#I don’t know if I’m more disgusted horrified or exhausted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adorerdraco · 4 years

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Not My Type (Like You) ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: you should like do a one shot or even another mini series about amortentia/love potions in general. i’d soooo read that

AU SEVENTH YEAR WHERE VOLDY NEVER CAME BACK <3 f**k that mf !

italics are for flashbacks <3 i love them if you couldn’t tell

Warnings: mean!draco, cursing, more mature themes/ideas, little bit of spice towards the end teehee but not too much bc idk how to write smut to save my life

Words: 4.5K

A/N: I saw a tiktok that kinda inspired this and i couldn’t get the idea out of my heaaaad if anyone knows which one im talking ab send it my way so i can show !!!! ALSO I LOVE THIS ONESHOT I LOVE DRACO AND I AM IN MY FEELINGS this might be my new favoriteeeee

Draco Malfoy was insufferable.

The Prince of Slytherin was unbearable for many reasons, things you've been taking notice of since your first year at Hogwarts when you accidentally had the ”pleasure” of interacting with him when he called you stupid in a class for reciting a spell incorrectly. That day, a hostility blossomed. A hostility that ensued nothing but teasing, mocking, and criticizing that would sometimes go too far and you'd both have to be pulled away from each other by your friends’ before either of you said anything excessively harsh that had no return.

You often felt like Malfoy sought you out to bother you and only for that. You could be sitting in the Quad with friends, conversing and laughing like nothing in the world mattered, and a few minutes later you'd be hurling insults towards the blond across the courtyard after he would yell something infuriating to you with that smug smirk on his face and his goons laughing wildly beside him as if he just said the most hilarious thing they've ever heard.

On the days you’d ignore him, not having the patience or the energy to deal with him, he would still somehow find a way to push your buttons. Little things here and there like passing you in the corridors and tugging at the ends of your hair gingerly like a child but enough to tick you off or sending you notes from across the class in the form a small fluttering bird with a lousy drawing of you usually with a message along the lines of, “Y/L/N, hopefully, this note finds itself in the nest of hair you have today xx DM.”

In all honesty, there wasn’t a day you didn’t encounter Draco and it’s been that way for seven long years. Neither of you ever gotten tired of mildly or spitefully bullying each other and neither of you ever dreamed of stopping. He was one of the few constants in your daily life, and you in his. It was like you both lived on annoying the other, and in the midst of all the chaos that you brought to one another; there was a small, teeny, tiny acquaintance - not that either of you would ever admit it. You may have noticed it the time you bet each other ten galleons for who would win in the Triwizard Tournament your fourth year and he bet on Viktor Krum while you on Cedric Diggory. (he’s very much alive i refuse to think otherwise.)

“So you’re telling me, your mother is the reason why you’re not at Durmstrang,” you scoffed. “This whole time I could have been saved four years of headaches.”

“You’re just jealous some of us have more opportunities than others,” he snarks back pompously. “Unlike you, I hardly believe you would be graceful enough to even be considered admission into Beauxbatons.”

You had gone to see the last task of the competition just like the rest of the schools, all packed tightly onto the stands and watching carefully the exit of the maze. Naturally, you had arrived with your own friend groups, but somewhere during the time of sitting there and even being a few rows behind the blond and his minions, the two of you had met in the middle bench after he was trying to prove something wrong to you.

When Cedric appeared back in front of the stands with the glowing Triwizard cup held high over his head in victory and every Hogwarts student loudly celebrating, you had jumped up from your seat and shook wildly an irked Draco beside you. He roughly shrugged your hands off his stiff shoulder, looking up at you with a sneer that you met with a bright beaming smile.

“Pay up, Malfoy!” You held out your hand towards him, opening and closing your fingers to receive the bet money. “I believe it was ten galleons you owe me.”

He begrudgingly reached into his coat pocket and fished out the coins, counting them defeatedly before tossing them into your palm. “What a waste of galleons.”

“Hey, you made the bet,” you reminded him with a still very bright smile. You shoved the money into your pockets, keeping one of the gold coins in between your fingers, and gave him a small hair ruffle that he harshly recoiled from before you turned to jump back up towards the level of stands your friends were originally sitting at.

“Were you really sitting with Malfoy this whole time?” One of your friends questioned when you reached them, a goading smirk on his face.

“Ooooh, she definitely was,” another friend piped up, wiggling her eyebrows. “They’re obsessed with each other.”

“Shut up,” you smack her arm casually, showing the pair the one gold galleon you were holding. “We are not. I was only sitting with him to get my bet money.”

“Sure,” they drawled in unison, sniggering when you threw your head back in annoyance.

You looked down the rows to see the mop of white hair you just sent into disarray. He was slowly descending the stairs of the stands with Crabbe and Goyle following closely behind him. Almost as if he felt your eyes on his back, he turned back to look at you, his cold gray eyes gazing into yours. It was like everything around you went quiet, the only thing in your focus was him and all you could do was stare back. It wasn’t until your friends started stifling laughter and whispering “aww’s” that you snapped out of the short-lived and odd few second trance you were in. He waited for you to do something before he turned back around, and you did - by holding up both hands; the one golden galleon on your left and your middle finger on your right, grinning to yourself when he rolled his eyes throwing you the finger right back before he finally disappeared into the mob of people below.

You were briskly walking down the corridors, books held tightly to your chest with your friend at your side while you made your way to Advanced Potions with Slughorn after Snape finally made his way into the DADA position. It was an easy class, potions being something you had a knack for and it gave you enough leisure to mess with your “favorite” Slytherin who shared it with you.

“Look there goes your boyfriend,” your friend teases, elbowing your upper arm roughly and nodding her head down towards the hall to the tall blond appearing around the corner and entering swiftly into the class.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you hiss. “I’m tired of everyone saying that. I hate him and he hates me, end of story.”

“You know when you say you hate him, it just sounds like the opposite,” she says tauntingly. “Besides, hate is a strong word and very misplaced. Maybe, it’s just years of built-up tension that both of you have been too nervous to do anything about.”

“Tension? Yeah, I want to strangle him,” you laugh to yourself at the thought.

“Not that tension, idiot,” she shakes her head, “I mean sexual tension...clearly.”

You gave her a horrified look mixed between being disgusted and being offended. You held your hand over your mouth and pretended to gag as dramatically as you could. “I am appalled that you would even say that. I would rather be locked in a room with Filch and Peeves and hear them argue and fight all day than to be with Malfoy like that.”

“Come on, think about it,” she encourages, stopping the two of you a little ways away from the classroom. “You guys 'hate' each other?” She finger quotes the hate, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “When you hate someone, you don’t go out of your way to talk to them every day.”

“It’s not like that,” you wave a hand dismissively. “Also, this isn’t a cliche, this is real life. We hate each other, that is all there is to it.”

You picked up the walk again, your friend to following behind you while letting out a deep and exhausted sigh. You couldn’t help but think about what she said, sure, perhaps at one point you thought Draco was attractive with his bright silver hair, his glittering gray eyes, his little button nose that he would crinkle up every other word he spoke in his charming haughty voice, or the way he’d tower over you in the middle of a conversation gone wrong and he’d be talking lowly to you but all you’d be able to focus on was the sweet scent of apples and cologne that radiated off of him.

“No,” you whispered almost silently to yourself, forcing yourself out of your thoughts and shaking your head from side to side as if it was going to get the image out of your head. He was mean, disrespectful, arrogant, and insulted you daily - even if you both laughed about it or gave props for the perfect jabs.

The first thing your eyes landed on when you walked into the dingy Potions classroom was Draco, his focus trained on the ceiling as if he was deep in thought. Just as his eyes were about to flicker down towards you, and sensing that he was about to, you quickly avoided his gaze and concentrated onto Slughorn who was waiting patiently by his desk with a bubbling cauldron for you and your friend to join the crowd in front of him.

“Great! Now that we’re all here,” Slughorn began excitedly, fixing the sleeves of his robes as he grabbed the ladle in the cauldron and began stirring it while continuing his lecture.

You were trying to listen, capturing only the professor’s last sentence as he called on someone who raised their hand. All attention was thrown out the window when you realized Draco was standing near said classmate, a look of annoyance suddenly clouding his features when his pale eyes met yours.

“What?” He mouthed. You ignored him, trying to turn your concentration back onto Slughorn but nothing he was saying made sense, and right as you caught a word you did understand, a shuffling and an abrupt arm knocking into yours threw you right back out of the loop.

“Watch it,” you snap hushedly when you notice who it is. “Why are you over here?”

“I can’t say hello to my number one fan?” He whispers back, snickering slightly when you scoffed quietly.

“Fan? Says the one who shoved his way through the crowd to come over here,” you grumble, crossing your arms.

“I hardly shoved,” he mutters. “I only moved because I couldn’t see Slughorn from where I was standing. Not everything’s about you.”

“Really? Because to me, it seemed like you came over here for my attention.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, a patronizing smile making its way onto his face. The type of typical boy smile where his mouth is half agape with his tongue smoothing over his teeth as he stared off across the room with his fingertips rubbing thoughtfully against his jawline as he thought of what to say. You stood still as he bent down, nearing his mouth towards your ear and whispering hotly, “you wish, darling.”

Slughorn sent everyone to their paired tables, and as everyone began moving and Draco sauntered off away from you, you stood stuck there, shocked with the lingering chills that were sent down your spine from your archnemesis’ comment.

“I told you, you’re into each other,” your friend sang expectantly from behind you, grabbing onto your sleeve and directing the two of you towards your table.

You were working peacefully at your workspace, cutting up, peeling, and crushing the ingredients that your friend was sliding across the surface to you. In the table behind you was where Draco was working annoyingly quiet, tossing the stripped stems of the roses at you that you had to peel, tiny thorns pricking at your ankles through your socks since the bigger thorns had been taken off for the potion. As payback, you would throw back loose extra pearl dust you ground up, giggling tauntingly when he would frown at you for getting the coarse white powder all over his Italian leather shoes and most definitely inside of them as well.

When you, and seemingly the rest of the class, had finally thrown in all the ingredients and the potion promptly finished brewing, beautiful clouds of white and pink smoke began rising from the cauldrons, each one having a lovely scent of first; freshly pressed high-priced linens, then a faint smell of a brand new racing broom out of a box with a freshly polished wood handle that then quickly transformed into a sweet harvest of apples, green specifically, and finally...

“Ugh, gross,” you pinched your nostrils closed, turning your body around and sending a scowl towards Draco’s way. “Malfoy, we get it, your cologne is expensive, now stop spraying it. I was smelling all these wonderful things and you ruined it.”

He arched an eyebrow at you, looking at you as if you were crazy. “Are you mad? I didn’t spray anything, I think you’ve finally lost it.”

“Well you laid it on too heavy this morning then, it reeks in here.”

“You’re one to talk, Y/L/N. Did you bathe yourself in that dreadful perfume you wear just now? And that ghastly lip shiner thing you use,” He sneers, crinkling up his nose. “I can’t even think straight, I might vomit.”

“Lip shiner? It’s called lip balm, you prat,” you retort, crossing your arms angrily. “Either way, I haven’t used or sprayed anything either so-”

“For Merlin’s sake!” Your friend suddenly exasperated loudly from beside you making you briskly whirl around to look at her, a look of pure annoyance etched onto her face. “Are you two really that daft? Honestly? Have you been paying attention to anything other than each other? For instance, the potion we just made?”

This gained the attention of your classmates around you in the surrounding tables, turning their heads slightly but not obviously with small knowing smirks on their faces while they snickered quietly and listened. It was soundless as you reached towards the book in front of your friend, pulling it painstakingly slow towards you in fear of the words that were written on the open page.

“Amortentia,” you muttered glumly as you read the page, pushing it away from you dejectedly as everything began to click.

“The reason you’re both smelling each other is because you’re what the other desires and is attracted to. Wow, what a revelation! As if the whole school didn’t already know.”

You were afraid to turn around. You could feel the cold and hard pair of eyes burning holes onto your back and the immediate amount of whispers and giggles of the people around you. Luckily, Slughorn was busy at the other end of the room, working diligently with another pair of students who managed to mess up their potion.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Draco announces finally.

“What’s so ridiculous about it?” You questioned, your heart falling to the pit of your stomach when you turned again and took notice of the way his lips were curling upwards as if it was the most disgusting thing he could have ever heard.

“Think about it, Y/L/N,” he deadpans. “Why would I ever desire someone like you?”

There had been occasions over the years when you were in this situation. None as drastic and as revealing, but there would be times when friends and others would poke fun and say the exact same thing your friend told you earlier. The usual, “they got the hots for each other!” and you would always brush it off and joke about how you could never, and he’d do the same. It was always amongst laughs and jokes, but as you looked at the Slytherin in front of you - there wasn’t a hint of amusement on his hardened face.

