes down. With it comes the crash, a wave of fatigue that washes over you. When you start struggling to keep your eyes open, you figure it’s probably a sign you need to get up now.

“Alright,” you grunt, painfully pulling yourself to your feet, “Let’s go.”

“Absolutely not,” Janus says.

Your stomach churns with sudden anger and worry. “You’re going back on our deal?”

“No,” Janus says, as cool and collected as ever. “But our deal involves helping you stay alive, and you currently are not up to even basic kinds of physical activity or intense thinking, much less those associated with portals.”

“What?” you say, blinking at him. “I’m good, I’m… I’m fine. I can do it.”

“How long have you been up and moving by now? Days? You’re literally nodding off as we speak.”

You forcibly open your eyes, blinking again. “No I’m not.”

“Honestly, and they call me a liar.”

Janus’ voice grows firm. “I will not do a single thing to help you until you have gotten some sleep. We have enough time to spare right now, and I will wake you if anything about the situation changes.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “How do I know you’re not trying to distract me, so I won’t be in time to help my friends?”

Janus huffs. “Oh, come now, even you must realize you’ll be no good to your friends if you get yourself killed. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but unlike the rest of us, you are not a machine.”

His voice softens. “Take some time to rest, Thomas.”

“I- okay,” you say finally. “Don’t kill me in my sleep, alright?”

“I’ll try to restrain myself,” Janus says, sounding vaguely amused.

You lay down and close your eyes, shifting as you try to make yourself comfortable on the hard floor. Your brain won’t slow down, too many hours of fighting for your life making it difficult to relax.

You crack one eye open again. “Janus?”

The light flickers back on. “I do need my own rest too, you know. Potato battery, remember? I’m absolutely made of power right now.”

“Can I ask you a question, real quick?”

“Absolutely not,” Janus deadpans. “Remove yourself from my presence at once.”

“Cool.” You flip onto your stomach, propping your chin on your hands as you peer down at the potato.

“Why cake?”

There’s a pause as Janus registers the question. Then he says, a shrug in his voice, “You needed a reward to motivate you. Why not cake?”

You mull that over. Why not cake, indeed. “Was there ever actually going to be a cake?”

“Put me back in charge, and you’ll find out,” Janus says dryly. “Now will you please go to sleep?”

Smiling to yourself, you roll over and pillow your head on one arm, and before you know it you’re drifting off.

You wake to a tremor that shakes the floor you’re sprawled across and makes the walls audibly rattle. Your first, sleepy thought is that there’s somehow been an earthquake in Florida. Then you remember where you are and what situation you’re in, and bolt upright.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Janus says. “That rumble probably means the Core is getting unstable. We need to get going now.”

“Alright,” you say, rubbing the last bit of sleep from your eyes and painfully getting to your feet. Your muscles are stiff from sleeping on them after so much exercise; hopefully they’ll loosen up as you get moving.

You look down at the potato. “You said you knew where the others were. So let’s go find them.”

“That may not be the best course of action to take,” Janus says carefully. “This facility is actively deteriorating, and the time we would spend finding them may be time we don’t have.”

“We’re finding them first,” you say firmly. “We’ll stand a better chance at stopping Remus and saving this place as a group, and there’s no way I’m leaving them lost, scared or in danger, not when I can help.”

Janus heaves a dramatic sigh. “If you insist. I took Patton down to the space below the Control Chamber. It’s perfectly safe, mostly a storage space really, but I doubt he’s moved far. Roman is harder to judge, but given that he fell through the floor I’d guess he’s either in the same place, or on one of the floor below.”

“Alright,” you say, thinking that over. “I guess let’s start with where you know Patton is, and then we can look for Roman if he isn’t there as well.”

“A sound enough plan, I suppose,” Janus says. “You’ll want to go down this hallway and then climb up the service ladder; if it’s broken, you’ll have to get creative.”

And just like that, you’re off. At first, the only communication is Janus’ instructions, and the occasional debate at how to traverse a particularly difficult space. It’s when you’re nearing your destination that he finally picks the conversation back up.

“You seem to care about the other Cores a great deal, considering the fact that you’ve known them for a few days at most,” Janus says, sounding almost curious.

Memories flash through your head: Test chambers that should have been sterile and empty, instead filled with encouragement, laughter, good-natured bickering. Sitting in a circle in a rusty old hideaway, singing barely-remembered songs and talking wistfully about the sky. Patton giving you that bright, crinkle-eyed smile as he declares, “Well it’s settled then! We’re a family.”

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, I care about them. I’m going to get out of here, and I’m going to make sure they’re alright. Because that’s what they’d do for me.”

Janus scoffs. “Sentimental idiots, the lot of you.”

“Oh?” you say, trying and failing to keep the heat out of your voice, “And what would you have me do? Just abandon them?

“They can take care of themselves,” Janus says. “As should you. Through that grate, to your left.”

“So that’s it?” you say, shooting a portal through the grate and using it to get to the other side, “every man for himself?”

“With the exception of mutually beneficial arrangements such as ours,” Janus replies smoothly.

You shake your head. “Sounds like a miserable way to live.”

“For a human, maybe. AIs lack such base needs as so-called ‘friendship.’” If Janus had a nose, you’re pretty sure he’d be sticking it up right now.

“Are you really saying that you’ve never cared for anyone?” you say. “That you’ve never had someone you would risk everything for, just because you couldn’t bear to see them hurt or unhappy?”

There’s a pause. Then Janus says, voice flat, “No. Never.”

You’ve heard Janus say a lot of blatantly false things- heck, you’ve heard him pretend he didn’t just try to kill you after literally dumping you into a furnace- but you don’t think you’ve ever been as sure as you are now that Janus is lying.

“Thomas!” someone shouts. “Thomas, over here!”

Heart leaping in your chest, you turn to see Roman, lying in a pile of rubble in the corner of the room you just entered. You rush forward and dig him out with your hands, grinning ear to ear.

“Boy, am I glad to see you!” Roman says. “I guess the prince was the one in need of rescuing this time, huh?”

“We can take turns,” you say, picking your portal gun back up and using it to lift him.

“Uh, Thomas? Why do you have a potato on your portal gun?” Roman says.

“Oh,” you say, “that’s Janus.”

“That’s-” Roman chokes, looking at the potato more intently, before said potato yells “boo!” and he flinches backwards with a high-pitched shriek.

“Sorry, but I just couldn’t resist,” Janus says smoothly. “Yes, I am currently in potato form, and am working with Thomas as well. Any questions?” The last sentence has a slight sarcastic twinge to it.

“So many,” Roman says candidly, “But it can wait. Are you going to find Padre?”

“That’s the plan,” you say.

Roman nods. “Set me down here; you’ll be able to carry him if you find him, that way.

“Are you sure?” you ask, worried.

“It is a prince’s job to sacrifice for the common folk!” he says with a dramatic flourish.

“Alright,” you say with a smile, setting him down gently in a secure spot. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“I know you will,” Roman says.

The area below the Control Chamber is less of a floor and more of a crawlspace, interspersed with coiled grabby hands, retracted pistons, and who knows what else, and you very quickly find yourself grateful you didn’t bring Roman. Still, Janus guides you through it, and before long you see the familiar light blue eyelight of your friend.

“Thomas!” Patton squeals when he sees you. “Oh, Thomas, I’m so glad you found me! Wait, why do you have a potato on your portal gun?”

“Oh, that’s just Janus,” you say casually. “Remus uploaded him into a potato battery.”

“Oh, dear,” Patton says, “That sounds like a tatorrible situation to be in!”

You snort at the pun, then say, “I’m sorry it took me so long to find you. I got caught up in something of a mess.”

“That’s alright, kiddo,” Patton says. “I’m sure whatever you were doing, it was good and necessary.”

“I don’t know, Patton,” you say. “It feels like, whenever I’ve actually managed to do something here, it’s always ended up backfiring on me.”

“I still think you’re doing the best you can in a bad situation,” Patton says. I mean, waking up miles underground, with no memory, no food or water, a crazed machine trying to kill you…”

“Oh please do continue, it’s not like I can hear you or anything,” Janus says.

“You haven’t had the time to sit down and make an informed choice,” Patton continues, ignoring him. “You’re doing your best with what you have. And honestly, kiddo, the fact that we’re all still alive tells me that you’ve been doing a pretty good job. I mean, you found me, didn’t you? You didn’t have to go to all the trouble to do that- but you did, because you care. If you ask me, that means a lot.”

You find yourself tearing up. “I’m so glad you’re here with me, Patton.”

Patton smiles up at you. “Me too, kiddo. Me too.”

When you head back to pick up Roman, you find one more Core than you were expecting.

“Hey,” Virgil says. “Thought I might find you here. I’m glad you made it through alright.”

“You and me both,” you say ruefully. “What have you been up to since I talked with you last?”

Virgil shrugs. “Looked around a bit. Ended up going to where I knew Logan was. He had me take him to a certain room, something about neurotoxin generators, and then sent me back out to find you. Which, I did, so yay me I guess?” He does an awkward thumbs up, which makes you laugh.

“Alright, then,” you say, hefting Patton while Virgil grabs hold of Roman, “take me to where Logan is.”

The room Virgil leads you into is huge, with a tall ceiling and a catwalk extending over a massive pit. Taking up its center is a tall, thin structure that almost reminds you of a spider, with a long metal body and pipes coming out from it like legs. It’s intimidating, and you instinctively take a step back at the sight.

“Ah, Thomas, excellent timing,” Logan says, “Help me destroy this, would you?”

Worlds Unseen verse Drabble: Stand By You (Even in Dreams)

(here I am, writing something I have no idea what to do with. Enjoy the angst? This ends really abruptly but I didn’t know how to wrap it up. gfhgfd it was interesting to write at least. Also, potential spoilers for Horizon Zero Dawn).

...

     He showed up about two days in. A silent companion walking steadily at her side even though that —he— was impossible. She was determined to ignore him at first. She didn’t know if he was born of her increasing hunger and thirst, her loneliness, or if the air was turning toxic the more damage the swarm did to the world, but he wasn’t real. He couldn’t be. So she ignored him.

     Still, he walked beside her. Not speaking, not ranting or babbling or screaming, just-. Walking. Watching. He watched the world around them with sad eyes, very emotive eyes. Sometimes he almost seem to stumble over the rubble of the road. If it hadn’t been for the impossibility of it, of him, she might have believed he was real. Her imagination was too strong apparently.

     But he was impossible. Dressed like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie, furs and leathers mixed with machine piping and wires, his painted face exposed to the ruined world without dying even though she knew that people needed vacuum-sealed suits now just to survive. He was impossible.

     She would never admit that it felt good not to be alone. Even if her company was just a figment of her imagination.

     She made it through three days of silence before she broke, “You ever gonna talk, or are you a silent hallucination?”

     Blue-grey eyes, more like storm clouds than skies, shifted away from the landscape to look at her, “You didn’t seem in the mood for conversation,” he spoke, and she noted what almost sounded like a Japanese accent —odd choice brain, why not a southern accent like Travis or something?—, “so I left you alone.”

     She sighed, “Well, not much else to do out here but indulge my insanity.”

     “You think you’re dreaming me up.”

     “Aren’t I?”

     The hallucination shrugged, “I don’t know. I think that I’m dreaming you up, personally, and you believe you’ve dreamed me up. Maybe we’re both dreaming up each other. Or maybe we’re both just dreams. Does it matter?”

     She mulled over that for probably longer than it deserved, “I guess not.”

...

...

...

     “Where are we going?”

     She looked up tiredly at the words, jolted out of the daze that had been settling into her bones by the soft voice of the impossibility following her around, “I’m trying to get home. You can leave whenever you want.”

     A loose shrug, as if her words were merely a polite suggestion and not a jab at her insanity, “Are you sure you want to see it this way? It’s not going to be pretty.”

     They both paused to look around at the ruined landscape. Skyscrapers smoking in the distance, roads cracked and torn apart, the entire world either burned or eaten by unstoppable metal monsters, the sky turned unnatural colors as the atmosphere was ruined ever further. No, she mentally agreed. She probably did not want to see her home this way. But still … “I have nowhere else to go. I’m a dead woman anyway. I want to die at home.”

     He shrugged again, as if to say without words that it was her choice, and they kept walking.

     She wondered distantly when his footsteps had started to make sound, just like real ones did.

...

...

...

     “You got a name? It’s getting boring just calling you the Hallucination in my head.”

     An amused glance her way, “I thought you weren’t supposed to indulge hallucinations because it would only make them worse.”

     She scoffed, the sound laced with static through the speakers of her suit, “Worst case is that I die before I get home, talking to thin air. Best case is that I die at the ranch, still talking to thin air. Might as well risk it. So, do you have a name?”

     He tilted his head and considered her. There was something eerie in his gaze, something too keen and too alive. Something too old. It fit the strange military uniform he was wearing today, “Bast,” he finally said, “Bast Lucis Caelum.”

     “Pretentious,” she huffed, and his lips twitched like he agreed and found her opinion amusing. It was stupid to introduce herself to a hallucination of her own mind, because surely he knew everything about her already. But even so, boredom and manners made her tap her chest plate and say, “Elisabet. Elisabet Sobeck.” He stopped and stared at her with wide, startled eyes, the most open emotion she had yet seen from him. His mouth opened, then shut, then he shook his head and muttered something that sounded distinctly like “should have known” and she was intrigued despite herself, “You didn’t know who I was. Shouldn’t you know everything about me?”

     He scoffed, a dry, tired noise, “No. I didn’t. I knew your voice was familiar, but I can’t- I can’t see you under that suit. I wasn’t sure. And I don’t know much about you. Not really.” A pause, a thoughtful look at the ruined horizon and the swirling dust beneath their feet, “Tell me?”

     Elisabet didn’t feel much like talking about herself to, essentially, herself, but she was used to answering vague, childish questions after so long working with Gaia, and somehow she found herself talking as she hiked through the empty landscape. About herself, about her past, about her dreams. Bast listened without judgement, just occasionally made a questioning noise that let her know he was listening.

     It was a relief to not feel alone in this place. Even if she knew logically she was more alone than she had ever been before in her life.

...

...

...

     “If you had a daughter,” Elisabet jerked awake from her daze at the sound, blinked and tried to shake off the effects of dehydration —the suit had run out of water stims to inject into her bloodstream yesterday and she was already feeling the effects—, “what would you say to her?”

     “I don’t have any children,” she retorted and tried not to sound bitter about it, “for the best, really, considering … this.” She waved a hand at the fallen buildings and smoking spires. Ruins without bodies, everything already picked clean of organic material by the swarm as it had passed by. That was probably the only reason she was still alive. This area had already been deemed empty by the swarm and it had moved on before she had … left.

     “Humor me.”

     She looked at her imaginary companion. He was dressed in post-apocalypse leathers and cables again, his blond hair half shaved, the other half left to flop to the side like some kind of sad not-mohawk. His weapons hadn’t changed. They were just as anime as ever. A katana at one hip, a bow on his back and a quiver of arrows on his other hip, knives peaking out from seemingly every pocket. He was watching her with something very focused and serious in his gaze. Like he could see through her suit and into her eyes. She licked dry lips beneath her visor, “It doesn’t matter. I don’t have anyone.”

     He stopped walking, she stopped instinctively so as to not leave him behind. He reached out as if to grab her shoulder, paused before he could touch her and lowered his hand. Grey eyes looked dark with intent, with desperation, “If you had a daughter,” he started to repeat.

     “Well I don’t!” She snapped, temper breaking free of its leash, “I’m childless! I have no daughter, I have no future! I’m talking to a hallucination! You’re a figment of my mind, why won’t you just change the subject?”

     “Because this is important!” He snarled back with more ferocity than she expected. He stormed forward until they were almost touching, his nose inches from her faceplate, “This is important, Elisabet. I don’t know what’s going on, if I’m dead or dreaming or what, but I have a chance to ask this and I’m taking it!”

     A fractured pause between them, tense and disbelieving on both sides. Then Bast ran a hand through his hair and stepped back, “Now please. If you had a daughter, what would you tell her?”

     A pointless question. A pointless question that was painful to even think about, especially here. Especially now. She turned away and resumed walking, listened to the crunch of footsteps that couldn’t really be there as they followed her and thought about changing the subject.

     And yet…

     “If I had a daughter … I would tell her that I loved her. So much. I would tell her … to be brave. And curious. And kind. That- that the world has enough people out there hurting it, and that it takes a special kind of person to heal it instead. If only a little bit. I would tell her that I support her, no matter what she decided to do with her life, and that wherever she went … whatever she did, I would believe in her. Anything she wanted to be, or achieve, she could do it. I know she could.” Elisabet looked up at the sky, taking in the starscape just beginning to be visible, “I would tell her to reach for the stars, because if she wanted to, she could touch them. And no matter what happened next … I would be … so proud. I would love her, and I would… I …”

     “I would tell her that I would always be proud of my baby girl.”

     Bast let her fall silent after that. Politely looked away as her shoulders shook and her breath hitched inside the suit. Then, after minutes upon minutes of aching silence, he whispered, “I’ll remember that.”

     And Elisabet wondered why it felt like such a relief to hear those words. Even though logically she knew that she had no child, and even if she had, they would never hear what Elisabet had to say.

...

...

...

     It was getting hard to see straight. Hard to think. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since the suit ran out of nutrient stims. Just that it had, and she had kept walking. She had avoided the swarm, somehow, and now … now she was so tired. So very tired.

     “Keep walking,” Bast said, and she wondered when she had stopped caring that he was a figment of her mind and instead clung to the comfort of his presence. To the steadiness of his voice even in a world eaten alive. “That’s it, isn’t it? Up ahead.”

     She looked up. Cried when she saw the weathered letters of the Sobeck Ranch looking back, “Yeah. That’s it. That’s home.” She had made it. She had made it home. Crazy and dying and alone at the end of the world but … she was home. She staggered past the wrecked gate, tried not to look at the devastation. The swarm had been through here, she could tell. All the trees were gone, all the grass ripped out of the ground by the roots. The walls caved in to get to the ivy that had been growing on them. Her home was in as much ruins as the rest of the world.

     But it was still here.

     She sank shakily onto the old stone bench that faced the house and sighed.

     This would be a good place to die.

     Bast settled next to her, crouching on his haunches near the bench rather than risk touching her —he never touched her, and she wasn’t sure if that was out of respect for her boundaries or because they both knew it would break the illusion that he was ever there—. He was quiet. He had been getting a lot quieter, the longer the journey went on. The more Elisabet faded. He only spoke now to wake her up, to tell her to keep moving. But she was home now, so there was no more reason to stay awake, or to walk. This was it. This was where she was going to stay until the end.

     She wondered, a little dazedly, if it would be scary for Bast. If he would fade with her consciousness, acting alive until the end, or if her brain would just get too tired to keep him around and he would wink into nothing between one heartbeat and the next. That thought scared her more than it should.

     “Hey, Bast?”

     “Yeah?”

     She licked dry lips and shifted to be marginally more comfortable on the bench. Tilted her head back to the sky and idly rolled her little globe charm in her fingers as she whispered, “If I had a daughter … what would her name be? What … would she be like?”

     The silence that followed was deep and long. So long she closed her eyes with a shaking sigh, sure that her brain had finally gotten bored with making him and left her well and truly alone. Then.

     “Aloy. Her name would be Aloy. She would … look just like you. Red hair, bright green eyes that try to pick apart everything in the world around her. She would be … curious. Brave. Unstoppable. The smartest person in the room wherever she went but not … arrogant about it. Always looking for knowledge, always looking to learn. She would be … afraid of a lot of things, but she would never let it stop her. She would be very kind. Always willing to help other people in need, even when it’s risky, or when she would rather do something else. She would … look at a boy about her age that … no one wanted anything to do with because he was weird and she would hold out a hand in friendship. She would learn a foreign language just so she could talk to her new friend better, and ask questions no else thinks to ask. She would do … so many amazing things.”

     Elisabet tried to picture it. Indulged in the fantasy of it, just for a little while, “What things?”

     “Well,” Bast mused slowly, a note of gentle, nostalgic fondness in his voice, “there was this one time when we were eleven, and Aloy decided she wanted to surprise Rost, our … caretaker, so…”

     Elisabet listened. Eyes closed, breath slowing, basking in stories of the impossible. Of children and curiosity, of teenagers and bravery. Of a daughter who was unstoppable, and curious, and kind enough to fix the world, just a little bit. She listened to Bast’s voice rise and fall in stories of hope and heartbreak and danger and kindness. Her hand slowly relaxed around her little globe charm. It would be alright to doze off just for a little while, right? To dream of these fanciful stories her own mind was telling her.

     Just for a little while. Maybe … maybe she would get to see them? In her dreams if nothing else.

     Just for a little bit.

     Thank you, she tried to tell Bast past lips too tired to move. Thank you for staying with me, even if you aren’t really here.

     Thank you for not letting me die alone.

...

...

...

     Bast finished his story, one of many he had been telling, through the day and night and into the dawn again. He looked up from the pebbles he had been fiddling with, only half feeling them, as if he was touching them in a dream.

     He couldn’t hear Elisabet breathing anymore.

     He closed his eyes. Opened them and looked around the ruined world one more time. He could feel it, the tug in his soul that had been trying to make him wake up for a while now. He could have left days ago, followed the tug and gone back to the world of the living. But even if this was all just a dream —which it might be, or it might not, could he really judge after all the things he’d seen?—, he hadn’t wanted to leave yet. He hadn’t wanted to disappear and leave her alone.

     It was the least he could do, for Aloy’s mother.

     He stood up, letting the tugging sensation unravel through his soul as he stared at the unmoving figure slumped over on the stone bench, “I’ll come find you,” he whispered, “when I wake up. When this is all over. I’ll take Aloy here to meet you. Just wait for me until then, okay?”

     There was no answer. He didn’t expect any.

     The tugging feeling grew stronger and yanked him away, and Bast had just enough time to whisper goodbye before he opened his eyes in the real world, aching all over and with a relieved Aloy crying at his head.

     “-you thinking? You almost died!”

     “Sor’y, Aloy.”

     “I’ll show you sorry, all those lectures on being reckless and there you go and do something stupid like that-!”

     “Your Mom says hi.”

     “I’m going to- what?”

     Bast shook his head with a sigh. She didn’t know yet. She still had hope.

     He would tell her later. When he took her to meet Elisabet, “Neverm’nd. Tell you later.” He reached up and tugged one of her braids gently, “Missed you.”

     He squinted past the tears dripping onto his face as she pulled him into her lap, “I missed you too you big idiot. Don’t scare me like that again.”

     “Okay.”

The Siren & The Healer (2)

Natasha Romanoff arc

Chapter 2: The Stranger

Platonic Natasha x fem!Reader, Loki x fem!Reader (soulmates?)

Theme: With cracks between the most powerful superheroes of the earth, Natasha Romanoff does not find rest when she is assigned on a mission to find the missing pieces of a puzzling power that once nearly got into the hands- rather, tentacles- of Hydra. In order to unearth the pieces, she must dig through her own past and make a decision that might decide the fate of the earth in the coming wars.

Series: Will contain violence, death, destruction, softness, fluff, smut, friendship, and whatnot

Chapter warnings: it does not have floof. or smut. or Loki.

A/N: This was written a few years ago with an OC in mind so reader has a name but it is a reader insert.

Word Count: This weird pain in my heels has not gone away and it has been six freaking months! And I keep missing making appointments! With either of the doctors! I am so mad at myself. And I am trying to take vitamins for the same and I keep missing them too! Which reminds me I should put alarms. Which reminds me I should put alarms for this. ...and I keep missing putting up those too.

MASTERLIST in bio, love

Time: 2200 hrs

Location: Vienna

The little Iron Man funko pop had been entertaining you for the last two hours when the remaining contents of Harry’s table could not. By now you were practically half lying on his table, the chair rolling to and fro while you hummed the tune to Tender’s Nadir, bobbing your head like your little friend to the rhythm. Harry’s colleague- another assistant professor in the department- had come by to collect his stuff from his desk while you waited. “Why don’t you leave and he’ll come when he can,” he had mentioned, drawing a stare of judgment from you. Leave him? What am I? A monster? I can’ just ‘leave’ him. He’s Harry, man! Shut your trap hole!

"I'm so sorry Koshu. I had to collect some assignments from the students." Harry started with loud gasps of breath before he’s even entered the room. You were kinda bummed he knew you were there. You really wanted to surprise him. Though you had to say, you loved seeing him all flustered. It was quite a rare sight for you. You always so calm and composed friend never broke a sweat no matter how hard things were. Well, the things that were hard for you were a smooth sail for Harry. Even though you’d both come here to study and research in artificial intelligence, you had just dropped out of the course after the first semester and taken to teaching minor courses and skills while learning some yourself. He, on the other hand, had been acing it ever since he got here, winning scholarships and accolades. Not to mention the hearts of all ladies and interested men. And what did Harry do about it? Be as innocently unaware about it all as your crush on him. Stupid son of a sexy goofball!

"Look at you, all red and sweaty! I bet Sammy would love to have you now." you giggled.

Harry stood beside you for a second, blank, until he realised what you meant and flushed a fresh batch of red. Yeah, exes tend to have then effect sometimes. A part of you was glad to have that woman out of the picture- that part being the whole of you. No one wants a toxic girlfriend who wants you because you’re hot and then thinks she rather not because ‘I don’t know, Harry, you’re not as outgoing as I thought my boyfriend would be.’ She should have been glad you were on another continent at that time.

"Yeah. Whatever. Hey, I have to grade these assignments so why don't you head home. I'll finish these and then come back,” Harry admitted before wiping the sweat off his forehead. Ugh! Stop it you tease! Your inner voice was really having a day.

"What? Take them home! I'll cook us some pasta or Indian if you are craving some. Get comfy and then grade these bitches."