“Piss off, Malfoy,” you seethed, biting down hard on your lip to refrain from lashing out either in tears or in insults, you couldn’t decide. “If I’m so revolting, leave me alone from now on, I mean it.”

“I never said that,” he argues. “You’re just simply not my type.”

For some eerie, awful reason, the words tore into you like a sharpened knife going easily through butter. You were used to his insults, his mocking, his comments about your appearances - but this hurt, and you couldn’t explain why. You thought, for a second, possibly, that maybe your friend was right. Maybe there was a hidden attraction you had for the platinum blond that you buried deep away and one that he had for you. There was no way that was the case now, not at all.

And for the first time in your life, you couldn’t be more sure of a simple little fact.

You hated him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You don’t know how long you spent sitting in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, back against the cold tiled wall with your knees brought up to your chest. Your friends had tried to console you after the public rejection and humiliation, but their words only made you feel worse. You felt silly for being so bothered about being rejected by Malfoy, he wasn’t exactly someone you fancied, to begin with.

After dinner, you went off the grid and found yourself where you’re now sitting. The ghostly girl flew restlessly around you, popping out of her stall now and then to chat but then going back into her abyss of nothing when she learned you were still upset. You noticed it made her a little too pleased, considering the fact it was always her who was miserably wailing about her problems in the bathroom. She tried to hide it and let you talk to her about how you felt, but she gave terrible advice most of the time.

“Well, if it was me, I would have never started fancying someone who was mean to me,” she mumbled. “Like when Paul Wighorn made fun of my hair for a whole year and laughed when I cried. I hated his guts then and I still do now.”

She had a point, but she was also Myrtle. Nothing about the overly dramatic ghost made sense.

“I don’t fancy him, It’s just weird,” you trail off. “I can’t imagine a day without him, even if he is a complete arse. We always joked about how we hated each other, but I didn’t think he actually meant it, I guess.”

“I think you do fancy him, though,” she whispers knowingly in your ear, making you flinch from her cold draft. “Stop denying it, it’ll only keep making you feel worse. Amortentia doesn’t lie, silly. Maybe when you drink it, but before that, all real feelings are there, whether you know it or not.”

You sat quietly, taking in her words before something came crashing down onto you like a wall of bricks.

“I suppose that means he’ll have to stop denying it too,” she adds thoughtfully.

“Myrtle,” you rush to get up, smoothing your hair down profusely and fixing the wrinkles in your clothes. “You’re a genius.”

“I am?” She asks excitedly. “What did I say?”

You waved her off, giving her another thank you before rushing out of the bathroom and into the empty corridors. You were trying to go back to your dorm to sleep, hoping that when tomorrow came you would be bold enough to confront the Slytherin Prince but it was thirty minutes past curfew, something you didn’t notice until you were bustling down the steps in a rush and came face to face with the man of the hour himself doing his Prefect patrolling duties.

“Go to your dorm, Y/L/N,” he sneers. “I’ll take away house points, don’t test me,”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That I’ll take away house points? Watch me. Five-”

“No, you twat,” you groan, swatting his arm with your hand. “I don’t believe that I’m not your type.”

He stayed wordless for a moment, biting the inside of his cheeks and clenching his jaw as he peered down at you from his lanky height. “Why not?”

“Because I didn’t think you were my type until the amortentia made me aware of it,” you answer quietly. “Actually, my friend had a hand in it, but it was mostly the potion.”

Silence, again. Still and deadly. You could hear the large clocks around the school tick and tock, the hundreds of paintings snoring peacefully or chattering quietly. You avoided looking up at the boy in front of you, all of a sudden feeling small under his gaze until you felt cold fingers brush against your cheekbone and then softly through your hair causing you to finally look up into the soft wandering almost blue eyes.

“I didn’t find out with the amortentia,” he muttered almost reluctantly as if it was the most difficult thing he had to reveal. “I’ve known I’ve liked you for a while.”

“How long is a while?” You curiously wonder aloud.

“I’m not telling,” he smirks. “Perhaps you’ll figure it out one day.”

Both hands came up to rest on your cheeks, slightly cold but soft and tender. It sent chills throughout your body as he took a step closer to you and then closer, backing you carefully into the diagonally ascending stone wall that went in the direction of the stairs. Your breathing was getting uneven, you noticed the way you accidentally switched to manually forcing yourself to inhale and exhale normally when he leaned down with his face now being mere centimeters from yours. It was torture, having your eyes closed and feeling the way his nose was brushing against yours, minty breath warm against your lips as he ghosted over them with his. He was so close, you smelt everything that was in the damn potion that got you here. It sent flutters of warmth down your body, trickling down and seeping deeply into every bone in your body as if this is was the remedy its been needing. This is what you’ve been missing.

When you finally felt a soft pair of lips being pressed into yours, it felt almost unreal that you were there. It was awkward the first couple of seconds, both of you wondering how in the world had you gotten yourselves in this position, but after you relaxed and he found his Prince of Slytherin confidence - it was magic. His lips moved languidly against yours, affectionately and full of longing. He kept his hands on your cheeks, still timid to move anywhere else while you kept yours resting lightly on his sides. It scared you a little, how fast and how easily you melted into each other, like if this was something you’ve been doing with him for years rather than torment the other for laughs.

You hated the feeling when he pulled away, a gust of freezing castle air passing through the space between you and cooling your lips and face from his contact. His hands dropped down to his sides and he looked down at you with a small smile, a teeny bit smug, but happy. You wanted to feel the same way, but a question still loomed over your head, overpowering the giddiness you were vividly feeling.

“Why did you lie earlier?” You question softly, directing your gaze to the floor. “In class, I mean.”

He thought about his answer for a second, sighing deeply when he realized he had to uncover more truths about himself to you. You took a mental observation at that, he didn’t like to talk about feelings. “You didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at me. I thought I’d beat you to it and reject you before you could reject me.”

“What made you think I’d reject you?” You coaxed. “Other than the fact that I made you a sworn enemy at eleven.”

“Exactly that,” he laughed lightly. “You’re unpredictable, Y/N.”

You smiled to yourself at the realization that he finally used your first name. “So are you, Draco.”

“Not really,” he grins. “Like in just a few moments, for example, I’m going to start snogging you.”

You opened your mouth to encourage him but shut it quickly when he closed the space between the two of you again, this time much closer than he was before. He was flush against you, and when you say you could feel everything; you could feel everything. You were almost begging for him to lean down and kiss you again by the time you felt his hands on you again, running delicately around the exposed skin of your hips when your shirt hiked up an inch on accident. He leaned down again, and with the advantage of his lowered height, you let your hands slide up his arms, biceps, and ultimately the nape of his neck where your fingers continued up into his hair. The breathiest gasp escaped his throat as you tugged at the ends gently, smirking to yourself when he closed his eyes in delight at the touch.

His lips came down onto your fast this time and hastily, pressing himself impossibly closer into you. You could feel his grip tighten against your hips, his hold moving upwards onto your waist as he continued to kiss you fervently. His teeth bit down softly on your bottom lip and you wasted no time in parting them slightly for his tongue to meet yours. You tugged at the platinum strands of hair again, feeling triumphant when a low groaning sound emitted from his throat at the sensation as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss further.

You knew you were done for when one of his hands slowly slid up your upper body, stopping first at your collarbones with warm fingertips fluttering over the skin, before he moved it upwards completely and he now had his large hand wrapped comfortably around your neck. You gasped in delight into the kiss, a swarm of butterflies going directly to your lower stomach as he squeezed against the artery in your neck meticulously, the coldness from his Malfoy family crest ring only adding fuel to the fire. He tore his mouth away from yours with his hand still clutched firmly around your throat and you were almost sent into orbit with the look he was giving you. A look filled with desire, adoration, and intensity - his pale gray eyes were much darker, almost a dark blue that resembled the starry night sky on a summer night.

Lips reattached themselves roughly and feverishly against your jawline, peppering long and tender kisses all the way towards your ear and then down towards your collarbones where he was beginning to undo the rest of the top buttons of your school dress shirt. You felt him smile against your hot skin when you’d writhe underneath him, emitting weak whimpers that you couldn’t hold back that he ended up having to clasp a free hand over your mouth as he whispered into your ear to stay quiet.

It didn’t matter that you were in the middle of a poorly lit corridor where anyone could walk past and see the frenzy that was unfolding, nor did it matter to Draco that his Prefect duties were long forgotten. Your friend was right, and everyone else for that matter; it wasn’t hate you felt for the blond at all, it was years and years of a craving and a hidden yearning packed with displaced tension.

And now, you were both exactly where you wanted to be; together.

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you-are-my-joy · 3 years

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The Return of an Empress | 07

Title: The Return of an Empress

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Isekai, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Smut (Later on), Slow burn

Characters: Empress!Reader, Advisor!Jin, Advisor!Yoongi, General!Hoseok, Advisor!Namjoon, Assassin!Jimin, Knight!Taehyung, Knight!Jungkook

Word count: ~9k

Summary: After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive.

Warning: May contain depictions of violence and mentions of abuse throughout the story.

Masterlist

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In the 380th imperial year, on June 9th, two days after the nobles were caught red-handed and thus apprehended, was the day of the largest massacre of high nobility in the history of the empire.

At 8 am in the morning, a total of 18 of some of the most well-known and influential nobles of the empire were executed by the city plaza.

With tired steps, you trudge inside your bedroom, immediately falling onto the comfort of your bed. You let out an exasperated sigh, tossing your head back until it rests on a nearby pillow. Despite getting rid of the duke and the rest of the nobles, you can’t help but still feel a sense of unease and tension. Would the original empress make the same decision? You don’t know the answer, but what you do know, is that you’ll most likely be haunted by the cries and screams of those who lost their lives today for the rest of your life.

It’s one thing to actually read of the graphic murders and deaths that occurred in the novel, it’s a whole different story when you actually experience and see first hand how gruesome the public executions truly were. Back in your world, you’ve never witnessed anyone’s death before, as it was the 21st century, public executions were prohibited decades ago. But suddenly you had to endure an entire morning witnessing the horrifying deaths of 18 people as their heads detached from their body, a large pool of blood staining the once clean pavement.

You weren’t keen on torturing people, so you were merciful in the sense that you chose to execute them through a beheading, with a fresh and sharpened axe to be exact. In this world, beheadings, although gruesome and bloody, were seen as the most ‘humane’ form of execution as the deed would be done in one swift motion, a painless execution to some extent.

You remember hearing many of the nobles and commoners who attended the public executions express their disappointment at your choice, thinking you were being much too kind considering the heinous crime they committed. Despite their disappointment, they were slightly relieved over your choice, many were still skeptical over the empress’s supposed changed behavior, but seeing you wince and grimace at each beheading finally convinced them otherwise.

News spread like wildfire around the empire about what had occurred at the party, news articles being published nearly a day later. The most popular topic of course being the Grand Duke himself drugging the empress, and so countless of nobles all around the empire scurried to watch the spectacle. Thus, the grand finale of the execution came when former Grand Duke, Lee Joong-Gu finally stepped forward.

Many people had looked at him in disgust, throwing rotten fruits and vegetables his way and cursed out his name. The entire time, he wore a solemn expression as he kneels down without complaint unlike the rest of the criminals who wailed pathetically until their last breath.

You remember that in the midst of it all, he had looked up at you, your eyes instantly locking with one another, and you swear from where you stood, you saw a hint of remorse and guilt in his face. Your mind reeling as he tearfully mouths ‘I’m sorry’ to you, but before you could even react any further, the axe gets raised in the air and in the next second is swung down with much force. His head rolling down the pavement as the cheers of the crowd rang out excitedly at the gruesome sight.

However, the cheers seem to fade from your ears as all you can focus on is the dukes rolling head. And somehow it stops, facing in your direction, empty eyes that were once so full of life, ingraining themselves in your memory forever. You blink away the tears forming in your eyes, confused as to why your body was reacting like this. You flinch as you stare at his body slumped over, but your view gets blocked when Jungkook steps in front of you.

The entire morning, Jungkook and Taehyung have been right beside you, acting as your escorts as you had requested. Always attempting to block your view when they noticed your grim and disgusted expressions at each beheading. Jin and Namjoon were also present, but they stood a few meters away from you, ensuring that the executions ran as quickly and smoothly as possible. Hoseok was present as well, but as the general, he was in charge of security and surveying the city plaza, prioritizing your safety over everything else.

The only ones who hadn’t shown up were Yoongi and Jimin. Yoongi, you had expected, though you had a glimmer of hope that he would make an appearance, but Jimin? You thought he would come to greet you after the party, but you haven’t seen him since he left you by the ballroom doors. You were extremely worried, thinking something bad had happened to him, but Namjoon reassured you that he was fine as he had ran into him the other day. He further informs you that Jimin wasn’t feeling good, which explains his sudden absence. Though you remained unconvinced, you choose to give Jimin his needed space, thinking it would be better for him to come to you when he was ready.