Harry raised his brows at you.

“That was for the papers. Not for you students....who do comprise of certain stuck ups if you ask me.”

He blinked before shrugging and nodding in agreement. Hesitating for a moment, he remained quiet, the corner of his lips twitching where it met his beard.

"Yeah, I'm comfy here. You go ahead."

It was your turn to raise arch your brow at him.

"Dude! Stop it!” you lectured, raising her hands in the air. “It’s okay for you to do the laundry but it’s not okay if I cook food for the both of us? And it’s not like I’m a bad cook that you avoid eating my hard work. This is called sharing responsibilities, something, I clearly remember, you lectured me on when we first came here. And I like cooking, it’s like a stress-buster. And I make awesome Indian food and a mean Chicken Alfredo."

“...”

“I do...don’t I?”

"Yeah, that you do."

"Thank God. So come home, you twat. Pack those things and let's move. I'm hungry. Let's go before I eat your brains."

Harry smiled sheepishly at his failed attempt for a second and then beamed with happiness from within.

"Alright. Go heat up the car. I'll bring all the material with me.”

You got up with a gush of new energy flowing inside you. Taking the keys from him, you walked for the door.

“Oh! And don't leave without me okay?" He called out from behind you, making you stop, turn and give him a narrow-eyed look. Harry laughed and dodged the duster you threw at him. "Jerk," you hissed through your teeth as you started walking towards the parking lot.

It was only seven in the evening but the sky had already bid goodnight. There were barely any students on the campus. You could hear EDM being played at a distance at some frat house or in someone's dorm. Kids, you thought to yourself, as if mocking them. And then again, you thought to yourself, kids- but now with wistful faraway happiness.

There were only four cars in the parking lot. An old Camry that belonged to a history professor who took night classes. Another one was a Bentley that belonged to a highly infamous professor of Personality Development. The man taught more about himself than about personalities. You never liked that guy.

This guy creeps me out from a mile away, your insides would always remind you.

The last one was an unknown SUV that stood a few meters away from Harry's car. It did not belong to any student or staff you knew.

You took a good look at it as you crossed it and moved to Harry's second hand, Honda. If there was anything Harry and you loved in common more than food, and a bit less than animals, it was this sweet lady. One could find notes, spare T-shirts, cologne, deodorants and much more in there. It could easily be called your second home.

Both of you had spent nights sleeping through all the tipsy- after wild parties during the first year- in this baby. This one had been with you when you’d got here and did not have a dark corner to cry in. Or when you and Harry needed to run away from the buzz of the city and escape into the mountains to rest under the stars and talk about all your deepest desires, darkest secrets and nethermost questions about life and purpose. Not to mention, you’d cleaned up this baby on Harry’s first date just so this guy would get some action- which clearly didn’t happen for this terribly shy guy.  This car had been a constant in it all and had even been knighted with a name.

“Hey Bunny! Did you miss mama? How was my girl today?” 

You were about to open Bunny’s door when your eyes went back to the SUV.

Matte black. Alloy wheels, clearly not of cheap quality. Weird number plate which was not from the state and a little metallic sword that hung from the rearview mirror inside- reflecting the lights from the parking lot right into your eyes.

Something did not feel right. You stood there for a few seconds looking in the parking lot for any sign of the owner.

“It is supposed to look intimidating.”

You jumped at the voice behind you.

A man came out of the shadows of the trees. He was wearing a grey suit and a pin bent in the shape of an eye with what seemed to be a ruby in the middle.

You closed Bunny’s door and locked the vehicle, carefully placing the car keys between your fingers so as to point them away from you and put the other hand around your bag. You took two steps back into the middle of the parking lot, standing visibly under the lights.

“I’m sorry, Sir, do I know you?”

The man stepped into the light. The wrinkles on his face made him look a bit over forty but his well-fitted suit around his body made him look younger and muscular. His grey eyes looked right into yours with a hint of a smile on his thin smooth lips.

“No, ma’am. But I have heard about you.”

You stepped further back into the most lit part of the lot.

“Can I help you, sir?”

You just now noticed the restraint in your voice- into a softer, smoother version of how you normally talked. This always happened when you were intimidated by the person standing in front of you.

“I have been looking for someone who could help me with this concept that is completely out of my league. But considering the things that are at stake, I was hoping you could help me.”

You looked in his direction, confused. More than that, you were frustrated, wondering where the campus guards were.

“I am talking about healing and meditation studies. A few kids who are visiting Europe on a foreign exchange program have shown some interest in getting certified in the course. And I heard you have some sort of experience with that thing.”

The man smiled, this time, his lips extended a bit more while his eyes still stayed grey. Your entire body feel a cold jitter all at once. His eyes. There was just something unsettling about them. Like they were looking right through your clothes, skin, flesh, and bones. 

“Oh! I’m sorry sir. I taught last semester and that was that. I no longer teach or practice it. But you can find teachers for the same more capable than me in the classes going on right now. In fact, the students can directly contact them. Their information is available on the university website.”

The man tilted his head a little as if he was questioning something you just stated.

“Really? You stopped teaching the course? But why? I met some of your students and they gave me really amazing reviews regarding your teaching methods.”

You felt drops of sweat trickle down your back. For a few seconds there, all you did was just blink and feel the fierceness of your heart trying to rise up a little. Finally, you gave a weak smile before answering. “It wasn’t suitable for me. I mean the timings and the hours I had to put in. It was sort of taking a toll on my health. So I don’t do it anymore. I don’t take classes. Neither do I freelance.”

The man was silent for a second while you felt her phone in her jacket. One wrong step and you were ready to press the button of wrath.

“So you’re telling me that healing and meditation took a toll on you.”

You let out one long tired sigh. Here we go. You’d heard that phrase before, more times than you could count.

“Yes, sir”, you muttered, your voice suddenly growing tired, “it does take a toll on you if you’re not careful.”

You wanted to take a look behind you to see if Harry was approaching but did not turn for the fear of the unknown now standing in front of you.

“Careful about what?”

“The things you work on, the ailments for example, who you work with, what energy you are going to work upon slash with,'' you stressed, though stressing as little as you could on the ‘energy’ bit.

“Oh! Like if someone was, say, in an accident, you wouldn’t treat them because that might take a toll on your health. So, you’d rather that person suffer than be treated by you.”

The statement took you by surprise. You had been thinking the man was a sceptical old pervert but here he was asking you questions a healer’s heckler noob does not play with so early.

“Excuse me?” you lost your voice a little. “Sir, it’s a lot more complica—”

The man looked away from you to take out a card from his jacket and hold it out for you to take.

“Why don’t you tell me all about it tomorrow at 8:15 am? Your ride’s here so let’s continue this tomorrow. I’m sure being a healer you have a good reason to not heal someone. Even a…” he paused, his dead eyes looking straight into yours, “loved one.”

And suddenly you were not standing in the parking lot anymore. The dead eyes stayed there with you as everything around you seemed to fade into the distance. Only the eyes, your cold body sweating and a familiar old voice shouting out for you from somewhere far away were present in the void.

Keosha.

You could almost recognize that faint noise accompanying it. A fade white noise was what it seemed to be initially. A part of your mind tried to filter out where exactly where it was coming from. 

Keosha.

It grew closer but now it was somewhat different. You thought you heard someone scream somewhere in the distance.

“Keosha!” Harry shook your arm.

You jumped back into reality, nearly a feet away from Harry’s grasp.

“Hey! Daydreamer!” He called out for you, taking one careful step towards you so as not to scare you away again. “You okay? Where did you go?”

You supported yourself on Bunny. Harry noticed the slow blinks, realising you had been living through some part of your wayward imagination that was not a pleasant one. So, he did what he always did during such times. Rubbing your back to soothe you before taking you in a light embrace.

Your heart was comforted by Harry’s presence, thanking him repeatedly for being there. Your mind was all over the place, looking around you for the cause of this sudden crack inside your mind. The old man was gone.

“Sorry I just got lost in…something. Should we go? We should go.”

Your body worked on its own, getting into the car, closing the door, putting on a radio station to drown out the echo of words left behind.

Single Mom!AU Part 1

Three weeks.

Three weeks since your last full night of sleep. At this point you had yourself convinced you were going to lose your mind. How did other single mothers do this? How did they not snap and run away? How did they handle motherhood? The bundle in your arms screamed relentlessly as you rocked her softly, singing to her hoping she would calm down soon.

Her dark brown eyes were screwed shut as her little hands waved about frantically, grasping at the air in a craze. She has been going at it for two hours. Her diaper was clean, she was fed, you cradled her, tried laying her down, tried playing with her...you’ve tried everything you could think of but nothing would calm her screams. You were at your wits end.

Being a new mom was tough enough, but being a new mom on your own was a whole other story. Never in your wildest dreams did you think the day would come when you had a child to care for and no one to help out. Her sperm donor had high tailed it when he found out you were pregnant after you two had unprotected sex for the first time in your three year relationship. Apparently that meant nothing to him.

Your parents basically disowned you having a child out of wedlock, something their old traditional values were so against. You had to return to work soon and you didn’t know what you were going to do. You couldn’t afford a nanny and you definitely couldn’t afford to not work. What little savings you had, all went towards your baby.

Your little Ji-ha.

She was so tiny. So innocent. So precious. She didn’t deserve a mother like you. A mother who had no idea what she was doing. A mother on her own. A mother who was silently suffering every day.

Hot tears began to pour down your cheeks, dropping silently onto her soft yellow blanket, patterned with ducks in blue bows. Her hands slowed down a moment as her innocent brown eyes opened, tears suddenly dry, as she looked at you in wonder. Her tiny fists unclenched and reached out for your hand that was settled across her chest from where you attempted to rub it in hopes it would calm her screaming. Her tiny hand wrapped around one of your fingers and her screams went silent.

That made your heart clench tighter and caused more fresh tears to pour from your eyes once again. The sight of your beautiful daughter, three weeks old, comforting you as you cried. It wasn’t long until you were both settled from the crying and both you and Jiah’s eyes drifted closed for the second time that night, sleeping together in the grey plush rocking chair in the corner of the nursery.

•>•>•>•>•>•

A shrill ring brought you back to consciousness around 8am, your silent curses to whoever was ringing this early while Ji-ah was still asleep. You gently laid her in her crib before scurrying out of the nursery towards your room on the opposite side of Ji-ah’s room. Not even bothering to glance at the caller ID you answered.

“Hello?” Your groggy voice sounded loud in the silent room.

“y/n?” Came the reply.

“Yes? Who is this?” Your phone etiquette missing for this conversation.

“Ah, sorry, it’s Taehyung. Kim Taehyung.”

Taehyung...? You hadn’t spoke to him in almost two and a half years. Not since you and Jongdae got together. Your then boyfriend made it very clear that under no circumstances were you to contact Taehyung again because he felt threatened by your relationship with your friend. Taehyung had tried for weeks to contact you but you never responded in fear of your boyfriend finding out. Maybe that should have been your first clue to the relationship you were in was toxic.

“Hello? Are you still there?” His deep voice came through the earpiece shocking you out of your thoughts.

“Eh, yeah. Is uh, ahem, is everything alright?” Your voice was slightly shaking now and you tried your best to calm your nerves.

“Huh? Oh yeah! Everything is ok. I just wanted to call and ask for a small favor?” He continued as if nothing bad went down between the both of you, “my apartment building is getting renovated and I need somewhere to stay for a bit.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “Don’t you have any friends to stay with?” You asked.

“Yeah! That’s why I’m calling you! You’re my only friend around here.” You could hear the smile in his tone and your heart sunk into your stomach.

That was another thing you felt awful for. You drug Taehyung to Seoul from Daegu after high school. Neither of you wanted to leave the other and you wanted to live in the big city, so he complied with your wishes and left everyone and everything behind. For four years you two were everything to one another, only having a handful of friends between the both of you but not really hanging out with them. Jongdae had met you through Taehyung at a work office party. The three of you were pretty close together until the two of you started dating. Jongdae moved higher up at the office and in your life as Taehyung eventually faded from both. You weren’t sure where he’s been working the past year and a half but you heard from some people at the office that he was doing extremely well for himself.

“I-I’m sorry Taehyung. I have a lot on my plate right now and being here wouldn’t exactly be easy for you..” you started before he cut in.

“Are you still with Jongdae? Is this about him? I promise I’ll keep to myself. I work a lot anyhow.” He hurried his explanation.

“No we aren’t together, we haven't been for 9 months..that’s not the point. The point is that I just don’t think it will be a good fit for you here.”

“Y/N please. I have nowhere else to go. My work is here and I can’t go back home because of it. I know things got really weird for a while and I’m not mad about it or upset, I just really need somewhere to stay. Please.”  Your heart clenched at his words. How could you refuse him after all you’ve dragged him through?

"Taehyung..." you started again to be cut off - again.

"I can pay if me being there makes your bills higher. I will compensate you for it. You don't even have to feed me. I can buy my own food. It will be like I'm not even there. Are you still working at the floral shop? I can drop by this afternoon and maybe talking face to face would be better?" his voice was pleading and you didn't want to tell him no, but you also couldn't say yes. What were you to do?

You stayed silent a moment longer before sucking in a deep breath and steeling your nerves, "That's fine. Just, uh, I'm on a sort of vacation right now so you can just stop by the apartment. I moved by the way..I will text you my new address." the end of your sentence ending up as a mumble.

"Thank you! Thank you! You are such a life saver! I have some free time right now so I will head over!" excited was an understatement for how he sounded and a part of you felt good, but you weren't sure how he would react to how things have turned out.

After a quick goodbye, you sent him your current address and quickly went to go take a shower after a promise to be there in 45 minutes from Taehyung. The hot shower did nothing to help calm your nerves. You haven't seen his face in so long. Memories of a boxy smile, golden brown hair, and loving tight hugs flow through your mind.  Taehyung had been your rock through everything. Countless boyfriends, countless late night breakdowns. Don't even get you started on how many times he picked your sorry ass up from a bar after a night out drinking alone. At one point you were in love with the boy, head over heels. You buried your feelings in other men who came to realize the fact that it was Taehyung you wanted and not them.

Why you never told him of your feelings, you will never know. Maybe a deep soul search is something you needed. Before you reazlied it, the water was running cold in the shower, indicating you had been in there way too long. You quickly went through your routine of drying your hair and putting it up into a pony tail and pulling on a pair of black gym shorts and an old loose fitting shirt. You still weren't feeling your best after having Ji-ah. During your 24 hour labor, she decided to breech and an emergency c-section went into play. Your stomach tendons were extremely tender still but at least you were able to get up and move around with minimal to no pain. It had been the scariest moment of your life, but definitely well worth it.

You peeked your head into the nursery, your little pink bundle was still soundly sleeping, shutting the door softly when you heard a knock on the front door. You tiptoed as quietly from her room as possible, hoping Taehyung wouldn't knock again before you could get to it just in case it woke up the sleeping baby. With a shaking hand you reached out and unlocked the deadbolt before twisting the handle and pulling open the heavy metal door. You weren't prepared for what awaited you behind that door, the breath being knocked out from your lungs.

Taehyung had definitely gotten taller, and his complextion darker than you last remember it to be. His hair was now a golden blonde, pushed up from his head by a bandana. His body was more lean and muscular, made even more obvious by the tight jeans and nice dress shirt he wore. The smile on his face was still the same though, that same smile you had fallen in love with so many years ago.

"Y/N! Wow! Look at you! You look all grown up! I like your hair!" he said reaching out to touch the strands hanging from your hair tie, leaving you statue still as he examined the new light brown color you had dyed it before Ji-ah made her appearance. It was still something you were getting used to as your hair had always been black.

"T-thanks." you stumbled over your words, moving back slowly to allow him entrance into your apartment. His smile never wavered as he stepped through the threshold, examining the apartment with as much interest as he showed in your hair. You let him wander around the apartment for a few minutes while you leaned your back against the wall the lead down the hallway, watching him silently.

Several minutes passed and once he was satisfied with whatever it was he was looking for, he turned to you suddenly, causing you to jump slightly. He let out a low whistle and perched on the arm of the couch, his hands between his thighs as he looked at you.

"How have you been?" he asked gently.

Your head tilted to the side slightly as you pondered his question. "I've been...okay." you said carefully. He just nodded slightly and kept his eyes on your face. "How about you?" you offered.

"I've been great, actually." his tone genuine causing a small smile to appear on your own lips. You were happy or him, truly happy. You wanted nothing but the best for him and god knows he deserved it after everything.

The silence filled the room with a thick atmosphere until Taehyung gently clapped his hands together. "So, have you thought about my proposal?" he asked. You knew it was going to get brought up, it was the whole reason you invited him over. You already knew you were going to say yes, HE knew you were going to say yes, but you liked the formality of him still asking permission and not just assuming.

"There's some things we need to discuss before I say yes." you said slowly.

"Like rent? I can pay for my stay, like I said on the phone." he started.

"No, it's not that it - " your sentence was cut off by a piercing scream coming down the hallway causing Taehyung to jump up from the couch looking startled. You pushed off the wall and walked down the hallway to the nursery, pushing open the door gently you shuffled across the white carpet to the crib.

"Shhh, shhh little one." you cooed as you bent down over the crib, wincing slightly at the muscles in your stomach tightening. "There we are.." you whispered as you held her close to your chest. Her screams quieted and her eyes looked up at you as her little cheeks pulled up into a soft gummy smile. You wrapped her blanket around her and turned to head out the door to return to Taehyung, but he was already there, confusion written all over his face.

"Are you babysitting?" he asked.

"Uh, no. This is uh, this is Ji-ah. She's mine." you stammered. Realization dawned across his face as his mouth hung slightly open, eyes wide. You started to feel uncomfortable and your stomach was whining in protest from standing for so long. Without a word you slipped past Taehyung slowly and headed into the kitchen to drop a premade bottle into the bottle warmer. You could hear Taehyung's steps close behind you so you turned to him with a small smile. "Jongdae left after he found out I was pregnant." was all you offered in explanation.

Taehyung's eyes seemed to narrow just a fraction and his whole demeanor changed slightly, "He left you?" words tense.

You just nodded softly and grabbed the bottle from the warmer after it beeped, alerting you to it. You dribbled a couple of drops on your arm to ensure that it wasn't too hot before allowing Ji-ah to eat her breakfast. "It's okay, I mean I'm okay." you said smiling as you slid onto a kitchen chair.

Taehyung followed suit and pulled his chair right in front of you, his elbows on his knees as he watched your face, looking for any indication that you were lying. You just raised your eyesbrows and questioned him, "Is there something on my face?" you joked, earning a small smile from him.

"What's her name?" he asked peering at the baby in your arms.

"Ji-ah." Taehyung seemed satisfied with that and nodded his head.

"Was this the thing we had to discuss before you said yes?" he pressed on.

You nodded for what felt like the 50th time today already, "Yes. Taehyung, I don't mind if you stay, I really don't...but Ji-ah is a really fussy baby. I don't know what you do for work but I'm sure it requires a lot of rest in between. My life is kind of hectic right now and I don't want you to suffer anymore because of me."

He was quiet for a few minutes, just silently watching Ji-ah eat, his fingers locking together in thought. Neither one of you spoke, the only sounds filling the room was the little grunting noises your daughter made as she hungrily sucked her bottle dry, causing her to start fussing once again.

Sitting her up, you held her as you patted her back gently, coaxing out that burp you knew was causing the fussing. Once you achieved what you wanted, her fussing turned into screaming, causing you to wince slightly as you stood up and walked around with her, trying to soothe her. Long fingers slowly grabbed your shoulder and turned you gently around, Taehyung looking at you with a weird look as he held his hands out slowly.

"Mind if I try?" he asked.

"I don't mind..but I don't know if she will calm down. No one else has held her.  I don't know how she's going to deal with a stranger." you warned.

Not speaking, Taehyung wrapped his hands around her, gently cradling her head as he held her to his chest, whispering gently in her ear, soothing the screams that were coming from her tiny body until she was silent once again. Her little bald head was resting against his shoulder as he cooed to her and played with her hand. The sight caused your heart to clench.

"Are you alright? Why are you crying?" Taehyung asked softly.

"Huh?" you asked dumbly, wiping at the tears in your eyes. You had never imagined in a million years that this scene before you would play out. You had thought Taehyung had moved on and had someone to call his own, possibly a family already in the works. You never imagined Taehyung standing in your living room holding your baby girl, calming her relentless screaming and asking if you were okay because you couldn't control your emotions. You had never imagined how much you had missed him. "I'm okay." you croaked out, averting his gaze.

Taehyung stared at you for a moment longer before nodding and allowing you to give him a short answer before he sat down on the dark blue recliner that was in the living room, still holding gingerly onto Ji-ah. He seemed to be at ease and unbothered, so you allowed yourself to relax into the soft cushions of the matching blue couch.

"Are you hurt?" he asked after a few minutes. "You keep flinching everytime you have to bend." his eyes never missed anything.

"Complications during birth. I had to have a c-section. I guess I'm still a little more tender than I thought." you said with a small smile. "I'm okay though. The doctor said another week and most of the pain should subside, though I still can't lift anything heavier than Ji-ah so I don't cause too much distress to my muscles."

You leaned your head back against the couch, you could feel your eyes drifting slowly. This was the most peaceful moment you've had in the three weeks since Ji-ah was born and you didn't realize how exhausted your body was until this moment. Allowing your eyes to close for a minute, you soaked in the silence of the room, urging your body to relax and release the tension it's been holding for so long.

You don't know how long you slept, all you know is it was the best sleep you have had in over nine months. When you finally opened your eyes, the afternoon sun was high and shining brightly through your open balcony doors, the breeze blowing the sheer white ccurtains that you had hung just a week ago. The air was cool and refreshing as it grazed across your face, bringing a smile to your lips as your stretched as much as your body would allow you to. All too quickly though, you suddenly remembered you had a child and she wasn't within your sight.

With haste you jumped from the couch and ran to her nursery, the room was dark and she was nowhere in sight. A panic set into your chest as you set into a sprint through the hallway to your living room and ran quickly to the open balcony doors, revealing Taehyung sitting on a blanket, with Ji-ah resting gently against his stomach as he read from a book. The panic began to die down as your leaned slowly against the door frame, crossing your arms watching them.

"...Little pigs, little pigs! LET ME IN!" he said in a voice deeper than his normal one, "Not by the hairs on our chinny chin chins!" his voice raising a few octaves, causing a small giggle from Ji-ah. "Then I'll HUFF and I'll PUFF and I'll BLOW YOUR HOUSE INNNNNNNN!" he finished, pretending to blow down an imaginary house, his face turning a slight red shade, causing a laugh to burst from your mouth. Taehyung jumped slightly and whipped his head back to look at you before a big grin covered his face.

"Hey, sleepy head. You feel better?" he asked turning towards you and placing Ji-ah over his shoulder before standing up and walking to you.

You nodded, "Mm. I feel a lot better actually. I'm sorry I fell asleep and left you stuck with my baby." you scratched the back of your head, cheeks heating up with embarassment.

"It was my pleasure. We were just getting to know each other, huh?" he asked your smiling baby.

"So, about the living arrangements. I don't mind if you stay, Taehyung. I would actually enjoy the company." you confessed, looking him in his big brown eyes, a smile exploding across his features again.

"Thank you! Y/N you are honestly saving me right now. Thank you so much, I promise it'll be like I'm not even here. I'll clean up after myself and cook for myself, you don't have to do anything for me." he rushed.

"I can cook, it's not a problem. I cook for myself anyway, there's no sense in cooking two seperate dinners. We can just take turns washing dishes and of course, you can do your own laundry, other than that I have everything covered."

Taehyung nodded eagerly, opening his mouth to say something but was cut off due to his phone ringing in his pocket. He gently handed Ji-ah back to you before pulling the sleek black phone from his pocket and answering quickly. You headed back into your apartment, giving him privacy as you sat your tiny bundle into her bouncer seat while you picked up around the living room and went to prepare her a bottle.

"Hey, I have to head into my office. Is it alright if I bring my things by tonight after I get off? Renovations start in a couple days." Taehyung suddenly spoke from behind you, pulling the bandana from his head and ruffling his hair to make it look presentable.

"Ah, yeah that's okay! Let me give you a spare key just in case I'm not here. I have a couple errands to run later and I'm not sure what time I'll be back." you offered as you dug around your kitchen drawer for the spare key you kept. Finally grabbing it you handed it over to Taehyung, who gave his thanks and quickly left with a short wave goodbye before closing the door behind him.

•>•>•>•>•>••>•>•>•>•>•

"When do you go back to work?" Taehyung asked around a mouthful of rice. It was a Thursday night, and it's been about two weeks since Taehyung had moved in. Things were going really great actually. When he wasn't at work, he was typically placed on the couch with his laptop on the coffee table, glasses perched on his nose while his fingers moved gracefully across his keyboard. Though if he wasn't working, he had Ji-ah in his lap playing with her and letting you do what you needed to do with little to no interuptions. You honestly couldn't be more thankful towards him than you were at this point, even if you felt like you didn't deserve it.

"I'm supposed to go back on Monday..." you trailed off, pushing your carrots around your plate and avoiding his gaze. You still weren't sure how you were going to get back to work with Ji-ah. You didn't make enough for daycare and you had no one around to watch her. You had spent hours searching online for anyone who would watch her for relatively cheap prices, but no one wanted to watch a newborn for cheap - even if all she did through the day was sleep.

"Supposed? Are you thinking of not going back?" He questioned, taking a sip of his water. His attention was on Ji-ah, who was cooing at him from her bouncer seat on the table so she could keep you both in her sights at all times.

"I don't have anyone to watch Ji-ah." you confessed through a defeated sigh.

"Just take her to the daycare at the office. I work there so I get the daycare for free." Taehyung said as if it were the most simple explanation in the world. "Though, I would have to tell them it's my kid." he finished.