When the executions were over you stood up from your seat, ready to leave the area in a hurry as the overwhelming stench of blood nearly made you puke on the spot. But suddenly you heard loud cheers as everyone directed their attention to you, “All Hail Empress Y/n!” many of them yelled out, grinning at you as they praised your actions.

You hadn’t expected to be well received so quickly, since less than a week ago, some of these same people trembled in fear over your presence. You send them a charming smile to express your gratitude, but this only seemed to ignite something in them as they seemingly cheered your name even more.

Despite the cheering, all you wanted to do was go back to the palace and rest. So here you are, groaning as you lay flat on the spacious bed. You feel the bed dip slightly to your left, prompting you to open your eyes to see Jungkook looking down at you with a small smile. “How are you feeling?” he reaches his hand out to gently brush a strand of hair in front of your face.

“Absolutely exhausted,” you let out a groan, closing your eyes once more. And you weren’t only talking about the past few days. It seemed that you were never truly able to catch a break the moment you arrived in this world. You can’t even imagine the amount of work the past empress had to endure.

Taehyung, having found comfort in your couch situated in the middle of your grand bedroom, hums at that, “Mentally or physically exhausted?”

You scoff before letting out a yawn, “Both.”

Jungkook nods as he moves his hand away from your face to lazily trace shapes on the palm of your hand, “I'm sorry to hear that your majesty,” he replies, sending you a pitiful look, as he notices traces of stress and exhaustion written on your face.

Still with your eyes closed, you rest for a moment, “It’s fine. This is my duty as the empress.”

Jungkook nods, “I understand, but before you’re an empress, you’re a human. You need to rest, your majesty,” he says, concern laced in his voice as he continues tracing odd shapes on your palm.

Though after a while, you’ve come to the realization that rather than shapes, he was actually tracing your name on your skin.

You open your eyes to stare at Jungkook who was too distracted writing your name to pay attention to your gaze. You just stare when a sudden thought crosses your mind, “Hey Jungkook, can you try calling me by my name?”

Jungkook seems to freeze in his spot, his hand stopping right above yours as he stares at you with wide eyes, “Pardon?” this seems to gain Taehyung's attention as well when you see him from the corner of your eye snap his head instantly in your direction.

You shrug, sitting straight up now facing him. Both your faces nearly inches apart that Jungkook instantly blushes and shifts a bit further away from you to calm his racing heart, though you take that gesture as discomfort instead, “What’s wrong? You don’t want to?”

Jungkook stutters as he waves his arms in front of his face in an ‘X’ shape motion, “N-No, It’s not that I don't want to… but why are you suddenly asking that of me?” Both Jungkook and Taehyung stare at you in a mixture of confusion and interest since they haven’t addressed the empress by her name in nearly 3 years. Not after she had scolded the both of them until they complied to her wishes.

“I figured we might as well go back to our old ways you know?” you suggest, but after taking in their shocked reactions you quickly add, “Of course if you’re uncomfortable with my request then I don’t want to force you to do anything. But I do give you permission to call me by my name when it’s just us.”

Jungkook turns his head to Taehyung as they look at each other wearily, as if doubting your words and thinking this was all just one big test. He hesitantly turns back to you, “Is that truly alright?” he asks while fidgeting nervously with his hand.

“Of course it is,” you smile reassuringly, your eyes staring at him in anticipation, “will you?” You ask, you try to hide your excitement in order to not pressure him, but who were you kidding, it’s practically written on your face.

Jungkook’s lips curve upward slightly as he couldn’t deny your request, especially when your golden eyes shined brightly at him, “Yes…. Y/n…” though he had said it in a shy whisper, you still heard him loud and clear. You didn’t think hearing your name come out of his mouth would affect you so much but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling widely. It’s times like these that you’re extremely grateful for sharing the same name as the old empress.

“Woah that’s not fair,” you turn your head to find Taehyung with his arms crossed, playfully glaring at you both, “why does he get special treatment and I don't?”

You chuckle as Taehyung's pout reminds you of a child who got their toy taken away and wants it back. Your amusement grows even more as you sit back and watch Jungkook be equally as childish when he sticks his tongue out at the older knight. And Taehyung, the ever mature knight, mimics his actions in return.

You grin at the older knight, wanting nothing more than to ruffle his hair, “this applies to you as well Taehyung.”

Taehyung finally turns to you after seemingly having a contest with Jungkook on who can contort their face in a mocking way better, “thank you… Y/n,” he replies softly with a gentle smile now on his face.

They’ll admit, addressing you by your name sounded strange coming out their mouth, but they couldn’t deny the nostalgic and warm feeling in their chest when they finally did. And your smile definitely brightened their day even more.

“Y/n.” you hear Jungkook call out softly, though he flinches when he gains your attention.

You furrow your eyes in confusion at his odd reaction, “Yes?”

You notice his cheeks glow with a tint of red, “Sorry, it’s nothing. I just wanted to say your name in front of you,” the ending of his sentence becoming a soft whisper as he was embarrassed to have been caught by you. But he should’ve known better than to believe your ears wouldn’t catch him.

You have to mentally slap yourself to stay calm and composed as to not squeal in delight to embarrass him further. So to spare him, you fight back a giggle as you beam back at him, “you’re more than welcome to call me by my name anytime you want Jungkook.” Gaining a wide smile from him in return.

“Y/n?” Taehyung suddenly calls out, causing you to face him now. Though he chuckles at your raised brow, “I’m not just calling out your name, I genuinely have a question.” You chuckle right back, nodding your head, gesturing to him to ask his question. “Are you still feeling sick?” You understand he wasn’t referring to earlier, rather he was talking about your symptoms from withdrawal.

Thankfully after properly taking medication daily or as suggested by the royal physician, you’ve been experiencing a lot less symptoms as the days go by. Joy reminding and ensuring that you actually took them definitely helped with the process.

You nod sending him a soft smile, “no, I’ve been feeling a lot better nowadays. Though, I’ll admit I kind of want to throw up. But I’m pretty sure the main perpetrator to that is the blood.” Despite having left the plaza awhile ago, you seemingly couldn’t get rid of the stench of blood in your nose. Even just the thought of it makes you involuntarily gag.

Jungkook softly chuckles, “from being in countless battles, you’d think you’d get used to the sight of blood,” he jokes with a teasing glint in his eyes as he grew bold enough to hold your hand after tracing on it for so long.

You stare down at your joined hands, his large ones nearly covering yours completely. You feel him squeeze your hand lightly prompting you to look up at his mischievous grin as he caught you staring. You playfully roll your eyes, “it’s been awhile, alright, I forgot,” you grumble.

Though Taehyung hums at that as leans his head back on the soft cushions of the couch, “you seem to be using that excuse quite often,” he mutters, not looking you in the eye, but instead choosing to stare out your window.

At his statement, you gulp nervously. You immediately take note from the corner of your eyes the prying look of Jungkook as his hold on your hand seems to tighten.

But before you could come up with yet another excuse, you hear a knock at your door. Someone was definitely looking out for you as you had no idea how to respond without you being even more suspicious than before.

You sit up straight, briefly glancing at your knights who refuse to look you in the eye before calling out, “come in.” You quickly let go of Jungkook’s hand causing the boy to snap his head in your direction before his shoulders seemingly drop. Though he doesn’t say anything more as the doors to your bedroom open wide.

Soon enough, the double doors reveal Hoseok, Namjoon and Jin. They bow out of respect before briefly making eye contact with Jungkook and Taehyung, to which they send a curt nod, acknowledging each other’s presence.

For some reason, you felt a shift in the air as the three men stepped into the room. As if they were... hostile? But that doesn’t make sense, you question. Shouldn't they be on good terms with each other? You thought, but you were so wrong when you could feel the tension around you. Something unspoken between the five males.

You understand that you haven’t known these men for long, but even you could tell that there was a sudden shift in their relationship. You saw it in the ballroom and now your suspicions are confirmed when you observe their body language in front of you.

After many moments of silence, Namjoon finally turns his attention to you, “more of those journalists keep requesting for your time your majesty,” he reports, only now do you notice his tired eyes. He must’ve been dealing with those journalists since he got back, and from what you know, they’re almost as ruthless as those in high society.

But before you could respond, you hear Taehyung let out an annoyed groan from where he sat, “They bombarded her all throughout the morning, can’t they give her a break?” he scowls when turning his head out the window as he caught a glimpse of those pesky reporters from the border of the palace walls. Their cameras steadily aimed at the palace, hoping to capture a lucky shot of the empress.

“It’s alright, I can handle them,” you reply, having already mentally and physically prepared yourself for this since you knew this would be a hot topic in the empire. A topic that the reporters wouldn’t let go of until they were satisfied. But just as you were about to stand from the comfort of your bed, you feel a hand gently rest on your shoulder, prompting you to turn and find Jungkook staring at you in concern.

“Y/n, you need to rest,” Jungkook says softly, “you truly did look sick early, maybe it's from withdrawals or maybe it's from the blood, who knows, but I think it’s best you rest for the day.” You knew it would be hard to go against Jungkook, especially when he had that determined look in his eyes. Though that wasn’t what everyone else was thinking as his statement piqued their interest.

“Y/n?” Jin questions loudly. He had thought he was hearing things, but by the looks on Namjoons and Hoseok's faces, he indeed did hear correctly. Jungkook had addressed you by your name.

The boy blushes, not having realized he had blurted out your name in front of them. But before he could explain himself, Taehyung beat him to it.

“Y/n gave us permission to call her by her name,” he boasts with his head held high as if he was bragging about some great achievement he got. Which in a way, it kind of was.

Hoseok raises his brow as he turns to look at you now, “may I know why?”

You clear your throat, “well, when I got rid of the alcohol and drugs in my system, I wanted to make things right and go back to how they were before. So I gave them permission to address me by my name like old times,” you reply confidently, having already prepared an answer for this question long ago.

Though after some time, Hoseok’s blank face shifts, “I see,” he replies with a smile, but you knew better than to trust that, you knew hidden in that expression was a man that still had doubts despite witnessing the downfall of the nobles before his own eyes. You had thought Namjoon would be the one you needed to be careful of, but it seems you were wrong in that sense as you become anxious at Hoseok’s judging stare.

Jin clears his throat, an attempt to get rid of the growing tension in the room, “we also came to discuss plans regarding the property of the nobles as well as what's to come with their families and who would be the ones to take their positions,” he pauses before nodding his head in Hoseok’s direction, “we brought along Hoseok in case military services were needed.”

You nod, though you couldn’t help but wonder, “Where’s Yoongi?”

Jin stills for a moment before tilting his head, visibly confused from your question, “why are you suddenly asking for him?”

Now it’s your turn to be confused as you furrow your eyebrows, “Because he’s also one of my advisors,” you answer as if it was obvious.

As if sensing your confusion, Namjoon responds, “pardon our rudeness, your majesty. You just don’t normally call on him for these types of things.”

Now you’re even more confused than before, “I don’t?”

Namjoon nods his head in confirmation, “I believe it’s because he’s not from nobility, that it may hinder and influence his judgment on these types of cases,” he explains in the nicest way possible.

Dumbfounded, you remain seated on your bed, “I see,” is all you could utter. You knew that out of the 8 of you, the only ones who came from nobility were Namjoon, Jin, and Hoseok. Their families were one of the few nobles who secretly opposed the former emperor, which made it easy for the main character to gain their support in the rebellion. There’s no doubt that Hoseok’s military family, Namjoon’s intelligence, and Jin’s abundant wealth, had an immense influence on the success of the rebellion.

Of course that’s not to say that the others are any less important. Jungkook and Taehyung were among the best of the best in terms of strength and fighting, not to mention Jimin being an ace when it came to agility and swiftness. They had the skills to go against opponents 10 times their size, and yet somehow win. The three were known to be the best fighters in the empire, after the empress herself of course. Afterall, they learned everything they knew from her.

Yoongi on the other hand, proved himself to be worthy to stand by the empress’s side as an advisor due to the fact that when it came to forming tactics, he always had the perfect plan to go along with every scenario. Much of the rebellion's success was derived from the various attack plans that Yoongi came up with.

He also knows how to handle her the best out of them all. He knows how to approach her when she gets mad or upset. And he is one of the few people who isn’t afraid to go against her if he needs to, only with her and the empire’s best intentions in his mind.

But when it came to politics, Yoongi had a harder time due to the fact that he was just a village boy who didn’t receive the same amount of education as Namjoon or Jin. Granted neither did Y/n, having been born from the same village, but she was so determined to become the empress that she worked strenuously day in and day out in order to fit the role. Having Namjoon as her teacher definitely helped the process run smoothly.

Sure Yoongi isn’t as book smart as Namjoon, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t smart at all. You know that despite things being said about him, his words and inputs at national council meetings have proven to be of great help to the empress and the empire in the past.

And so without another word, you stand up from your bed with a newfound determination.

Jungkook and Taehyung eye you in concern. “Y/n?” Jungkook asks, reaching out to hold your hand, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“I’m going to go and personally find Yoongi. Regardless of our differences, he’s still my advisor, and his presence is just as important as every single one of you.” You feel Jungkook loosen his grip on you, allowing you to slip away from his grasp.

“Shall we escort you there?” Jungkook asks tentatively, while Taehyung had already stood up, prepared to follow you on your command.

But instead, you shake your head, “Considering what transpired last time, I don’t think it’d be wise to bring either one of you two along,” Jungkook rubs the back of his neck while Taehyung turns away as they’re both suddenly reminded of the way they had behaved towards Yoongi. Although they were opposed to the idea of you going alone, they couldn’t argue with your statement, since even they don’t know how they would react if they were in each other's presence again.

“I’ll accompany her majesty,” Hoseok suddenly speaks up with a raised hand, resulting in everyone turning their heads in his direction, “I think it should only be fair after all,” he pouts, lowering his hand to cross both his arms across his chest.

Namjoon raises a brow at his claim, “Fair?”

Hoseok nods as he accusingly points at every man in the room other than himself, “Every single one of you have spent more time with her than me, that's why I think it’s only fair if I escort her,” he declares with a puff of his chest.

Taehyung scoffs at him, “Can you blame us? We’re her escorts, of course we’re going to spend more time with her,” he fights back a roll of his eyes due to Hoseok being of a higher rank than him.

“Exactly, so I hope you don’t mind me stealing your ‘Y/n’ for the time being,” and before you could even utter a word, Hoseok strides towards you, reaching for your arm and practically begins dragging you out the room, “see you boys later!”

Jin shakes his head disapprovingly as he watches Hoseok roughly pull you, “would you be more careful with her majesty!”

Hoseok scoffs, “She’s not weak,” he responds as he turns around abruptly, your chest nearly colliding with his if it weren’t for his arms steadying you.

“I agree, but she’s also not a ragdoll that you could just push around as you please,” Jin snaps back at him, eyes narrowing at the grip on your arm.

Namjoon nods his head at this, “Indeed. Be more gentle Hoseok,” he warns sternly as he shifts his body towards the both of you intimidatingly.

And you don’t even need to turn around to know Jungkook and Taehyung were both shooting daggers at the general.

Hoseok sighs and finally lets go of you with his arms raised above his head in defeat, “alright alright I get it. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” Though the men in the room only stare at him with unconvinced expressions as he smiles innocently right back.

You stifle a laugh at their reactions and begin to turn to leave, “we’ll be leaving then,” at this you turn to stare at each one of them, “while I’m gone. Behave.”

Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms as he plops back down on your couch, “We’re not children Y/n.” But his pout tells you otherwise.

The corners of your lips quirk upward in amusement, “could’ve fooled me.”

He turns to you with an offended expression, mouth wide open and before he could give you a piece of his mind, you scurry out the door with Hoseok tailing right behind you.

“Y/n!” You hear Taehyung’s voice yells out as he appears by the doorway in a matter of seconds.

You turn around and almost laugh at his dumbfounded expression. Though, you nearly trip over your own two feet if it weren’t for Hoseok skillfully reaching out and steadying you. You quickly thank him before looking back towards your door to now find the rest of the men staring back at you.

“We’ll set up a proper meeting tomorrow! See you boys then!” You call out before you’re reaching for Hoseok’s hand. He widens his eyes for a moment staring down at your joined hands before he feels you pull on him in the direction you were running to.

You could still hear their protests coming from your bedroom as both you and Hoseok run away. But Hoseok can’t help but be more focused on your angelic laughter over everything else.

“So what did the general want to talk to me about so badly that he wanted us to be alone?” you say finally after creating a fair enough distance from your bedroom.

From the corner of your eye, you see him smirk, “What makes her majesty think I had ulterior motives?” he asks innocently, his pace matching with yours as you both walk down the quiet halls.

You shake your head with a smile, “because you’re Hoseok,” you reply with a teasing glint in your eye.

Hoseok lets out an offended noise as he dramatically brings his hand to his chest, “That hurts your majesty,” he pouts, “couldn’t I have just wanted to spend some time with you?”

You laugh at this, “Sure, but you and I both know that that’s not the case,” your mouth forming a smile, an attempt to show him you meant no harm.

Hoseok finally lets the innocent facade fall as a smirk begins to form on his face, “Our empress sure has a sharp mind,” you hum in reply, prompting him to continue speaking, “you’re right, I did want to talk to you.”

Though after some time walking in silence, he speaks up again, “But I had nothing in particular to talk to you about, I just wanted to see for myself whether you had truly changed or not,” he responds bluntly.

“Your verdict?” you question with your arms behind your back, a carefree aura surrounding you.

“Hard to tell for now,” he teases with a wink in your direction, “however, something tells me it won’t be long before I give you my answer your majesty.”

“Well let’s hope it’s an answer we both will like,” a wide optimistic grin now on your face.

Hoseok stares down at you, giving you a small smile in return, “Yes, let’s hope.”

You two don’t speak for a while, though you can’t say it was awkward. There was a comfortable air between the two of you that you actually didn’t mind walking together in silence. You took this moment to look around the scenery, admiring the window view as you don’t really have much time to do that since Taehyung, Jungkook and even Jimin would often preoccupy your attention, not that you were complaining about their company, you rather enjoyed talking to them. But you can’t help but be grateful for this moment to yourself. So for the time being, you just look out the window, little did you know, Hoseok was staring right at you.

Hoseok couldn’t help but admire the way the sunlight glows on your skin as if you were an ethereal being. Even the slight quirk of your lips mesmerizes him as he watches you bask in the sunlight. A picture perfect moment that he desperately tries to ingrain in his mind.

“You know, you’re more than welcome to address me by my name as well Hoseok,” you suddenly speak out, turning your head causing the male to widen his eyes momentarily at your abrupt attention.

But Hoseok’s eyes soften, giving you a small smile before turning his head straight in front of him yet again, “I’ll keep that in mind... thank you.”

Neither of you speak again after that, just enjoying each other's company in silence. And after everything that you’ve been through, you didn’t realize that this was exactly what you needed.

“Hey Yoongs”

The man hums, his eyes closed as he lays comfortably against the grass right beside Y/n.

“You’ll be with me forever right?” the young girl speaks up after some time.

At this, Yoongi opens his eyes as he stares at the far away look in her eyes, “Of course Y/n, where else would I go?” he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “why do you ask?”

She shrugs looking straight up at the passing clouds, “just making sure,” the wind softly breezing against her hair.

Yoongi nervously laughs as he turns away from her, “Sorry, but it’s gonna take a lot more for you to get rid of me,” Y/n chuckles at this causing the corners of his lips to curve upward at the sound. “Unless I got it all wrong. You’re not trying to run away from me once you become empress are you?” he questions with a teasing tone. Though he had a smile on his face, he couldn’t deny the feeling of anxiety at the possibility of her leaving him.

She scoffs before turning away, “Of course not, what would I do without you nagging me all the time, you’re practically my brother at this point.”

Yoongi feels a pang go across his heart as he faces away from her, “... right… you just see me as a brother huh,” he mumbles, more so to himself but she could still slightly hear him.

She tilts her head in his direction, “hm?”

Though he just shakes his head, “Nevermind,” now sporting a more cheerful expression as he nudges her shoulder playfully, “so suddenly I’m your brother huh?”

She nods her head, turning away from him, focusing her attention back to the sky, “Of course you are, what else would you be?” she genuinely asks.

Yoongi stills for a moment before responding with a long sigh, “Nothing,” he pauses, watching the clouds pass by both him and her as they lay on the grass in peace, “absolutely nothing.”

“Her majesty told me about it and left the job to me,” Jin responds in a tired voice as he lets out a sigh. If he had known accepting the empress’s orders would lead to this, he would’ve never done so in the first place. Because not only does he need to deal with a pile of work, but also a very pissed off Yoongi.

“Why would she give you all the work and not me?” Yoongi asks, tone slightly offended and irritated.

“I don’t know Yoongi, why don’t you just ask her yourself,” Jin replies tiredly as he massages his temple at his growing headache. It’s not that he wanted to get rid of Yoongi, but because he himself couldn’t provide him an answer to his question. He too couldn't understand why Y/n would give him all the work instead of him, frankly he wishes she would divide up the work evenly but alas, that doesn’t seem to be the case as every inch of his desk is nearly covered in piles of documents.

Yoongi lets out a huff of air before standing abruptly. Jin stares at him and widens his eyes when he notices that he’s about to leave. Nervously he stands from his seat as well, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to ask her myself,” Yoongi replies as if it was the most obvious answer, his hand reaching for the door handle.

Jin gasps, “I wasn’t being serious!” he moves around his desk to grab hold of the advisor.

But Yoongi shakes his head, stepping back from his reach, “I know you weren’t, but you’re right. If I want change to happen, I need to go to her myself,” he watches concern wash over the older male before placing a hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, I won’t lose my cool,” he says in an attempt to reassure him.

Though both Yoongi and Jin knew he was lying. He was just telling him what he wanted to hear. Jin wanted to stop him, but in the end, he lets it go since he knows that once Yoongi’s got his mind set on something, it was nearly impossible to get him out of it, ”fine, but I don’t want to hear about you getting sent to the dungeons again Yoongi.”

Though Yoongi only chuckles, “I won’t get angry, don’t stress about.”

And boy was he wrong, because it hasn’t even been 10 minutes that he walked into her office until hell broke loose.

“Just let them handle it Yoongi, why are you so upset, I’ve given you plenty of work before,” she barks angrily.

“I’m upset, because you never give me the same amount of work as them!” He snaps back at her, tone equally as harsh.

She nearly growls at his attitude, “Would you relax Yoongi, it’s just pieces of paper! If I had known you’d get so fucking irritated over it I would’ve sent the entire pile to you if that’s what you really wanted!”

That’s not what he wanted. He wanted her attention, her trust, he wanted to be the first person she sought out when she needed help.

He wanted her.

“Y/n-” he gets interrupted when Y/n grabs a pile of documents and throws it in the air in front of him. He watches as the pieces of paper float down everywhere in the room, making it look as if a tornado wrecked havoc in the area.

“Here! Just do it all for all I care, they’re just damn pieces of papers anyway,” Y/n growls tiredly. Yoongi could not have come at the worst time. Not only did she have to deal with a raging headache, but now her own advisor was yelling in her face far too early in the morning for it to be tolerable.��

She could feel her head ringing at the volume of his voice, but when she told him to leave as she wasn’t in the best mood to argue, he kept refusing stubbornly, insisting she listen to his complaints because apparently what he needed to say was so important to go against her orders. And so when she realized his important reasoning was because he was upset over his workload, her anger only rose from there.

With her already sour mood, him snapping back at her surely didn’t help his case either.

“I have way too much shit to deal with right now, don’t add onto it Yoongi,” she spats loudly, the piles of paper covering nearly the entirety of the floor around them.

His shoulder drops, finally coming to terms with everything as he stared into the once cheerful eyes narrow dangerously into tiny slits.

The girl before him, was never and will never be his.

For the past few days, Yoongi had been actively avoiding not only you, but everyone else. No matter how hard they tried, neither Namjoon or Jin could reach out to him. It was almost as if Yoongi somehow knew just when and where everyone would be to successfully avoid them.

In the beginning of the empresses reign, no one took him seriously because he wasn’t from noble descent like Namjoon and Jin. when they would attend national council meetings, no one spoke directly to him as if his previous status of a commoner was still intact. And so he had to put on this whole ruthless persona for people to show an ounce of respect for him. He had to exert more effort to prove to everyone that he was equally as worthy as the other two advisors. That he was capable of doing the same amount of work, even if he didn't receive the same strenuous education as them.

And because of the comparison between him and the other two advisors, insecurities were born and shattered his mind.

So seeing you put your trust in Jin and Namjoon hurt him a lot more than he would like to admit. The fact that they both knew and yet you hadn’t brought it up with him once was like a shot to his heart.

And yet throughout his time spent alone, Taehyung's voice echoes in his mind.

“When was the last time you ever treated her as one of her advisors? When have you ever truly cared for her majesty?”

He groans out of frustration at the entire situation. Because as much as he hated to admit it, he was right. When was the last time he treated her with respect. Even though the rest of the boys joined the rebellion with him, never once did they blatantly disrespect the empress the way he did.

And with the current situation, he doesn’t even think he deserves his position of advisor anymore. Never in his life did he imagine that someone was drugging the empress. All this time, he’s been bitterly blaming the empress about the current condition of the empire when in reality, it wasn’t even her fault. He pushed her away when she needed him the most. When she was suffering he unknowingly made things worse. And because of that, he doesn’t even know if he has the courage to face the empress ever again.