You choked on your water for a second, causing Taehyung to jump up from his chair to come over and pat you on the back. "Are you okay?" concern laced through his deep voice. You managed to nod while you cleared your throat, and taking a deep breath.

"Sorry." you said sheepishly. "I don't want to put you in a difficult position, Taehyung. I couldn't ask you to do that." you explained.

"You're letting me stay here for free and I want to do it. It wouldn't complicate anything anyway. Just let me do this for you. Please?" his brown eyes bore into yours, pleading. He stuck his bottom lip out in a cute little pout that made you laugh at him and agree.

As bad as you felt about taking advantage of Taehyung and his job, you were extremely thankful for his offer. Letting Taehyung stay here was a blessing in disguise. You guys got over all your bad past after you sat him down one night after one too many glasses of wine, and explained to him everything about why you cut off contact. He had admitted that Jongdae asked Taehyung to stay away from you, because he had a feeling there as something else hiding underneath your smiles and teasing jokes towards your best friend. Jongdae did what the other boys didn't dare do, send Taehyung along on his merry way.

To be frank you weren't all that surprised that Jongdae did that. Taehyung admitted that's why he quit calling after two weeks. Jongdae cornered him at work and threatened his job if he didn't stop. Taehyung didn't know what to do so he just complied, and eventually left the company all together and started at a new job the following week. A job where he is a project manager and a hell of a lot better off than Jongdae was now, a respected position in his building.

After dinner Taehyung helped you clean up and and the three of you spent the rest of the night on the living room floor playing and reading stories. It was something you had always imagined having a family would be like, something you had always wanted. Thinking back on it though, you could have never imagined this kind of thing with Jongdae. He was always more worried about himself and his appearance. He liked material things and liked being able to go where he wanted without anything holding him down. One thing he did a lot was travel - and not even for work - it was for pleasure, and you were always left home. It never bothered you, because you hated to travel, but the fact that he spent half of your relationship in other countries for his own pleasure, left a bad taste in your mouth.

You never thought about all the fucked up things he did while you were together, but now you were thankful he high tailed it when he found out you were pregnant. It gave you the confidence you needed in yourself to be able to do things on your own. It also brought Taehyung back into your life, something you never knew you needed until it happened. You silently thanked Jongdae for being a self centered dick.

Around 9, you and Taehyung cleaned up the living room together and you brought out extra pillows and blankets for him to use like you do every night. He held Ji-ah while you made up the couch for him. You walked to him and took Ji-ah gently, for he had rocked her to sleep already while you fixed his bed. "Thanks." you whispered, giving him a smile before turning and walking your baby back to her room to lay her down for the night. After one more walkthrough the apartment, making sure everything was unplugged, turned off, and locked up, you went to bed after telling Taehyung goodnight you finally went to bed.

Roughly around three in the morning, you were woken up by screaming in the baby monitor beside your bed. It wasn't odd considering Ji-ah hardly slept through the night, but what was odd, was the fact that you heard someone speaking softly to her. Your heart seized in your chest, straining to listen to who was talking, thinking there was a kidnapper in your childs room, until you recognized the voice - Taehyung.

"shhh, baby girl. You gotta let your mommy sleep." you heard him say. "She's so tired. She takes such good care of you, let's take good care of her, hm?"

You felt your eyes start to sting and soon you were crying. Hand over your mouth to stifle the sobs that were threatening to burst forth, you listened as he sang your baby to sleep. You waited until it was silent and you heard the click of the door closing before you stood up and walked to the hallway. You could see his back retreating down the hall and you rushed forward, grabbing the back of his shirt to stop him.

"Tae..." you choked out.

He stopped and turned towards you, shock on his face, "Y/n? Are you okay? Did I wake you up?" he asked, his voice concerned.

"No..I..." you didn't even know what to say. So you did the only thing you could think of - you hugged him. He seemed shocked at the sudden show of affection but suddenly his arms were around your body, holding you close and tight. You weren't sure how long you stayed hugging in the middle of the hallway, but you didn't care. It had been so long since you and Taehyung had any sort of physical contact, and you craved it. You missed his hugs and you missed the way he used to hang all over you.

"I hope I didn't overstep boundaries by putting Ji-ah back to sleep.." he murmured against your head.

"No." you replied. You weren't sure if you should mention about hearing what he said to her or not, but you just decided to leave it. "You should probably get back to sleep. You have to be up in a couple hours." you said instead.

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning." he said gently before kissing the top of your head, leaving you stock still in the hallway. He didn't look back or anything, just walked out of your line of sight. Your cheeks were flushed, you could feel the heat in them, a grin slowly spreading on your face.

That was something you could get used to.

Survey #175

“imagine living like a king someday, a single night without a ghost in the walls.”

Have you ever had a teacher hit on you? Not to my recollection. Have you ever seen your ex’s new partner? If so, what do you think of them? I don't know or care if he currently has one. Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months? Done it twice now, it's not difficult if you're picky and serious with who you date. Does anybody know about your sex life other than your partners? Well my mom was somewhat aware of things that were happening. What was the last piece of candy you ate? Good question. I got my tongue re-pierced because of a bar length issue with swelling, and now this one is just shy of long enough to disable me from biting down entirely (they're snake eyes, so across the tip). I'm only just getting back into eating soft things very slowly unless I want pain, so candy's a no. I have to wait no less than three weeks to get a correctly-sized bar, and it's only been just over one aaaahhh. Have you ever been dared to do something you totally regretted? No. Is your room painted or wallpapered? Painted. What is the best kind of pizza in your opinion? I'm an American I stan them meat lovers. Is there something that someone has done to you that you cannot forgive? No. Well actually idk, I still don't know for *sure* if I forgive him. Like I'm completely over it and it no longer affects me, but I could never ever ever ever look at him even remotely the same or even consider trusting him. I don't think that's supposed to happen when you forgive someone. Have you ever broken a plate/bowl? Accidentally by dropping. What is your favorite restaurant? Olive Garden. Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? I don't think so. Do you know anyone who has a homosexual parent? No. What type of music could this world live without? Pure screamo (no, not as a carpet term for metal). Are any of your pets “overweight”? No. Who’s the last person you cried over? Does myself count? Did the house you grew up in have a fence? Yeah, but not all around. What’s your YouTube channel name? 0zzkat. Who of your FB friends has the cutest toddler(s)? Uhhhh idk. Anastasia's baby girl is pretty cute, I guess. Did you decorate pumpkins this year? No. :/ They were totally gone the day we were gonna get one (the day before Halloween so no, we weren't that surprised lmao). What’s the craziest color you’d dye your hair? More like what color WOULDN'T I dye it? What’s the coolest hobby one of your friends has? Uhhh. Idk. Name a video game you can play over and over again? Shadow of the Colossus. I've beaten it around 30 times. Would be more if I didn't lose the disc, buuut it's actually coming in the mail now! What is something that will make you laugh instantly? Don't show me that fucking Linkin Park "crawling in my crawl" worm video. Name a movie you wouldn’t watch solely based on its name? None come to mind. What’s your dearest souvenir? *shrugs* What was the last strong scent you smelled? Probably coffee bc of Mom. Have you ever been in an unconventional relationship (long distance, polyamorous, same gender, age gap, etc)? If so, what challenges did this relationship present, and were they worth overcoming? Long instance + same-sex simultaneously. Distance is fucking hard when you really want each other's company, especially for emotional support. Being same-sex makes me nervous due to potential violent homophobics, especiiiiaaaally living where I do. I do it regardless, but even just holding hands leaves me worrying some asshole is going to cause a problem. I know my sister's husband isn't at all fond of it either and I'm 99% sure he's why Sara's never met the kids. But anyway, all those things are absolutely worth it. Would you ever consider something like a poly relationship, assuming everyone involved was alright with it? What are some things you think you would or wouldn’t like about it? Absolutely not, because I strictly believe in the exclusiveness of love. What is the most unhealthy relationship (whether friendship or romantic) you’ve ever had? What made it so unhealthy? Do you still talk to each other? Colleen, probably. We are just about the antitheses of each other, yet we were "best friends." We disagreed too frequently, she was drama-ravenous, we kept leaving and coming back, etc. No, we don't talk now, and I refuse to ever do so again as friends. Have you ever been abusive in any way? Were you able to change or make amends, or, in general, what do you think people should do to make amends in that situation? No. I absolutely do not believe in "making amends" with your abuser. Keep them the fuck out of your life. Have you ever forgiven someone for being abusive or allowed someone toxic back into your life? Did this person change for the better or not? Toxic... you mean Colleen? Did it too many times, and no, she didn't. Do you feel like your age matches your emotional development? If not, what age level or maturity level do you feel best represents where you’re at? Part of me says no, another says yes. I guess it depends on the subject. What is one thing about your personality that embarrasses you, but you can’t seem to change it no matter how hard you try? Have other people called you out on this embarrassing thing? Being socially awkward as all hell, and yes. When was the last time you did something “meant” for children? Do you think it’s okay for adults to do these things (ie. watch cartoons, have stuffed animals, dress in cute clothing, etc), or do you think there’s an age beyond which it becomes unacceptable - and if so, why? I was playing Spyro just earlier today lmao. In almost all cases, no. I do believe that something like a full-grown adult playing pretend with dolls or something may be questionable, but even then there's not a real reason I can give you. What was the last thing to “trigger” you (as in, in a true mental health sense, I’m being serious here) and how did you cope with it? What kinds of things do you tend to find triggering? What do you do either avoid or face your triggers? Something PTSD-related, but I can't remember exactly what it was, I guess because I got past it pretty quickly. There are certain songs I should avoid, I canNOT look at the medicine I ODed on, I don't like seeing or being near large knives at all... If you’re diagnosed with anything, do you feel that it accurately represents what you’re experiencing? All of them, yeah. What is a complaint you have about the mental health industry or about the type of treatment you’ve received from a mental health service? Have you ever had any particularly bad therapy experiences? I feel that too many people working in the field care far more about the pay than the people. I can't guarantee a professional truly cared about what I was dealing with until Holly Hill. I've had one particularly horrible psychiatrist that threw diagnoses and pills around like they were nothing (the most ridiculous being ADHD, which I in no way exhibited), and a long-time therapist I had was pretty bad, something I realized only after I started with my current one. She was strict about that "you've got an hour, you're staying an hour, you're leaving no later" shit, and we always ran out of things to talk about so I'd just be sitting there super uncomfortably and numerous times start crying because I felt so awkward, and she'd just take it as a sign that I wasn't telling her something. She drove "and how does that make you feel" and "what're you thinking of" into the goddamn ground. Yeesh, having been a mental health patient for so long, I could really write a novel here. When was the last time you realized you might be the source of a problem and NOT someone else? Hm, idk. I'm so uninvolved with others that that's a hard question to answer. What are some minor physical discomforts that really bug you (eyelash in your eye, a wedgie, rumpled socks, etc)? HAVING THE BOTTOMS OF YOUR PANTS GET WET. I hate chapped lips, too. Do you prefer vertical or horizontal stripes? Horizontal. Have you ever ridden a motorcycle? No. Are you ticklish? YEAH. Have you ever tried to make your own alcohol? No. If you were to join one of the armed forces, which would it be? I wouldn’t. Have you ever been in a submarine? No. Have you ever been in a hot tub or sauna? Only hot tubs. Do you believe there used to be dragons? No. What was your first alcoholic drink? A Mike's hard lemonade. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane? Idk, I was a baby. What was your first detention for? Too many tardies. Did you ever have a treehouse as a kid? No. Have you ever been on radio? No. How long has your longest ever phone call been? A few hours. What is a meal you eat extremely often? Or do your meals & food choices vary a lot? Ummm I guess some kind of chicken is common? When was the last time you felt unable or unwilling to speak your mind to someone? Idk. What was the last thing you changed your mind about? Uhhhh how am I blanking, I change my mind on things every five minutes. Who was the last friend you saw, and what did you do together? Sara's both my girlfriend but also the only "friend" I ever hang with now even tho we live several states apart lmao. I was there two weeks, so we did an array of stuff. Who tends to show up in your dreams? Do you ever wonder if you appear in anyone else’s dreams? Hell, I barely ever remember my dreams. Jason still shows up maybe ehhhh around or maybe less than once a month, and I have no clue why other than maybe there's some PTSD effects I don't actually detect or something? It's not like I think about him much, so I really don't see why he shows up, but the theme is constant: awkwardness seeing each other again, and he sometimes tries to get back with me (thank FUCKING GOD even in my dreams, I don't). Sara's in some dreams that I remember. Mom, maybe. What is something you wish you could say to someone who is no longer in your life, or something you wish they could know? Nothing. What is something you do to feel better when you’re scared? I'll usually turn to YouTube for a distraction. Who do you feel you can count on the most in life? Is there anyone you wish you could count on more? Mom. What is the strangest book you have ever read? How did you find out about it? Probably Bite Me by idr-who. I actually don't remember. What was the last thing you broke? How about fixed? Another sensor came off the keyboard. :') I dunno about fixed. Is there a sign or symbol that means a lot to you for whatever reason (eg. seeing certain animals or birds, 11:11 or other repeating numbers, syncs, butterflies, hearts in nature, etc)? Butterflies and semicolons. Hence my semicolon butterfly tattoo. Do you have any personal ghost stories or paranormal experiences? Yeah. What do you get complimented on the most? My hair. What is something unusual that you find attractive? why does?????? everyone hate fedoras tbh?????????? What time do you tend to eat your first meal of the day? And your last? BOY this varies so much like fuck. Sometimes I don't eat breakfast at all, sometimes I do right when I get outta bed. Dinner can be at like almost 10:00 with Mom's schedule, or I may have it like five hours earlier. What was the subject of the last video you watched? I'm getting into a horror LPer and I'm binging her Silent Hill playthroughs. How would you describe your overall aesthetic? I like pink but bloody guts and brains are cool 2. What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? N/A What was your favorite thing to do as a little kid? Play video/computer games. Have you ever been close to drowning? No. Do you watch any Japanese anime? Not currently, but I've kinda had the urge to pick an interesting one up? Do you have someone who is protective of you (father, brother, etc.)? Mom and Sara above anyone else. Where was the last place you went, that you hadn’t been to before? Uhhhhh good question. I don't exactly go to new places often. Do you have any bad habits you aren’t working on changing? If so, do you ever think you’ll try to break them? I don't believe so off the top of my head? Then again I think everyone has little bad habits they don't try to improve upon, but I can't think of anything serious. When was the last time someone surprised you with their reaction or behaviors? I'm sure something with Mom, but idk what. Are you good at committing to things like Nanowrimo or Inktober? Nope. What is your preferred method of expressing yourself? Writing. Or drawing if I'm in the mood. Have you ever reached out to a crisis center for mental health support? If so, how was the experience? I tried to reach the suicide hotline via their online one-on-one chatroom because I was too afraid to actually call, but I ended up waiting I think 45 minutes before the OD happened. When was the last time you did something you were afraid to do, and how was the outcome? I drove at night and ordered food at a drive-thru myself. It went well. What is one positive thing you believe about yourself? I have a strong sense of right and wrong. What is something you have been through that has made you stronger? Depression as a whole. Other than money, what is something you wish you had more of in your life? Social life, success, and motivation to name a few. Is there anything that you tend to ignore for the sake of your sanity? Sure. Mental health stuff flares up sometimes if I think about some things too deeply. What was the last thing you argued or debated about? Did you eventually agree, or did you have to agree to disagree? Getting rid of Bentley, and neither, really. Mom knows we shouldn't have him for a world of reasons, yet she refuses to try to find a far more suitable home for him or at least talk to Nicole about it (he's her dog, but she doesn't live here), who's never even paid him almost any attention. I could rant about this for hours. What is something you wish was different about your family? THAT WE WERE CLOSER. What is your main struggle or focus in life right now? Getting out of the house/becoming more of a functioning adult. Are you more dramatic or stoic? I'm neither extreme, really, but I'd say I'm much further from stoic. Are you on medication for anything? If so, do you feel like it helps? Have you ever been afraid to take medication or had a particularly bad experience with it? A lot, but the only ones I feel don't work are the ones for my tremors and knees. I was on one med for a while that I was scared to take because it made me vomit (safe to say I wasn't on it long), and even my life-saver med made me sick at first, but I took prescription nausea pills to ride that out as my body adjusted. Do you prefer having long or short nails? Short, but not too short. When was the last time you had an argument with one of your parents? Idr. Do you tend to eat the same few things all the time or do you vary your intake? Would you consider yourself to be a picky eater? Are there any commonly enjoyed foods that you don’t like? I'm picky and definitely have a limited palate. Some foods I can think of for the last question include fried chicken, BBQ, watermelon, tacos, all cheeses but American, aaaand I'm blanking again in an area I should have a book about. Do you have good body image? Do you feel more confident about your body or your personality? What is one thing about yourself about which you do feel particularly confident? Ha, as if, so personality. I like how open-minded I am. How likely are you to compliment other people? How do you react or respond when you receive a compliment? What are your favorite types to receive? It depends on the person, the atmosphere, and my anxiety level. I sometimes fear complimenting people because I don't want someone to be like "um why is she talking to me?"/"is she flirting with me?"/"why did she notice that?", etc. I become so giddy (at the very least internally) when people compliment me because of how my self-esteem is, and I really appreciate them. The compliments that mean most to me are regarding my photography. With how badly I want to be a successful photographer, people seeming to genuinely like what I do has actually made me smile like an idiot and giggle publicly. It just means a lot to me. Describe the last thing you reblogged? How many posts do you tend to reblog during a day? A clip of Mark having a fit over a dog in RDR2. How much I reblog varies greatly; depends on how much I get on Tumblr that day, what I feel like sharing at that moment, what I queue... Have you ever lost your cool at work or somewhere else important? What happened as a result? No. Do you listen to your friends’ advice when they give it to you? Depends. If it's Sara, I usually do. What’s the last kind of soup you ate? Vegetable. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? It is pierced. The most memorable time that you skipped school, what did you do? I don't recall. Did you ever have a favorite teacher in high school? What made them your favorite? Coach Collie. He was very friendly, wise, his sense of humor was great, he cared deeply for his students, was super chill, shared life advice all the time, etc. etc. Can you think of a time when you were really obviously judged by your appearance? What happened? Not that I recall. What’s something your mother told you growing up that you actually listened to? Mind your manners. What are three emotions you experience regularly? Stress, content, but also discontent. What is your favorite Halloween candy? Reese's. Is there anyone who refuses to communicate with you? *shrugs* What was the last lengthy packet you filled out? Something for vocational rehab. Is there something you still can’t do even though you’re an adult or might be expected to do this thing? I don't have a job or drive. When was the last time you congratulated someone? Were you happy for them, indifferent, jealous? When I found out one of my closest high school friends is pregnant. I was obviously happy for her. What would you say is your STRONGEST emotion? Maybe not the most frequent, but the most intense? And what emotion do you feel most weakly, even if you might feel it more often? Anger; envy (but it's not often). Have you ever gone somewhere in your pajamas? What makes this acceptable or unacceptable to you? Plenty times, but it depends on my level of shits given and the location. Honestly wish pjs were more acceptable in public places cuz like why not, you've got clothes on, just don't go around where everyone can totally see your dick, ass, or tits. Other than the usual things like IDs, etc, what do you always carry with you when you go out? My phone. What type of photography do you enjoy looking at? Do you take any photos yourself, and if so, what types of things do you prefer to photograph? LOTS!!!! I particularly love fantasy-styled portraiture or macabre work, and omg give me soft lighting. I'm a sucker for emotive or conceptual portraits and the like. I like to photograph an array of things, but my faves are nature and animals. Have you ever gone out for the Black Friday shopping rush? Did you enjoy it, or not so much? Or, what’s the busiest shopping day you’ve ever experienced? Nope. Busiest shopping day I indirectly experienced was when I worked at GameStop during the holiday season... nope. It's a small store and it was flooded. I hated it. Idk about one where I/my family was the shopper. Do you enjoy reading diaries or stories you wrote from when you were younger, or does it embarrass you? If you’ve kept them, was there a particular reason for hanging on to them so long? No. No. No. NO. I can't stomach going any further back than '15 at the RP forum because fucking cringe. All old stuff like physical journals and such, they're long gone because I never want to see them again lmao. What would you say was your first true hobby? What about your most recently developed one? Hmmm, probably video games were the first things I was *really* deep into. Recently developed... good question. Is there one thing that throws off your mood more than others, whether it be lack of sleep, lack of food, heat/cold, etc? I'M FUCKING /CRANKY/ IF I'M HOT. Serious lack of sleep makes me moodier. What is one common area of life in which you feel you have little to no experience (college, children, marriage, etc)? Work and independence. What kinds of things are you likely to complain about? HEAT. If it's hot to me, you're gonna know. I'll complain if my stomach especially hurts, sometimes with other pain. Do you like to put any extra effort into your food in terms of presentation, or do you prefer to just put it on a plate and eat it as it is, no frills? I don't cook, so. But I'd definitely be the latter. When was the last time you were mean or rude to someone else? How about the last time someone acted that way toward you? I hung up on this insurance agency or whatever they are that call me every other goddamn day. I dunno about the second question. What kinds of things are most likely to make you lose your temper? Have you ever done something regrettable or embarrassing while angry? I fucking dare you to ridicule the mentally ill in front of me. Goddamn dare you. For the second part, not to my recollection. Do you have a large dog? No, both our dogs are medium-sized. If not, are you afraid of them? Not at all. Do your parents know that/if you smoke? I don't. What is the reason you last received money? Mom borrowed some from me so she was paying me back. Is anyone in your family sick? Not to my knowledge. Are you very upfront about things or do you "beat around the bush"? The latter, typically. Do you ever write poetry just to get your feelings out? Not really anymore. Middle and high school? I was all about it. I wrote only one poem this year. How many bones have you broken? None. Whose house did you visit last? My sister Ashley's. Have you ever bought a fragrance by a celeb because you liked who it was? No. Do you have a gazebo at your house? No. What’s your favorite brand of bottled water? Essentia.

Definitely not a one time thing

Chapter 2 (1,594)

After he closed the portal to her room, he opened one to his. The first thing he did was plop down on his bed and take a nap. When he woke up, it was around five o'clock. He could smell that dinner was almost done so he grabbed his phone and texted to see if Paris was hungry. By the time she had read the text, another portal was in her room leading her to his.

She rolled her eyes and walked through it. She instantly felt the wonderful sensations she felt the first time. When she got to his room, he was waiting by the door with one eyebrow cocked up at her. She hated that look. Well, hated loving it.

They walked down to the kitchen before he stopped to check himself out in the mirror on the hallway wall.

His blue eyes were changing to green and his blonde hair was changing to its usual organe/red. His diamond nose piercing sat in his left nostril. Both of his ears were double peirce. The first piercing was a black gauge. The second was connected to a chain that clipped to his hair.

He walked into the kitchen to find it full. His mother was finishing her and his father's dinner (they couldn't handle real food so they usually ate raw meat, tentacles and eyeballs. His mother is even worse. Raw flesh, human meat, and fish. That is all she can eat.) It smelt awful but he was used to it by now. Sitting at the island in the kitchen was his father.

His mother was 5'9 with long metallic silver hair, with black and red eyes. His father was 6'2 with wavy brown hair, and Heterochromia iridis. Meaning he has two different colored eyes. One was green and one was blue. Sitting in the dining room that was connected to the kitchen, was his little sister by two years, Theodora, and the twins, William and Jennifer. The twins were only seven being as they were ten years younger than Charlie himself.

Teddy (Theodora) had long brown hair that flowed past her bottom and bluish-greenish eyes. Benny (William), the older twin, he short brown hair and light blue eyes. Jenny (Jennifer), had the same short brown hair just a little longer, but light green eyes. Charles was the only one of the group with the ability to change his hair/eye color and the only one with their mothers mutation to do anything with the will of snapping their fingers.

While Peris and her family were human, they were extremely rich. Paris had long brown hair and stunning grey eyes. Paris sat next to Teddy who was sitting across from the twins. This left Charles to sit at the head of the table. His mother walked in around two minutes later with five plates of spaghetti. Not in her arms but following behind her.

"Don't call me lazy, Charlie!" She gave him a playful warning glare. "I'm not doing this because its the easy way, I'm doing this because I'm clumsy and don't want to spill your food."

"But even if you do drop it, magic could fix that!" He argued jokingly. They both laughed as she snapped her fingers and all of the plates glided to the table. Without Paris even noticing, her cup had filled with a sparkling liquid. She was scared to try it until Charlie noticed her and laughed at her.

"It's fresh water. Not filtered or recycled. Its the kind that man hasn't ruined yet." He explained before taking a sip so she knew it wasn't toxic. Their mother was crazy after all.

"Then isn't it filled with germs? Like fishy corps germs or bear piss?" She asked him worriedly.

"Do you know how stupid you sound right now?" He asked her. He, Teddy, and even Paris laughed. The twins were in their own world, discussing dragons and princesses, shit like that.

"Our mother is literally the most powerful person in the vast miltiverse. One snap and that water is good as new." Teddy explained. Paris nodded and began to eat. It was when they were halfway through with their meal that Charlie looked over to Paris.

"Hey Vain," he whispered to the girl beside him. She looked over to him and hummed. "You're never going to guess what I heard about our aunt Andie." He said referring to both of their parents' mutual friends (aunt) Andie and (uncle) Paul.

"What?" She whispered back as he swirled spaghetti onto his fork.

"This!" He said in his normal voice as he flung spaghetti right at William. It hit him in the cheek as he talked to his little sister. He gasped dramatically at Paris before kneeling in his chair while grabbing two handfuls of pasta before Teddy could stop him.