Yoongi freezes when he hears a tentative knock at his door. Slowly, he raises his head from his hands before responding in a loud tired voice, “who is it?” ready to curse out the person on the other side of the door.

“It’s me hyung.”

Yoongi widens his eyes at the familiar voice that he can’t help but rise from his seat. He carefully walks over and finally opens the door to reveal Jimin’s figure standing before him. For a moment, the two men stand opposite of each other in silence.

“I need to talk to you,” Jimin finally says. Yoongi nods and steps aside for him to enter, still in complete disbelief that he wanted to speak to him after everything that’s been said between the two in the past month.

As if reading his mind, Jimin turns to him with an uncertain smile, “You’re probably wondering why I'm here,” Yoongi only nods, unable to produce words at this point. Jimin stops at the center of his office before continuing, “I know we’re going through a rough patch right now, but at the end of the day, you’re still someone that I deeply care about. You’re my brother and I’m just worried about how you’re taking the situation,” he explains with a nervous expression.

Yoongi’s eyes soften, of course they weren’t on good terms at the moment, but Jimin was right, at the end of the day, they’re brothers. He could never truly hate or get mad at him, or any of them for that matter unless they truly betrayed him.

Jimin wasn’t certain this would be a good idea, unsure how the older male would react to his presence. And so when he hears Yoongi let out a chuckle, although not so enthusiastically, that alone causes Jimin to visibly relax.

Just then, Yoongi lets out a long sigh, “I’ll be honest, I feel like shit. But I know she’s probably going through it way harder than I am,” he finally replies as he rolls his neck.

Jimin nods, “I’m sure she is,” he mutters looking away.

Though Yoongi raises a brow, Jimim’s tone almost hinting at the fact that he doesn’t know about your feelings which was surprising to Yoongi since he knows how close he is to you. At that realization he furrowed his brows, “you haven’t spoken to her, have you?”

Jimin seems to stiffen at his claim, he contemplated lying but knew the older male would see right through him anyway, and so he just shakes his head, “no I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

Jimin lets out a low chuckle, “I wasn’t able to keep a promise with her,” he answers softly, running his fingers through his hair.

Now Yoongi was even more confused than before, he wanted to ask more questions but felt like now wouldn’t be the right time based on the downcasted look on the younger man's face. And so he only nods in return. Though Jimin’s lips quirk up, grateful that he doesn’t push the topic further.

Jimin leans against the back of his couch, crossing his arms, “I saw you that day,” he added, wanting to change the subject. “The day at the ball,” he clarifies when he saw the puzzled look on Yoongi’s face.

“You attended the ball?”

Jimin shakes his head, “no I was watching from above, her majesty wanted me to be her ‘eyes in the sky’, or something like that,” he pauses before chuckling, “she’s been saying some strange things recently.”

Rather than laughing along with him, Yoongi can’t help but feel annoyed, “Of course you fucking knew about it, too,” he mutters furiously under his breath.

Jimin widens his eyes at his sudden harsh tone, “Pardon?”

Yoongi scoffs, now stomping his way to his desk, “The empress told you of her plans,” Yoongi uttered with resentment, “everyone but me.”

And as if the world wanted to continue mocking him, here you appear through the open door, with Hoseok right beside you. You freeze in your spot, when you realize Jimin, who was now staring at you like a deer in headlights, was also present in the room. Despite his surprise, he bows out of respect. Though you can’t say the same about Yoongi.

“What are you doing here,” Yoongi curses at himself, he didn’t mean to take his anger out on you. You just happened to arrive at a bad time.

Though his cold icy tone doesn’t deter you in the slightest, “I came to inform you that we’ll be holding a meeting tomorrow,” you explain hesitantly, careful not to say the wrong thing to aggravate him even more.

He raises a brow in doubt, “you came here to personally tell me?”

You nod, “the rest of the men wanted to have a meeting regarding the situation, but I didn’t want to attend if you weren’t present.”

Yoongi scoffs, “I'm not some charity case.” Although, Yoongi can’t deny the warm feeling in his chest from what you said.

You stop, taken aback from his words, “Is that what you think you are?” you pause before continuing, “Why do you think you became one of the empress’s advisors?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at this, “Because you think of me as a brother,” he spats bitterly.

“No, it’s because you’re one of the few people I trust most in this world, I know we had a bumpy road getting here, but you have to believe me when I say that I trust you,” you insist as you take a step closer into the room.

Though your statement seemed to have ignited a fire in him as he snaps his head to you with narrowed eyes, “If you trust me so much then why didn’t you let me know about this entire situation?!” You jump back at his tone, surprised by how angry he got.

Hoseok steps forward in an instant, “Hyung I had no idea about the drugs either,” he blurts out, trying to dissipate the tension in the room as he moves to stand in between you and Yoongi.

Jimin nods in confirmation, shifting his body to stand protectively in front of you as well, “he’s right hyung, Hoseok also had no idea what was going on.”

“That may be true, but she still sought your help, no? She needed military strength, she needed someone to hide in the shadows and she went to you two,” he snaps at them. Hoseok shuts his mouth, unable to form words to counter his claim.

Though it’s not like Yoongi was going to let anyone else speak, not until he was finished, “Where do I come into play? Jin hyung and Namjoon helped with the plan, Jimin looked out for you from above, Hoseok provided the military strength, Jungkook and Taehyung came as your escorts. But what about me?” At this point, Yoongi paces around the room frantically, you try to reach out to him but he jumps back as if your touch would burn him.

“Why am I always in last place!” He yells at the top of his lungs, “Is it because I wasn’t born into high nobility like Jin hyung? Is it cause I’m not some fucking genius like Namjoon? Or as handsome as Jungkook and Taehyung. Or as confident as Jimin. Or as reliable as Hoseok?” He continues his rant when everyone is too stunned to react.

“Yoon-”

“Why am I never good enough for you!” He shouts, slamming his fist hard on his desk. The room becomes silenced in an instant. The only sounds coming from the broken advisor standing before you.

“Am I not enough?” He sniffles, his voice cracking as he stumbles, grabbing hold of the corner of the table to stabilize himself. He bows his head low, an attempt to hide the tears forming in his eyes.

You turn to look at Jimin and Hoseok, giving them a solemn look as you nod your head in the direction of the door, wanting to speak to him privately.

They seem to understand your gesture as they begin to silently make their way out of the room. Although Jimin hesitates for a moment standing by the doorway. He takes one last look at Yoongi and back to you, his expression unreadable before finally closing the door behind him.

At the click of the door, you turn your head back to Yoongi, your eyes focused solely on him. Carefully, you take slow steps towards him, you don't know if he notices but if he did he didn’t take any further steps away from you. “Yoongi, you are more than enough for me, you have to believe me,” you urge as you stop a few feet away from him. Careful to not overwhelm and crowd around his space.

His silence urges you to continue, “I just felt like you didn’t want anything to do with me so I gave you your space,” you explain softly, “But you’re still one of my advisors, I should’ve communicated with you better on the situation. I'm sorry.”

You take a few experimental steps towards him, assessing his reaction carefully because if you saw any indication that he was uncomfortable by the distance, you would step away immediately. But he gave you none. Even when you were now standing in front of him, he didn’t make an effort to move away. Instead, he finally lifts his head, holding your stare as his tears now running down his face.

You don’t know what got over you, but at the sight of his tears, you find yourself reaching your hand out until they cup his face gingerly. His breath hitches when your hand caresses his cheek, your fingers wiping away the seemingly never-ending tears.

“Yoongi, you’re more than enough for me,” you repeat softly as you stare into his eyes. Almost mesmerized as his glossy eyes shined back at you making it look as though you were staring at the night sky.

You lean your body forward until your arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing him into a tight hug, “I’ll always need you,” you say in a soft whisper. But no matter how quiet you were, he heard you loud and clear.

He sucks in a breath as a sob escapes his mouth. He doesn’t try to fight you, instead, he wraps his arms around your waist instantly, tightening his grip around your body.

But instead of calming down, his sobs grow louder at the feel of your body against his.

Concerned, you try to pull away but Yoongi only tightens his grip around you as he shakes his head.

“Don’t,” he whimpers softly, clutching onto you tighter as if you would slip away forever, “please don’t leave me. Not yet,” he cries out. Your heart nearly shattering at the sound of his voice cracking.

Your eyes soften as you once again relax in his arm, your hands rubbing his back reassuringly as he continues to cry, his tears falling onto the nape of your neck. “I won’t,” you soothe gently, “I won’t leave you Yoongi.”

He sniffles once more, “You’re really back?”

You don’t have it in you to respond with a straight answer. You just couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him like that, especially in his current state. Lying to his face knowing that the empress he knew was no longer the owner of this body. That you were a completely different person, but who in their right mind would believe you.

So instead, you nod softly, reaching a hand to run through his hair. His tears stream down his face as he chokes back a cry at the feel of your nod.

You smile bitterly, as you have to keep reminding yourself, the girl he loves isn’t you, it’s the empress. He’s not crying for you, he’s crying for her.

You had seen this coming, but it still hurt a lot more than you had expected. The world for some reason just wouldn’t stop being cruel to you.

A young man approaches the darkly lit room slowly, the only source of light being the fireplace that’s barely holding onto life as it seems as though it’s about to die out at any moment.

“Master, I’ve come with urgent news,” the boy announced, news so important he fidgets in his spot nervously as he anticipates his reaction. It’s silent in the room, the only sound coming from the crackling of the fire as the wood burns.

There, sat in front of a large window was the boy’s master, he had not turned around to face him, instead, opting to stare up at the moon as it shines brightly down on him, “Speak,” he commands in a dominating voice.

The boy nods his head, “We received a report confirming the death of Grand Duke Lee Joong-gu as well as Sir Taehyung, Sir Jungkook, and Sir Jimin stepping down from the rebellion.”

The man hums, immensely intrigued by the sudden news, “and the others?”

The boy shakes his head, “there have been no reports being made of the others stepping down as of this moment master, though many speculate it’s just a matter of time at this point.”

The man bellows loudly at that, as he leans back comfortably in his chair, his eyes shining with mirth, “I told that damn duke not to get too greedy and look what happened. He got caught,” he scoffs as he turns fully around, hands crossed on his desk as he traces the letter he had received from the late grand duke a mere few weeks ago in a bored manner, “Seems what that fool said was of concern after all, her majesty has truly changed.”

The boy nods, “What do you suggest we do now?”

He turns back around, admiring the night sky, “tell my men to continue keeping an eye on her majesty. And report everything to me.”

The boy bows, “yes master,” he responds before turning away, ready to inform those of the new orders.

“Well I’ll be damned,” the man whistles as he leans back on his chair, “so you truly did succeed in changing the story,” he chuckles and with a dangerous glint he stares up at the moon, “I can’t wait to meet you, new empress.”

A/N: Hey guys!! I’m so sorry for taking so long to upload this chapter, I had to focus on my final exams and all the assignments my professors piled on me at the end of the semester. So I tried to finish this chapter as fast as I could!

I hope you’re all happy with how things went in this chapter. Also sorry for all the drama, I just felt like it would be better for the reader and Yoongi to make up instead of making more chapters of them avoiding each other when they could just communicate about their feelings.

Thank you everyone for supporting and reading my story! I also love receiving all your kind messages so thank you so much for that!

And as always, I hope you have a wonderful day!!

Tagslist: (those in bold, I’m not sure if it worked for you, I’m really sorry, I’m not sure how to fix it) (I also apologize if I forgot to add someone, just comment again and I promise to add you in the next one!!)

@reallysparklychaos, @unknownsageking, @casspirit0705, @fangirl125reader, @silscintilla, @serefara29, @chimtaesty-main, @xxqueenwxtchxx, @diamonddia-mond, @vishakhas-world, @purelyecstacy, @resticou, @woopetals, @magicsweetener, @splaterparty0-0, @daydreambrliever, @strangeobjectmaker, @luna-xial, @m0chilattae, @celaenaelentiyavox, @lindsayjoy444, @layzfeelit, @kimsaerom, @songtiddies, @untamedgrape, @sonnymii, @moonssuga, @kassandravictoria, @galaxyflab, @blank-et-noir, @nynhope , @midnight1199, @yessii-i, @protontippens, @gguktings, @borahebangtan, @katkrusade, @handsupanddropthepotato, @missseoulite, @cellula-staminale, @red-bow-tie3, @whateveritis616, @ggukkieland, @sbroces, @nnessworls, @yoonieebear

#poly bts #poly!bts #bts au #bts fanfic #isekai #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Note

hmmm can vampires get sick? maybe sick vampire chris thinking Jake is gonna pull out or file down his fangs? or just thinking Jake’s gonna hurt him?