"FOOD FIGHT!" He yelled as he hit both Teddy and Paris in the face. Charlie, Jenny, and William died with laughter. Teddy was stunned and Paris was gapping. Paris looked over at Charlie and flung the spaghetti on her face onto him. Now her and Teddy were laughing too. Before anyone knew what was going on, spaghetti was everywhere. The roof, the walls, the children.

K'lynn walked in after she knew their fight was over. "Really Charlie?" She commented in an exasperated voice though her face looked like she was proud of her eldest son. She snapped her fingers and the room was cleaned. Even the children and their clothes were as they were before. That's probably a good thing seeing as Charlie had a spaghetti noodle in one of his gauges. She grabbed both of the twins and dragged them off to get ready for bed.

"Oh, momma, you got it? I could've cleaned up the room for you." He said as she was leaving. He was faking his most innocent voice. She flicked him off. He laughed and called after her again. "I love you momma!"

"Love you too, baby." She called back.

×××××××××××××

Charlie and Paris decided that they would get more work done if she stayed the night. They were sitting on his bed getting their project done on their laptops. When nine rolled around they both wanted to do nothing but sleep. Seing as they had been procrastinating for hours and only typed four words so far, they were trying to come up with a game plan.

"This is the same project that he assigned last week!" Paris exclaimed, shutting her computer screen. Charles laughed.

"Great! We can half ass it this time!" He said excitedly! She gave him a dirty look.

"You always half ass your work!"

"No! Lats time we quarter assed it! If we half ass it this time, he won't even know because the quality would be better!" He explained to her.

"At least we know your acing math. Logic and science maybe not but whatever." She joked. They both laughed before he closed his computer too.

"Can you at least use 75% of your ass?" She asked sweetly.

"No. Not possible. Too much." He said in a child's voice so he sounded defeated. "Oh!" He exclaimed excitedly, "what if you use half your ass and I used a quarter of mine! Id still get to slack off and you'd get your goal of 75% team work!" He told her. They shared a laugh. She made sure to stop before him so she could listen to it. She loved his roaring laughter.

"Do you mind if I use your shower? And of you send me a portal to my room so I can grab some pajamas?" She asked nervously.

"Um, of course you can use the bathroom but if you want, in the top drawer of my dresser, there is an old T and a pair of pajama bottoms. I haven't worn them in a year or so. To be clear, they're clean!" He told her. She laughed and nodded before grabbing the clothes he had mentioned. An old grey T-shirt and red and black plade pants. She quickly shower and got out. When she walked back into his bedroom, she froze from his being wierd.

He was sniffing the air. God, could he smell her arousle now that she wasn't wearing underwear?!

"Do you smell that?" He asked. Fuck! Was her first thought.

"Smell what?" She asked as sweat beaded down her face.

"I don't know. Its sweet but familiar. Why can't I place it?" He got up after shrugging his shoulders, apparently giving up on the search.

"Anyway, I figured you could sleep on the bed and id sleep at your feet or on the floor." He walked right next to her. She could smell his every scent. Her wetness only grew. "Well, ill be right back, ighit? Imma go get something to drink. Want any?" She shook her head no, too turned on to speak. She crawled under the covers and quickly fell out. She woke up a few hours later to find a lion at the feet of the bed.

She wanted to scream, but that would probably awaken it. The lion rolled over to reveal its massive appendage. She was disappointed in herself for looking, but at the same time, it was so big how could you not. It was when she went to move that the lion rolled over and stirred awake. She froze. He rolled onto his belly, still laying down. It looked her into the eyes before he started to mold into a man. Charles!

She was frozen in that spot.

The Purkinje Effect, 21

Table of Contents

“Such extensive damage.”

Carrington muttered to himself indiscernibly as he looked Geek over with various ginger palpations and medical devices. As the doctor scrutinized him, Geek sat obediently on the edge of one of the stone coffins, which had been simply left rather than move it when the Railroad had relocated its base of operations to this crypt. The stethoscope was ice-cold when it went to his chest and back to listen, but Geek didn’t really mind. The doctor clicked his tongue several times in disdain for the costliness of the treatment Geek had accepted so readily from Tinker Tom. The sample of excretion the doctor took from Geek’s scarred skin singed the swab, and he murmured in displeasure before trying again carefully with the side of an aluminum-barrel fountain pen. Geek watched while he did something with it, but couldn’t make out what he was doing.

“I’m surprised you’re even standing. This looks superficially similar to ghoulification, but I can’t reasonably assess the condition of your internal organs to verify that. What I can safely say is that you have definitely mutated. That dark mess you made seems to be a metal excretion achieved through a thiolated salt solution. Simply put, the diluted sulfuric acid from Tom’s serum infused in your bloodstream and a chemical reaction took place which leached all kinds of metal from your body via your sweat glands. Lead, iron, aluminum, even traces of uranium. That sludge in the floor will become a rich metal slag once the sweat evaporates. Did you all mean it literally when you said you’d eaten a Synth? Absolute revulsion aside, if you meant a Gen I or Gen II, that didn’t even have living tissues in it. No part of the earlier models isn’t toxic to a human being.”

Geek had watched Carrington gesticulate in near-exasperation without comment, taking in all he had to say.

“Mutated huh? Mutated... further.” He let out a heavy sigh, and picked at his now vacant right eye socket. “You wanted the whole story? I haven’t pieced everything together yet, but I’ll tell you what I have of it. I’m from Vault 82. South-Central Mass. I haven’t figured out what exactly the experiment was, but I know we was guinea pigs, an’ I know it had to do with feedin’ us goo for every meal. I just can’t tell ya whether the food dispensers screwin’ up was all according t’plan. I’ve got real cynical about all this shit over the years... I know for a fact I’m not the only one of us that started supplementin’ his diet with whatever appealed to him. The doc in Worcester called it pica, eatin’ all the things I personally can rattle off’s been on the menu, past hundred years or so. The food paste stopped bein’ enough on its own, when it was supposed to be a master-food with all the vitamins and junk anybody needed. Maybe it wasn’t the machines. Maybe it spoiled. Who knows how long the experiment was supposed to go on.”

“Why do you say your nutritional dependency was a mutation?”

“I’ve eaten a thousand different things, ate ‘em solid. An’ they never came out... undigested. I’ve been digestin’ everything I’ve eaten. Makes sense how I sweated? ...the metal. But it makes me wonder if that’s what use my sweat will serve me now, or if I gotta keep gettin’ more a Tom’s shots to detox.” Geek looked up knowingly and pointed at Carrington to catch him before garnering commentary, recognizing a gap in his story. “But y’know what I ain’t been digestin’? Actual fuckin’ food.”

“You... might try some normal food now.” Deacon had come up to them after changing back into his casual white dress shirt and slacks. “Ease into it.”

“You’ve mentioned preservatives before bein’ a factor in all this,” Hancock started, having been sitting in the doctor’s chair with his arms crossed the whole time. “Mister Intel might have a point. Maybe prewar food ain’t totally off-limits to ya. Fancy Lads are about as much of a nonfood as it gets. An’ you were eating on that tub of shortening. Usually easing into eating food again after being critically ill means lots of soup, but for you it might mean just bridging back to what you’re supposed to be eating.”

“You’re not entirely wrong to speculate such,” Carrington nodded, brow wrinkled as he looked over to Hancock briefly. He’d forgotten he was there, he’d been so quiet. “People who are born into a settlement with higher caliber food sources, like Diamond City with its multiple quality restaurants, tend to do very poorly adapting to wasteland fare. But wastelanders who’ve been long accustomed to RadBug for protein, tato for their starch staple, and shelf-stable prewar food--they tend to be able to eat anything. I’ve read in medical journals, as well, that cultures with lean diets adjust abominably to high-fat cuisine, and vice versa. You might have been unable to stomach unpreserved foods because you were shocking your system. Which... brings me to the other half of my prognosis.”

“I... just might try it. There’s no tellin’ whether Tom’s shot might’ve complicated the range of what I can stomach.”

“And that’s exactly what I was getting at. I likely couldn’t pry the exact ingredients of the injection from Tom, but I know there’s bacteria cultures in it. Part of what makes the human digestive tract so successful is a symbiosis with key bacteria. Honestly, before you mentioned confidently that you were digesting the things you’ve swallowed, I thought perhaps the issue was that the toxins of what you were ingesting had killed yours off, but now I only feel more confident in theorizing that if you were mutated, so were the bacterial cultures that live in your stomach and intestines. You have adapted to eat the way you’ve been eating, that’s for certain. But whether the bacteria in Tom’s injection will end up competing with those inside you, only time and tests will tell. Antibiotics can be complicated to predict.”

“Does this mean bloodwork?” Geek flinched. He didn’t want to know whether his blood was still neon pink after all this.

“Yes, but to be perfectly fair with you, it’s going to be slow-going. I’ve only got the time at the moment to have this discussion because your dramatic arrival with my prototype has frozen progress in HQ.” Carrington tourniqueted Geek’s upper arm with a length of rubber, and easily found a vein. Steeled for the stick, the pink ghoul readily let the doctor draw four vials. As predicted, the blood nearly looked like hot pink milk. They both reacted poorly to the sight. “Once business resumes as normal, I will only have so much time to scrutinize your exact condition to give you a definitive diagnosis. I’m still not positive you’re not terminal, but this once-over gives me the reassurance to turn you loose to take stock for yourself of how your body reacts to its mutations.”

“...So you’re still tellin’ me I’m on forced leave.”

“You’re not even hired yet!” Carrington massaged his temples with one hand and grunted, then pulled composure into his shoulders, and snapped the rubber off Geek’s arm. The doctor then capped the blood samples to deposit them temporarily into a medical tray nearby. “But yes, I’m not even considering taking you on until you see whether you can function a week from now. I can tell your body’s still eliminating toxins. You’re going to continue sweating, and this sweat is caustic. There’s a good chance you’re going to accumulate further damage.”

“Can’t get much worse,” Geek rasped jokingly, messing with the hair he had left. “Sweat don’t really burn me much, but I seen what it did to that cotton ball. I’ll be careful.”

Carrington handed him his jumpsuit and armor, having gotten to the end of his patience with his impromptu patient. Exhaustion dripped from his dismissal.

“Have a care, will you?”

“Do my best.” Geek didn’t put his coveralls back on just yet, dumping them into Hancock’s objecting lap. He purposely kept hold of one of his shoulder pieces. “Before we leave, though, I gotta talk to Tom.”

Approaching the eccentric from across the room, Geek interrupted Tom scrutinizing something on the terminal on the desk at which he sat. The man mumbled to himself, eyes dull with information.

“Tinker Tom?” he started. Tom jerked up from his train of thought and came to.

“Hm? Oh, it’s you! You really mean it, that you feel better? That’s definitely the first time that’s ever happened with my serum.”

“Yeah,” Geek smiled. “I think so. Sorry to interrupt. I’m about to head out, but I had to do two things first. One, I had to thank you. Your treatment was unorthodox, but I think it was exactly what I needed. And two, Carrington mentioned you’re the quartermaster?”

“No need to thank me,” Tom beamed, slouching back in his desk chair. “And that’s correct. You hittin’ me up for goods? I don’t know what all I can rightly part with, since you’re not a bonafide agent yet, but I’m sure I have something juicy.”

“I ain’t lookin’ for handouts, especially not after how much y’helped me out with my health. I need somethin’ to keep myself occupied while I take this week to recoup. How much leather can y’spare? I’d like to upgrade my armor.”

“Man, me an’ my boys have got better than leather! You should come and see me when you pass the test. I will fix you up.” He sprung up and began digging through the metal shelving that lined the walls of his sprawling corner of the crypt. “What kinda customizing you thinking about in the mean time? Dense plate-layered? Deep-pocketed? Maybe somethin’ pneumatic? I got all kinds of toys. Great stuff to act as a stabilizer layer. A jar a wingnuts, makes great studded armor...”

“I already got all kinds a pockets.” He surreptitiously pulled out several hundred dollar bills where Tom could see the denominations himself, for emphasis. Tom blinked. “You gotta point, though. Mods seem more useful’n addin’ more layers. Got any mods that’d keep my arms an’ legs from... gettin’ broke so easy?”

“--I’ve got just the thing.” He produced a long wooden box after rooting around a bit, dropping it excitedly on the desk. “How does the guts from power armor legs sound? The components are compact enough to incorporate into greaves. This pair just hasn’t gotten used for it yet.”

“It sounds like you’re just about as crazy as I am.” Geek grinned stupidly, eyeing the box and tucking the bills in the bib pocket of Tom’s overalls. “Mmh. Can I part you with two or three tool aprons, too?”

“Oh man, that’s the kinda leather y’wanted? You really are a pocket fiend.”

The two went back and forth spitballing concepts for a while, but Hancock came up to interrupt, arms full of Geek’s things.

“How long am I supposed to sit over here with your purse while you chat up this mad scientist in your underwear?”

Geek took them from him apologetically.

“We can continue this in a week,” Tom insisted, understanding Hancock wanted to leave. He shooed off the two of them pleasantly. “I’ll be schemin’ up something special for ya. Have fun on vacay, my friend.”

“I like somebody that’d spoil you.” Hancock chuffed and patted Geek on the back as they let themselves out the back way. Down the stairs, and through the waterlogged, unpaved patch. “I gotta find a way to spoil ya worse, though.”

“And just what exactly do you call what you n’ me did at the quarry?”

Hancock barked and grinned at him.

“The beginnings of a fine friendship.”

Single Mom!AU - Taehyung - “Hey, my apartment is getting renovated and I know we haven’t talked to each other in two years but you’re the only person I can turn to right now…oh hey you have a kid?”

Three weeks.

Three weeks since your last full night of sleep. At this point you had yourself convinced you were going to lose your mind. How did other single mothers do this? How did they not snap and run away? How did they handle motherhood? The bundle in your arms screamed relentlessly as you rocked her softly, singing to her hoping she would calm down soon.

Her dark brown eyes were screwed shut as her little hands waved about frantically, grasping at the air in a craze. She has been going at it for two hours. Her diaper was clean, she was fed, you cradled her, tried laying her down, tried playing with her...you’ve tried everything you could think of but nothing would calm her screams. You were at your wits end.

Being a new mom was tough enough, but being a new mom on your own was a whole other story. Never in your wildest dreams did you think the day would come when you had a child to care for and no one to help out. Her sperm donor had high tailed it when he found out you were pregnant after you two had unprotected sex for the first time in your three year relationship. Apparently that meant nothing to him.

Your parents basically disowned you having a child out of wedlock, something their old traditional values were so against. You had to return to work soon and you didn’t know what you were going to do. You couldn’t afford a nanny and you definitely couldn’t afford to not work. What little savings you had, all went towards your baby.

Your little Ji-ah.

She was so tiny. So innocent. So precious. She didn’t deserve a mother like you. A mother who had no idea what she was doing. A mother on her own. A mother who was silently suffering every day.

Hot tears began to pour down your cheeks, dropping silently onto her soft yellow blanket, patterned with ducks in blue bows. Her hands slowed down a moment as her innocent brown eyes opened, tears suddenly dry, as she looked at you in wonder. Her tiny fists unclenched and reached out for your hand that was settled across her chest from where you attempted to rub it in hopes it would calm her screaming. Her tiny hand wrapped around one of your fingers and her screams went silent.

That made your heart clench tighter and caused more fresh tears to pour from your eyes once again. The sight of your beautiful daughter, three weeks old, comforting you as you cried. It wasn’t long until you were both settled from the crying and both you and Jiah’s eyes drifted closed for the second time that night, sleeping together in the grey plush rocking chair in the corner of the nursery.

•>•>•>•>•>•

A shrill ring brought you back to consciousness around 8am, your silent curses to whoever was ringing this early while Ji-ah was still asleep. You gently laid her in her crib before scurrying out of the nursery towards your room on the opposite side of Ji-ah’s room. Not even bothering to glance at the caller ID you answered.

“Hello?” Your groggy voice sounded loud in the silent room.

“y/n?” Came the reply.

“Yes? Who is this?” Your phone etiquette missing for this conversation.

“Ah, sorry, it’s Taehyung. Kim Taehyung.”

Taehyung...? You hadn’t spoke to him in almost two and a half years. Not since you and Jongdae got together. Your then boyfriend made it very clear that under no circumstances were you to contact Taehyung again because he felt threatened by your relationship with your friend. Taehyung had tried for weeks to contact you but you never responded in fear of your boyfriend finding out. Maybe that should have been your first clue to the relationship you were in was toxic.

“Hello? Are you still there?” His deep voice came through the earpiece shocking you out of your thoughts.

“Eh, yeah. Is uh, ahem, is everything alright?” Your voice was slightly shaking now and you tried your best to calm your nerves.

“Huh? Oh yeah! Everything is ok. I just wanted to call and ask for a small favor?” He continued as if nothing bad went down between the both of you, “my apartment building is getting renovated and I need somewhere to stay for a bit.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “Don’t you have any friends to stay with?” You asked.

“Yeah! That’s why I’m calling you! You’re my only friend around here.” You could hear the smile in his tone and your heart sunk into your stomach.

That was another thing you felt awful for. You drug Taehyung to Seoul from Daegu after high school. Neither of you wanted to leave the other and you wanted to live in the big city, so he complied with your wishes and left everyone and everything behind. For four years you two were everything to one another, only having a handful of friends between the both of you but not really hanging out with them. Jongdae had met you through Taehyung at a work office party. The three of you were pretty close together until the two of you started dating. Jongdae moved higher up at the office and in your life as Taehyung eventually faded from both. You weren’t sure where he’s been working the past year and a half but you heard from some people at the office that he was doing extremely well for himself.

“I-I’m sorry Taehyung. I have a lot on my plate right now and being here wouldn’t exactly be easy for you..” you started before he cut in.

“Are you still with Jongdae? Is this about him? I promise I’ll keep to myself. I work a lot anyhow.” He hurried his explanation.

“No we aren’t together, we haven't been for 9 months..that’s not the point. The point is that I just don’t think it will be a good fit for you here.”

“Y/N please. I have nowhere else to go. My work is here and I can’t go back home because of it. I know things got really weird for a while and I’m not mad about it or upset, I just really need somewhere to stay. Please.”  Your heart clenched at his words. How could you refuse him after all you’ve dragged him through?

"Taehyung..." you started again to be cut off - again.

"I can pay if me being there makes your bills higher. I will compensate you for it. You don't even have to feed me. I can buy my own food. It will be like I'm not even there. Are you still working at the floral shop? I can drop by this afternoon and maybe talking face to face would be better?" his voice was pleading and you didn't want to tell him no, but you also couldn't say yes. What were you to do?

You stayed silent a moment longer before sucking in a deep breath and steeling your nerves, "That's fine. Just, uh, I'm on a sort of vacation right now so you can just stop by the apartment. I moved by the way..I will text you my new address." the end of your sentence ending up as a mumble.

"Thank you! Thank you! You are such a life saver! I have some free time right now so I will head over!" excited was an understatement for how he sounded and a part of you felt good, but you weren't sure how he would react to how things have turned out.

After a quick goodbye, you sent him your current address and quickly went to go take a shower after a promise to be there in 45 minutes from Taehyung. The hot shower did nothing to help calm your nerves. You haven't seen his face in so long. Memories of a boxy smile, golden brown hair, and loving tight hugs flow through your mind.  Taehyung had been your rock through everything. Countless boyfriends, countless late night breakdowns. Don't even get you started on how many times he picked your sorry ass up from a bar after a night out drinking alone. At one point you were in love with the boy, head over heels. You buried your feelings in other men who came to realize the fact that it was Taehyung you wanted and not them.

Why you never told him of your feelings, you will never know. Maybe a deep soul search is something you needed. Before you reazlied it, the water was running cold in the shower, indicating you had been in there way too long. You quickly went through your routine of drying your hair and putting it up into a pony tail and pulling on a pair of black gym shorts and an old loose fitting shirt. You still weren't feeling your best after having Ji-ah. During your 24 hour labor, she decided to breech and an emergency c-section went into play. Your stomach tendons were extremely tender still but at least you were able to get up and move around with minimal to no pain. It had been the scariest moment of your life, but definitely well worth it.

You peeked your head into the nursery, your little pink bundle was still soundly sleeping, shutting the door softly when you heard a knock on the front door. You tiptoed as quietly from her room as possible, hoping Taehyung wouldn't knock again before you could get to it just in case it woke up the sleeping baby. With a shaking hand you reached out and unlocked the deadbolt before twisting the handle and pulling open the heavy metal door. You weren't prepared for what awaited you behind that door, the breath being knocked out from your lungs.

Taehyung had definitely gotten taller, and his complextion darker than you last remember it to be. His hair was now a golden blonde, pushed up from his head by a bandana. His body was more lean and muscular, made even more obvious by the tight jeans and nice dress shirt he wore. The smile on his face was still the same though, that same smile you had fallen in love with so many years ago.

"Y/N! Wow! Look at you! You look all grown up! I like your hair!" he said reaching out to touch the strands hanging from your hair tie, leaving you statue still as he examined the new light brown color you had dyed it before Ji-ah made her appearance. It was still something you were getting used to as your hair had always been black.

"T-thanks." you stumbled over your words, moving back slowly to allow him entrance into your apartment. His smile never wavered as he stepped through the threshold, examining the apartment with as much interest as he showed in your hair. You let him wander around the apartment for a few minutes while you leaned your back against the wall the lead down the hallway, watching him silently.

Several minutes passed and once he was satisfied with whatever it was he was looking for, he turned to you suddenly, causing you to jump slightly. He let out a low whistle and perched on the arm of the couch, his hands between his thighs as he looked at you.

"How have you been?" he asked gently.

Your head tilted to the side slightly as you pondered his question. "I've been...okay." you said carefully. He just nodded slightly and kept his eyes on your face. "How about you?" you offered.

"I've been great, actually." his tone genuine causing a small smile to appear on your own lips. You were happy or him, truly happy. You wanted nothing but the best for him and god knows he deserved it after everything.

The silence filled the room with a thick atmosphere until Taehyung gently clapped his hands together. "So, have you thought about my proposal?" he asked. You knew it was going to get brought up, it was the whole reason you invited him over. You already knew you were going to say yes, HE knew you were going to say yes, but you liked the formality of him still asking permission and not just assuming.

"There's some things we need to discuss before I say yes." you said slowly.

"Like rent? I can pay for my stay, like I said on the phone." he started.

"No, it's not that it - " your sentence was cut off by a piercing scream coming down the hallway causing Taehyung to jump up from the couch looking startled. You pushed off the wall and walked down the hallway to the nursery, pushing open the door gently you shuffled across the white carpet to the crib.

"Shhh, shhh little one." you cooed as you bent down over the crib, wincing slightly at the muscles in your stomach tightening. "There we are.." you whispered as you held her close to your chest. Her screams quieted and her eyes looked up at you as her little cheeks pulled up into a soft gummy smile. You wrapped her blanket around her and turned to head out the door to return to Taehyung, but he was already there, confusion written all over his face.

"Are you babysitting?" he asked.

"Uh, no. This is uh, this is... She's mine." you stammered. Realization dawned across his face as his mouth hung slightly open, eyes wide. You started to feel uncomfortable and your stomach was whining in protest from standing for so long. Without a word you slipped past Taehyung slowly and headed into the kitchen to drop a premade bottle into the bottle warmer. You could hear Taehyung's steps close behind you so you turned to him with a small smile. "Jongdae left after he found out I was pregnant." was all you offered in explanation.

Taehyung's eyes seemed to narrow just a fraction and his whole demeanor changed slightly, "He left you?" words tense.

You just nodded softly and grabbed the bottle from the warmer after it beeped, alerting you to it. You dribbled a couple of drops on your arm to ensure that it wasn't too hot before allowing Ji-ah to eat her breakfast. "It's okay, I mean I'm okay." you said smiling as you slid onto a kitchen chair.

Taehyung followed suit and pulled his chair right in front of you, his elbows on his knees as he watched your face, looking for any indication that you were lying. You just raised your eyesbrows and questioned him, "Is there something on my face?" you joked, earning a small smile from him.

"What's her name?" he asked peering at the baby in your arms.

"Ji-ah." Taehyung seemed satisfied with that and nodded his head.

"Was this the thing we had to discuss before you said yes?" he pressed on.

You nodded for what felt like the 50th time today already, "Yes. Taehyung, I don't mind if you stay, I really don't...but Ji-ah is a really fussy baby. I don't know what you do for work but I'm sure it requires a lot of rest in between. My life is kind of hectic right now and I don't want you to suffer anymore because of me."

He was quiet for a few minutes, just silently watching Ji-ah eat, his fingers locking together in thought. Neither one of you spoke, the only sounds filling the room was the little grunting noises your daughter made as she hungrily sucked her bottle dry, causing her to start fussing once again.

Sitting her up, you held her as you patted her back gently, coaxing out that burp you knew was causing the fussing. Once you achieved what you wanted, her fussing turned into screaming, causing you to wince slightly as you stood up and walked around with her, trying to soothe her. Long fingers slowly grabbed your shoulder and turned you gently around, Taehyung looking at you with a weird look as he held his hands out slowly.

"Mind if I try?" he asked.

"I don't mind..but I don't know if she will calm down. No one else has held her.  I don't know how she's going to deal with a stranger." you warned.

Not speaking, Taehyung wrapped his hands around her, gently cradling her head as he held her to his chest, whispering gently in her ear, soothing the screams that were coming from her tiny body until she was silent once again. Her little bald head was resting against his shoulder as he cooed to her and played with her hand. The sight caused your heart to clench.

"Are you alright? Why are you crying?" Taehyung asked softly.

"Huh?" you asked dumbly, wiping at the tears in your eyes.

HERE IS A SNIPPET FROM MY SINGLE MOM!AU

STILL UNTITLED

STILL A HUGE WORK IN PROGRESS

BUT LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK WHILE I DO DAMAGE CONTROL TO MY HOUSE 

<3 <3 <3\