CW: Sick whumpee, vampire whumpee, blood drinking, vague implications of past sadistic/creepy whumper, dehumanization, vague tooth/mouth whump (nothing direct, but aftermath)

Sort of a sequel to this piece, part of the Vampire Chris AU

"What hurts?" He keeps his voice low, and carefully doesn't hesitate before he lays a hand over the vampire's forehead. Of course it feels lukewarm, room temperature, but he still goes through the motions of feeling for a fever. It's muscle-memory, instinct, and he keeps forgetting Chris is dead.

He has been dead for a long time, if his occasional comments on what sounds like Prohibition are true.

"Bones," Chris whimpers, twisting where he lays in Jake's bed. There's a bright flush in his cheeks from the blood he'd drained from the two men who broke into the house. Those odd eyes glitter, overbright. "My... m'bones hurt, Jake."

His mouth opens, pulling air in over his tongue and down his throat in soft pants, and Jake is reminded that vampires don't sweat. Not the same way, anyway, although with enough blood they can, in thin sheens of pink-tinged liquid that are even more alarming than their tears.

His fangs are visible this way, razor-sharp canines that come down further than the rest of his teeth, a brighter white than all the others from being pulled and regrowing so many times.

Jake swallows against his nervousness, brushing hair away from the vampire's forehead. His slit pupils are dilated, taking up too much of the iris, and he tells himself that Chris is as scared as he is of the instincts that drive him, barely understands them.

Vampires aren't animals - but when they don't understand themselves, they act like it sometimes.

"Do you think maybe those guys were on something? Like, a drug maybe?" He pets through Chris's hair, fingercombing his hair, and watches Chris's eyes flutter closed.

It's hard not to feel more than a little reassured not having to look at them any longer. Which makes him feel guilty, considering this not-a-kid kid just beat up people for hurting him.

Killed them, his brain whispers. Killed them like he could kill you.

"May, maybe," Chris mumbles, and pants again.

His gums seem oddly dark, where normally they're pale, and Jake frowns. He wishes now he knew more about vampire physiology, that he'd paid more attention in class when they took the safety courses on how to avoid them.

There's not exactly a class on caring for one - not unless you can afford to purchase them outright.

"Well, when you were-... uh, before you found us... did you ever feel like this?"

Chris's eyes blink slowly back open and he nods. "Sometimes. My, my, my, my-... someone would, um, take something before, before the party, and I'd..." He groans and shudders. Jake can see the pain move through his body as he trembles nearly violently. "I'd feel like, like, like this after... for hours..."

"Okay. So... probably you just have to let this get worked out of your system, right? Or... is there a medicine?"

"No... just... just drink more." Chris looks up at him, eyes so wide and sad and scared and hurting, and grabs onto his wrist with one hand. Those cool fingers are never not a little startling, colder than the air around them, than the rest of his body.

Vampires have poor circulation, Jake knows, even when they're filled up on a fresh meal. He's seen Chris heal his own wounds before with his tongue, had him explain that they don't heal on their own with time if they're on hands or feet.

"Chris-"

"You, you, you, you-... can, um, you can take my teeth after. You can. I'll hold still. I'll, I'll be good." Chris's plea is barely a whisper.

His nails, which must have been a little too long when he was killed and turned, dig painfully into Jake's wrist in his desperation.

"I'll be so, so, so so so so good, Jake. So good for you, and then, you can, you you you can take my teeth-... Sir always liked it, it makes me me me cry, we we cry blood, Sir liked to take photos of it-"

"Sssshhhh. Hush, Chris." Jake's mind races. There are others in the house, but-... he can't ask them to give up blood to Chris. They've already taken over cleaning the blood up from the hardwood floor. Nat's already dealt with talking to the cops and the EMTs and the coroner before the bodies were taken away. They already handled hiding Chris in a false-backed closet while Jake was interviewed by police officers who looked interested and excited,, not disturbed.

It's not every day you see a vampire attack, after all.

Mostly they're under control, kept on leashes and muzzled like dangerous dogs, the property of rich celebrities looking for novelty in a world where they already have everything. The few ferals are killed pretty fast.

Or so everyone says.

Jake is starting to wonder if there are more vampires out there than he knows about.

The cops had even insisted on checking the attic, as if Chris was a bat they might find hanging upside down. That had been ridiculous, but it's not like Jake could say he knew better without being asked how he knew so much about them in the first place.

Oh, because we keep one like a stray fucking puppy. That wouldn't go over well.

He feels a little woozy from the adrenaline crash, and still aches from the bruised ribs where he was kicked around. His mouth aches from the duct tape they'd put over it, and he'd got a hell of a rash starting around his wrists. He's so exhausted he might collapse.

But... Chris really did show up right on time, and maybe saved his life.

Chris pulls Jake's wrist to his face, nuzzles into the inside of it against the pale blue veins that show through the thin skin. Jake shudders at the feeling, swallowing back a low-level disgust.

He wonders how old the teenager really is - he wonders that all the time.

"You c-can have my teeth, after," Chris whispers, lips moving against Jake's skin. "You can keep them. Sir used to, to, to keep them in a box and show m-me. Just, please, please help me feel better, Jake, please... It won't hurt."

Jake closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "If it'll help... fine. But I'm not taking your teeth. They're yours."

"Thank you," Chris breathes out. "That's, that's, that's okay. I can still fix it for you. Thank you, Jake." His fangs slip back into Jake's skin as easily as a heated knife through warm butter.

The venom hits his bloodstream before the pain hits his nerves, and Jake feels himself slump over, head falling onto Chris's shoulder as all his limbs go dead.

It almost feels good, as his ribs stop aching, and the bruises stop throbbing on his skin. He can see why rich people love it as a party drug. You could drift in this place of perfect no-pain for a long, long time.

He feels only the wet movement of Chris's tongue, the shift of his fangs, the soft pressure of the other teeth pushing down. Chris purrs softly, drinking his blood like a kitten lapping milk.

It goes on and on, and for one terrifying second Jake thinks he's not going to stop until he's dead.

"Ch-... Chris-"

Those fangs slip suddenly out of his skin, the wet cool tongue licks rough over his wounds - closing them instantly.

The venom slowly fades, the aches and pains settling back into his body. Jake groans, feeling weak and exhausted.

Chris has to push him up off his shoulder, with unnatural strength moving him to lay on his side on the bed. Jake can barely keep his eyes open.

Chris, leaning over him, could rip his throat out and he couldn't even raise a hand to try and defend himself right now. Jake sees the body of the first dead robber behind his eyelids, the expression of horror written in eternal rictus in his expression, the blood down his shirt and puddled beneath him on the floor. The other man, fighting until he stopped, slumping until Chris had drained him to death.

"I feel better," Chris whispers, kneading at Jake's shirt briefly. "I, I, I feel so much better. Go to, um, go to sleep, Jake. I'll fix it so you're safe."

Jake can't even begin to understand what that means before he's already slid into something more like unconsciousness than actual sleep. The world around him simply goes black, and the last thing he feels is Chris pulling a blanket up to his chin.

The last thing he hears is those soft padding footsteps leaving the room.

When he wakes, he finds two fangs, pristine white with bloodied roots, sitting in a washcloth next to where his head lays on the pillow. he finds a pair of small pliers on the bathroom sink, with droplets of red around them.

The sun is shining outside the window, a bird singing loud enough to drive a drillbit into his head, and Chris is curled up asleep in the dark at the back of a closet, mouth slightly open.

Jake stares down at the empty spots where his fangs should be, and wonders if he's grateful, or horrified.

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband

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sugawara-sweetheart · 3 years

Text

𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯 (𝔪)

❥pro hero!shoto todoroki x fem!reader

❥warnings: noncon, yandere, nipple play, office sex, weight descriptor used (maybe once or twice)

❥word count: 2k

❣︎anon: I saw your request post- I’m pretty new to your blog so I’m not sure who you write for- but maybe something with pro hero!Todoroki and his new assistant? One that’s used to receiving and handing out casual touches, but when they give him that type of physical treatment, he interprets it wrong, and thinks they like him? (Not sure if you write non-con, I understand if you don’t) It could either end with them being hit with a sex polled quirk, or him just taking what he wants..? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

another late night working. the streets outside have slowed down, darkness blankets the sky and todoroki is still at his desk, filling out paperwork. his head drums and his mouth is filled with the taste of coffee, exhausted from patrolling and training new interns but the day isn’t done yet. he’s just glad he has your company.

“you should go home soon, shoto.” you smile as you enter his office, bringing him a cup of sweet-smelling tea. you always make it perfectly too, exactly how he likes it that every sip has warmth running through him and he swears your fingers are magic. or maybe it’s every part of you- every atom of your being is ethereal and beautiful. “you work so hard, you deserve a good rest.” as you place the tea down on his desk by the stack of papers he has to get through, he sees how your eyes practically shine with admiration towards him. and it’s not superficial admiration- not simply admiring his unique quirk or pandering to him because of his father’s fame- but genuine sheer admiration, respect, love.

“just ten more minutes.” todoroki smiles and you laugh as you reach out to squeeze his shoulder, settling on the edge of his desk. you did that often, sit at his desk with you tight costume squeezing your thighs as you reach out to pat his shoulders. sometimes you’d ruffle his hair, give him a little side hug, graze your fingers over his arm- but he isn’t oblivious. not anymore. he knows exactly how you feel towards him, and in all truthfulness, he feels it all for you too. “i’m not ready to go home yet, not whilst you’re still here.” you laugh merrily at his words, your eyes crinkling so prettily with your smile that todoroki can’t help but feel his own smile grow. everything about you is so wonderful- your quirk, your work ethic, your sweet nature. you’re perfect for him. the gentleness, the patience, the understanding and sheer love he lacked so much in his upbringing- you held it all for him. a warmth after so much cold.

“you know i always like to keep you company.” you say. your hand still remains on his shoulder, your eyes piercing into his. he knows you love him. he knows you’re waiting for him to do the right thing, to be the chivalrous gentleman you crave and take what you both desire so much.

“good. only keep mine too. no one else.” a small crease etches between your brows and you slowly retract your hand as todoroki squeezes your thigh, groaning at the soft plushness and warmth of your body.

“well, you are my only boss.” it’s an awkward chuckle and you’re about to slide off the desk but he’s faster, standing up immediately and caging you between the wood with his tall body. his hands fit perfectly onto your hips, grasping you tight as he lowers his face to yours, lips ghosting yours.

“no.” your eyes are wide, body still. “i mean, be mine only. be my love. be with me forever-” he groans as he nuzzles his face against yours, eyes fluttering shut as he inhales in the sweet scent of your body. “be mine forever.”

“sh-shoto, i think you’ve got-”

“it’s okay.” he cuts you off quickly with a kiss to your lips, cupping your face and silencing you with his lips pressed to yours, groaning at the saccharine taste of you even though you splutter and try to prise him away from you. “it’s okay- you don’t have to speak, you don’t have to say anything.” you don’t return his wide smile as he strokes your face tenderly. he didn’t realise you were this shy. “i know everything- all your little touches, how much you care for me, how sweet you are- i know you love me. and i love you too.” you gasp when he takes your hand, pressing it to his crotch and his head falls back with a soft sigh as you feel his hardening dick pressing against the fabric of his hero suit. “look what you do to me.”

“shoto, please-” your head turns away as he tries to lean in to kiss you, his lips instead tracing along your jaw as his hands find the zipper of the hero suit. “i think you’ve misunderstood.”

“you don’t have to be shy.” he murmurs against your skin, hips slowly rutting his hardened cock into your stomach as he peels down your suit. “i’ll take care of you. forever.”

todoroki inhales sharply at the sight of your beautiful body. you shudder, gripping the edge of the table with your face contorted with worry but all he can focus on is mouthing kisses along your collarbones, hands massaging your breasts.

“hey, don’t be scared.” he coos gently, tongue flicking over your pebbling nipples. “i’ll make you feel good, you look so beautiful.” he grunts as he pulls his cock out of the confines of his pants, hardening as he strokes it whilst you’re stuck between his body and the desk.

“shoto- i’m not- please.” your eyes fill with tears and todoroki is gentle as he cups your chin, slotting his lips between yours as his hand delves between your thighs. his cheeks dampen with your tears but he understands why you’d be scared, he knows it’s daunting and you’re his assistant- but it’s okay, he’ll take care of you. you’re the love of his life, he knows exactly how to treat you. his fingers swirl your clit slowly, dampening with your slick as you tremble, your fingers circling his wrist when he starts to pump his fingers into your tight hole. your walls cling to his limbs, slick squelching louder as sounds fall from your lips- neither of you are sure whether they’re cries or moans.

“are you going to cum?” shoto mumbles, head lowering to wrap his lips around your nipple. he sucks, tongue swirling and flicking over it as your legs quiver around his hand, walls fluttering as your tear-stained face falls back.

“shoto- no, no- i don’t-” but your body can’t deny the pleasure pulsating through as your walls tighten around his curling fingers, a moan falling from your lips when he rubs against that spongy patch deep inside and wetness gushes from you. you’re sobbing as you cum, shoto’s fingers fucking you through your high as he kisses along your chest, along your throat before he meets your lips, swallowing down your cries.

“it’s okay, it’s okay,” he shushes you gently, one hand cupping the back of your head and pulling your face into the warmth of his shoulder whilst he pulls the other from between your legs. a thick sheen of your release glistens on his fingers, making him groan as he slips his fingers between his lips. you stare at him with horrified glassy eyes, watching him suck and lick his fingers clean, groaning at the taste of you with drunken, heavy-lidded eyes. “god, i love you so much- you taste so good- want you so bad.”

“sh-shoto-” you sniffle as you cling to his shoulders, squirming on the desk but he doesn’t see it- he doesn’t see the pelading in your eyes, begging him. or maybe he does. he just reads it entirely differently, as he pushes you further onto the desk, hands spreading your legs gently but firmly.

“hm, it’s okay- i know you want more.” he mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours as he grips his cock, stroking it slowly. “i’ll give it to you,” he grunts as he slides his dick along your folds, your warm wet pussy gliding along, dampening the veiny skin with your slick. “and when we go home today, we can do it again and again.” your head spins as you feel the leaking cockhead prod at your entrance, heart racing and blood ringing in your ears. you’re seeing black spots. “i’ll never let you leave me.”

the stretch burns. your body goes slack but shoto’s there- he’s fucking everywhere as he holds you up against his chest, mouthing kisses at your sweaty skin and groaning against it, his breath hot and wet as he slides his cock into your cunt. it hurts, even with his hand slipping between your bodies, swirling your clit slow with warm stimulation running through you.

“you feel so good.” he groans, head falling into your shoulder. “so tight- you’re so perfect for me. i love you so much.” he slowly rocks his hips into you, your walls tightening as you groan with discomfort, with utter disgust and hate but you can’t do anything. your body feels heavy, even with your mind screaming at you to fucking move. bite him, scratch him, use your quirk, why can’t you just fight back? “love you so much- you’re all i think about. you feel so much better than i ever imagined.” his thrusts grow faster, deeper with his thick cock rubbing at all the sensitive spots in your cunt. even with your mind going blank, the tears growing dry on your face as you cling to shoto, letting him fuck into your pussy with loud sinful moans, you can’t stop your body from reacting to the warmth of the pleasure. his fingers rub your swelling clit, pushing you closer to the edge as his cock rubs against your spongy walls, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach before your orgasm hits. you cry heavily as you cum, shoto’s fast thrusts prolonging your high.

but he doesn’t stop, even as it hurts and you’re pressed flat against the table- instead he fucks you faster, desperate with heavy moans as his hands grope your tits.

“you looked so pretty creaming all over my cock.” he sighs, his head falling between your breasts as he continues to fuck you. it hurts now, cockhead nudging into your cervix as you cry out at the dull pain. “i can’t wait to fuck you more- make you into my cute little housewife. i’d treat you so well- i’d fuck you everywhere, over this desk, in the morning, at night- everything you want i’d give you.”

“shoto, please stop.” it’s the first time you could choke out the words, your hands pushing at his chest but he’s too strong, a deep grunt falling from his lips as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“soon, baby. i’ll cum soon- so deep inside this pretty cunt. i’ll let everyone know you’re all mine.”

“no!” it’s a desperate shriek, easily drowned out by his heavy moans as he ruts faster, fucking you for his own pleasure whilst you wince. “please stop- it hurts- stop!”

it’s too late. his head falls back as his cock twitches and you feel the sticky warmth of cum flooding your cunt. there’s so much of it, filling you up entirely and leaking in globules from your abused hole when he pulls out, panting with his cheeks flushed pink. you can’t even cry anymore as he presses his forehead to yours, cupping your face with a smile tugging at his lips.

“you’re my sweet girl. forever. tell me you love me.”

you should hate him. he’s violated you, broken your trust, broken you. there’s an ache between your legs and hurt wracking through your chest but those piercing blue eyes look so desperate searching your face. there’s a horrible twinge as his fingers grip you tighter.

“i love you, shoto.”

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allthatyoulove · 3 years

Text

Until Tomorrow

Isaac Lahey / Female Reader (she/her pronouns used)

Summary: Your best friend, Lydia, has been taken by the nogitsune. You’re determined to get her back- with the help of your crush, Isaac, and your best friends.

Includes: EXTREME ANGST, descriptions of injury, fluff, cussing (once, i think)

Words: 8.6k (!!!!!)

A/N: This is for a request I got from anon! I didn’t want to reply to it and give any spoilers, but this one if for you! I also might’ve changed a few things so the plot could run smoother. (Also, 8k words! I wrote this in one day; I absolutely loved this concept! Also- I will spellcheck in the morning, I haven’t moved from my computer and am exhausted.) Please check out my prompt list! You can request as many prompts as you’d like! Hope you enjoy the story! Feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed, thanks for stopping by :)

~~~

Isaac’s eyes flashed yellow, shaking his head at Deaton.

“You’re next.” Deaton said, standing next to the running shower.

“W-wait. Just- wait, alright?” Isaac said, putting his hand up to stop. Deaton grabbed him, pulling him over to stand next to the shower. Isaac begrudgingly followed him, crouching down slightly so Deaton could get the nogitsune flies. His face twisted in disgust, and Deaton had to force open his mouth to grab it out.

I cringed from my spot next to the bench, my heart hammering in my chest with anxiety.

Isaac braced a hand on the wall, gagging as Deaton tried to get the fly out of his mouth.

“Don’t fight it.” Deaton repeated, Isaac’s arms flailing around him trying to yank Deaton’s hand out of his mouth. My eyebrows pulled together in concern, my balance switching between my feet. I watched them carefully, making sure Deaton wasn’t hurting him. I had to remind myself that he needed to do this, that it would help Isaac feel better in the end. It took everything in me not to run over there and tear Deaton’s hand out of Isaac’s mouth.

“Got it,” Deaton said, pulling the fly out and throwing it into the shower drain. Isaac braced both of his hands on the shower wall, panting for a second. I watched the fly fall down the drain, horrified. The black blood on the floor followed it. My eyes flew back up to Isaac, seeing if he was okay. Our eyes met when he lifted his head up, moving to take long and weary strides towards me. His hands held his stomach as he looked at me in discomfort. My face mirrored his as my eyes followed him. He went to the wall behind me, bracing himself once again as he spit out the blood in his mouth on the floor. I looked at Deaton as I rubbed a hand up and down his back soothingly.

“Are they okay now?” I asked, looking back at Isaac. He rubbed his mouth on his shirt, panting, but okay now.

“I hope so. The part that's worrisome is that this was most likely just a distraction for what was happening to Stiles.”

I could see Isaac looking at me from the corner of my eye as I thought out loud.

“But how did one of them just take Lydia?” I asked, looking at the ceiling. I felt so insanely worried. So devastated. All of my best friends were separated, trying not to die from the horrors that the Nogitsune was throwing at us left and right. Stiles had been possessed by it, creating two of him. One evil, one good. Flies had gotten into Derek, the twins and Isaac, controlling them to make them try to kill us. Now the nogitsune who was inhabiting a clone of Stiles had taken Lydia, my best friend since childhood, hostage. So it’s safe to say I’m pretty stressed right now.

“We turned around and they were gone. So was her car.” Deaton said, shrugging and shaking his head. He was just as lost as we were, which was even more alarming. He usually knew what to do in these situations. I was just grateful he was here to save Isaac.

“So no one notices him just kidnapping her right out of the house?” Ethan asked sarcastically. He was angry, just like the rest of us. Angry that the nogitsune was able to take Lydia so easily.

“Most of us were concentrated on the bizarre sight of a creature, materializing from out of the floor.” Deaton said obviously, gesturing with his hands. Ethan lowered his head in defeat.

“Hold on, how are you so sure which Stiles is which?” Isaac asked.

“That’s what they’re trying to figure out now.” Deaton said, looking around at all of us.

The room fell into a heavy silence, thinking of what they could possibly be doing to Stiles. My heart broke for him, for what he’s been going through. Stiles was one of my best friends, and I would take his place in an instant.

My mind wandered to Lydia. On where she could be, how scared she probably is. My friends and I have been through and seen a lot of messed up things together, but each time it seems to get worse and worse.

I was snapped out of my trance when Isaac’s hand started to rub my back. My eyes went to his, seeing a sympathetic look on his face. He knew what I was thinking about, who I was thinking about. That’s the only place my mind has been recently. I gave him a sad smile.

Scott, Melissa, and Allison were helping Stiles. I had to help Lydia.

“I have to find Lydia. Anything she left. Traces, clues, anything to help me find her.” I said, looking at Deaton. He nodded, and Isaac intertwined his hand with mine. I turned to look at him.

“I’ll go with you.” He said softly. I nodded at him, thanking Deaton for his help before we left.

Isaac pulled apart the lock on the gate, letting it fall to the ground. He opened it, taking a step back and looking at me. I went in, looking at the blue car in front of me.

“This is it. This is Lydia’s car.” I told him, walking towards it.

“The scent is strong with emotion.” Isaac said, analyzing the car.

“Fear?” I asked, walking around to the driver’s side.

Anger.” Isaac said, looking at the back window.

“Sounds like Lydia. Let’s see what else we can find.” I said, looking all over the side of the car. Isaac dropped down to the floor, checking underneath. It was quiet for a second before my mind wandered to a couple nights before. Isaac and I had slept together for the first time. I hadn’t thought of it until now, but now my stomach fluttered with emotion as it all came back to me. I needed to know something from Isaac, now that the nogitsune fly was gone, before I let myself think too much into it.

“Uh, just- just out of curiosity, do you remember the other night?” I asked, raising my voice over the wind. I shut my eyes in embarrassment and preparation, scared of the answer.

“You mean the night before last night?” He asked, still on the ground, checking the car.

“That night before… you weren’t you.” I said, shaking my head. My heart was beating almost out of my chest when he rose from the ground, looking at me with unreadable emotion. He stared at me for a second in silence, his eyes squinting from the sun.

“Yeah. I remember.” He said, looking at the ground before he looked at me again. I got into the car, my mind racing with a thousand questions. He followed me, getting into the passenger's seat. I took a deep breath, staring at my hands in my lap.

“So that night, were you you or were you not you?” I asked, squirming in my seat. I couldn’t look him in the eyes, switching between my hands and the steering wheel.

“You mean, the night when we were us?” He asked, looking up at me.

“Yeah,” I nodded, looking at him. “I just wanna know if… if it was actually you… with me.” I finished, looking back at the steering wheel. He turned his head to me, not responding right away. I finally looked at him, swallowing nervously as I waited for his answer.

“Did- did you want it to be someone else?” He asked, his face serious and confused.

“No. No.” I said, laughing nervously. “Of course not.” I shook my head, blushing.

“Good.” He said, looking at his hands and then back to look at me. “Because it was me.”

I nodded, wanting to run laps from the amount of adrenaline running through my body. I was still so nervous, wanting to ask so many more questions.

“And... I do remember it.” He continued, “I really remember it.”

I looked over at him, not hiding the smile that broke out on my face. He smiled back at me, looking between my lips and eyes. My heart was jumping with relief, my face heating with happiness. I looked back at my lap, trying to contain my smile by biting my lip. I looked out the window, not wanting him to see the blush crawling up my face.

My brows furrowed as I looked closer at the window. It was smudged. Not an accidental smudge, but a deliberate someone-smudged-something-on-the-window type of mark. My mind went to when Lydia and I would write on each other's cars, to give eachother secret messages or mess with the other person. It was a tradition we’d been doing since we were kids. I wrote on Lydia’s mom's car, Lydia wrote on Chris’- who was my uncle. Allison and I would sneak over to Lydia’s house all the time, laughing about whatever it is we smudged on her car that day. We’d always get in trouble for it, but that made it all the more fun.

I breathed on the window, fogging it up.

‘DON’T FIND ME’ was written on the window.

My heart stopped in my chest and my brows furrowed as I turned to look at Isaac. He read it, his eyes meeting mine with equal concern.

---

I screwed a new sight on my crossbow, messing with the connectors and trying to secure it on. Allison was behind me, rummaging through the cupboards and looking for a sling to attach to her own. I had burst in here earlier, mumbling a “hi” before getting straight to work. I didn’t feel like talking much, I just wanted my hands doing something.

I was looking closely at the inside of the scope when I heard Chris’ voice.

“I had a feeling you both might be down here.” He said, entering the room. Allison huffed and sat down in a chair, smiling at her dad. I glanced up at him, smiling before looking back at my crossbow as I replied.

“I needed to do something. I hate waiting.” I picked up the screwdriver, “Feeling useless.” I finished, sighing.

“Where’s Isaac?” He asked me, moving to my side.

“He’s trying to help Scott.” I said, raising my eyebrows as I began screwing in the scope.

“Trying to be useful?” Chris asked sarcastically. I gave him a small smile, nodding. I could hear Allison let out a short laugh before shuffling through the cupboards again, Chris watching me work on the crossbow. I let out a huff of irritation. I was overloaded with worry, and I could feel myself being short and cold with him. I felt bad, but I couldn’t control the amount of frustration I had.

The screwdriver wouldn’t fit into the scope’s own defined screw, which led to me aggressively trying to maneuver it. I was almost scratching the sight with the amount of force I was using. The more I pushed on it the more it would move, the screwdriver going everywhere but where I needed it to.

Chris’ raised his hand to rest on top of mine, stopping the movements. I shut my eyes in frustration and let out a deep breath, trying to get myself together.

“Leave it for now, hmm?” He asked, letting go of my hand and walking behind me. I put my hands on the table, blankly looking at the crossbow.

“I have something else you can do. Something you can both do.” Chris said from behind me. I turned in the stool, looking at him as he kneeled to the ground in front of a cabinet. Allison came to stand next to me, both of us watching him as he opened a safe under a table. He picked up a black container, bringing it to the table and setting it between Allison and I. He opened it, my eyes widening in awe.

There were six silver bars resting on black foam, imprinted with a logo. Chris picked one of them up, looking between Allison and I.

“It’s time for your graduation.”

Allison and I looked at each other and smiled.

Chris put the silver he melted into a bucket, placing it between Allison and I for our arrowhead molds. Chris kissed Allison’s forehead as she began making them, then mine, before turning to leave.

“Wait, Chris. Allison, you too.” I said, making him stop in his tracks and come back over to me expectantly. Allison looked up at me as well.

“If something happens…” I started, thinking of the inevitable fight that was supposed to happen tonight. Frustrations aside, I had to get this out before tonight.

“Hey, hey. You don’t need to worry about me.” He said, interrupting me.

“Or me.” Allison said, shaking her head.

“Well, I- I didn’t get to say anything to my dad.” I said, looking up from my hands to glance between them. Their expressions changed to sorrow, Chris remembering his brother and Allison her uncle. Allison placed her hand over my own that was resting on the table, Chris’ going to my shoulder.

“You didn’t need to say anything.” Chris assured, looking at me with love and grief.

“And we’re both going to be around for a long time. I promise.” Allison added, smiling comfortingly at me.

“Well, then take it as a reminder.” I said sternly. I waited a second, not wanting to cry. There was no need to cry, they promised they would be around for a long time. Still, I didn’t want to regret this. There was always a chance.

“Maybe you guys don’t need to hear it, but I- I need to know that I said it.” I said, switching my gaze between their eyes’.

Their eyebrows furrowed in sadness as they listened.

“I love you both. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of us.” I said, holding both of their hands as I looked in their eyes. They came in for a group hug, Chris placing a kiss on my head as Allison wrapped her arms around us.

---

I opened Scott’s bedroom door, Isaac following behind me.

Allison had told me she would make the molds for us, and that I should be with Isaac, Stiles, and Scott trying to find Lydia. I thanked her profusely, some of my nerves calming down. As soon as I pulled up to Scott’s house, they did too with a girl in a grey sweatshirt- who looked really scared. Isaac came over to explain things to me while they took her inside.

“Lydia? You mean the red-haired girl?” The girl- whose name I learned was Meredith- said. She was sitting on the bed, Stiles in front of her. Stiles was fine now, after the experiment Mrs. Yukimura performed on him. He was back to his normal self, which made me happy. Isaac and I walked on either side of him. Stiles nodded profusely at her.

“Yes! Yes! Good. Progress.” He said, looking up at Isaac and I. We smiled encouragingly at him as he continued. “Now, all you gotta do is tell us where she is.” He said, licking his lips and waving his hands expectantly.

“Okay,” Meredith said, looking between us all, “If she tells me.” We all froze in place, Stiles staring at her with his eyebrows furrowed.

“If she tells you?” Isaac asked, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Can you ask her?”

“I already did.” Meredith said, smiling at us confidently.

“Perfect. Perfect. What did she say?” Stiles asked, concentrating on Meredith. We all held our breath with anticipation.

“She said... she doesn’t want to be found.” Meredith finished.

My mouth dropped, my eyebrows furrowing in shock. I looked over at Isaac with confusion, who was already looking at me just the same. Stiles looked up at the wall behind Meredith, his hands fidgeting together.

“That’s good too.” He said, his eyebrows shooting up in irritation.

“Okay.” I sighed, walking over to Scott’s bathroom. We needed a plan. Isaac and Stiles followed me in, beginning a conversation. I was too busy thinking of something to do while they talked until I heard the end of something Isaac said.

“-I’m just saying-”

“Isaac we are not going to torture her.” Stiles whispered, one arm crossed against his chest while the other came off of his forehead for emphasis.

“I meant scare her.” He frantically whispered.

“Hey, we’re not going to psychologically torture her either.” Stiles said sternly.

“Fine.” Isaac said, rolling his eyes. I spoke up after they finished their bickering.

“How about this- you said she hears things, right?” I whispered to them, both boys looking at me. Stiles nodded, listening to me closely.

“Doesn’t that mean she’s like Lydia?”

“A Banshee?” Isaac asked, looking at me as I nodded, then to Stiles. Stiles looked at the ground in thought for a moment before we all turned our heads to look at her. Stiles looked back at us in thought. I nodded, picking up on what he was trying to say. At my affirmation, we all moved back into the room. Stiles went to crouch in front of her on his knees, Isaac leaning over with his hands on his knees. I stood with my arms crossed, focusing on her to see if this would work. I was silently praying it would. I’ve never gone this long without Lydia, we were always together. Every second that passed put a strain on my heart.

“Okay, just try to focus on the sounds around you.” Stiles said, motioning with his hands. Meredith stared at him intently as he continued. “On what you’re hearing. Just focus on the silence.” Meredith nodded, a determined look on her face.

“Listen to the silence.” Isaac said, nodding at her. I smiled at how serious he looked, how focused he was in helping. It made my stomach flutter with how much he also wanted to find Lydia, how much he knew she meant to me.

“Focusing on the silence-” Stiles said, nodding.

“Listening. To the-” Isaac interrupted, glaring at Stiles before looking back at Meredith.

“Okay, will you just let me handle this, Isaac. Please? I just… I have more experience with banshees.” Stiles said sarcastically.

“Yeah. And mental patients.” Isaac shot back. I let out a laugh, immediately covering my mouth. Stiles heard me, shooting me a glare before turning around to scowl at Isaac again.

“Isn’t anyone going to get that?” Meredith asked, looking at Stiles. We all looked at her with confusion.

“Get what?” I asked, looking at the boys. We all shared a look.

“The phone.” She said, nodding as if it was obvious.

“What phone?” Stiles asked.

“The phone.” Isaac and I said at the same time, pointing at the phone in his pocket. Meredith pointed as well. Stiles looked up at me in question, and I shot him a ‘go along with it’ look. He snapped into character.

“Oh, the phone. My phone? Yes. Of course.” He said, pulling out his phone. He looked at Isaac and I. Isaac nodded, chuckling nervously and staying in character. I was holding in my laughter, which almost made Isaac break out in laughter too. I turned around for a second before I put on a serious face again.

“Hello.” Stiles said, holding his phone to his ear. “Yes, she is- she is actually. She’s sitting right here. It’s for you.” He told Meredith, pointing at her and giving the phone over. She took it, holding it up to her ear. We all waited expectantly, holding out breath as she sat there, concentrated. After a couple of seconds of silence she took it away from her ear, ‘hanging up’ before giving it back to Stiles.

“They say Coup de foudre.” She said matter-of-factly. I looked between Stiles and Isaac, who were looking at me as well. We all started speaking at the same time.

“Coup, coup-”

“Coup de what?”

“What is that, Spanish?” Stiles asked. Isaac and I shook our heads, at a loss for words.

“French.” A voice came from behind us. We turned around, seeing Scott in the doorway. “It’s french.”

---

“Yeah? What happened?” Allison’s voice came through the phone.

“We know where Lydia is.” I told her straight away. I told her the location, Allison hanging up and leaving immediately. I called Chris to let him know as well. When he answered, I spoke before he could get a word in.

“We found her. We found her, Chris. We found Lydia. We’re on our way.” I rushed out, high off the adrenaline of being so close.

“Hold on, hold on. You have to wait.” He said seriously. I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me.

“I… I can’t, Chris.” I said. I looked down at my lap, a wave of sadness rushing over me. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt bad for not listening to him. Isaac was watching me, entwining my hand with his. I shot him a quick half smile.

“Hey, wait for me.” Chris said, demanding.

“There’s no time.” I argued, “It’s already night. There’s no time, Chris.”

“Wait! Wait for me,” He raised his voice, not leaving any room for debate. I hung up on him, not wanting him to convince me to wait any longer. I couldn’t. Now was the time.

It was silent in Stiles’ jeep after I hung up. Isaac was looking ahead, Scott deep in thought. Stiles glanced at Scott before speaking.

“Hey, you okay?”

Yeah.” Scott snapped out of it, trying to sound genuine, “Yeah. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Alright, I’m gonna say it.” Isaac spoke up from next to me. I looked up at him, startled to hear his voice. “You look like you’re dying.”

Scott and I both stared at him, shocked at what he was saying. I lightly hit him on the shoulder, but he continued.

“You’re pale, thin, and you look like you’re getting worse.” He turned to look at me, “And we’re all sitting here thinking it.” I looked down, knowing his was right. Stiles' eyebags had gotten worse within just a few hours, and he looked like he was caving into himself.

“When we find the other you, is he gonna look like he’s getting better?” I thought out loud, looking between everyone. Scott looked down at his lap as he spoke.

“What happens if he gets hurt?” He asked Stiles, referencing the nogitsune that was inhabiting a clone of him currently.

“You mean if he dies, do I die? I don’t care. So long as no one else dies because of me.” He said, glancing at all of us. None of us met his eyes.

“I remember everything I did.” Stiles continued, “I remember pushing that sword into you. I remember twisting it.”

“It wasn’t you.” Scott cut in, looking over at Stiles.

“Yeah, but I remember it. You guys have to promise me.” He said, looking back at Isaac and I before looking back at the road. “You can’t let anyone else get hurt because of me.” We all nodded silently to each other.

It was getting dark outside, and we were getting closer to Oak Creek, where Lydia was. I swallowed nervously, trying to find the confidence to speak up again.

“Hey, guys I, uh- I said something to my dad and Allison, so I- I wanted to say the same to you all.” I said, looking up as I finished. Stiles looked in the rearview mirror at me, Stiles turning in his seat to look at me and Isaac meeting my eyes as well. My heart was about to beat out of my chest. I took a breath to calm down before I spoke.

“You guys are my family. After I lost my dad, and moved in with Allison, you were all there for me. We’ve been through so much together, and- and if one of you guys get hurt, I need to know that I said this. I love you all. You mean the world to me, and I am so proud of how much we’ve grown together.” I finished. Isaac squeezed my hand, bringing me into his chest in a hug. Stiles reached back to put a hand on my knee comfortingly, Scott doing the same. The guys hesitantly said ‘I love you’s’ as well. I laughed at how awkward they were being, which resulted in everyone breaking out into laughter.

I remember when I had first started to learn about Chris’ family all being hunters, about my dad having been a hunter. I was shocked, but interested. I wanted to be like my dad, who was my hero. Allison and I trained together, deciding that a crossbow was our favorite weapon of choice. We grew together, in our skills and in life. All that time, however, I never knew what I would be hunting. Animals, maybe. Until my best friend, Scott, told me he was a werewolf. Everything changed when that happened. When I was introduced to the world of the supernatural. Since then we’ve all fought werewolves, chanimas, and even a darach together. So what trouble was adding a nogitsune to the list?

We loved each other, and we’d be okay.

---

We pulled up to Oak Creek, all of us getting out of Stiles’ jeep. Allison was already there, waiting for us at the gate. We all walked over, forming a circle. We slowly looked around, before we all looked at Scott, waiting. For what, we weren’t sure. Until he started speaking.

“We’ve done this before, guys. A couple of weeks ago we were standing around just like this and we saved Malia, remember?” We all nodded, remembering the werecoyote we banded together to save.

“That was a total stranger. This is Lydia.” He said. I looked to the ground, nodding and getting more and more ready to go fight. He was right. This wasn’t us saving just anyone who was in trouble. We all knew her. We all loved her. We would do anything to protect her.

I would do anything to get her back.

“I’m here to save my best friend.” I said to the group.

“I came to save mine.” Scott said, looking at Stiles.

“I came here for my girlfriend.” Isaac said. I looked up at him, to see him looking at me. I blushed and smiled at him, moving closer to him. He wrapped his arm around me. Butterflies appeared in my stomach at the mention of me being his girlfriend. We had a lot to talk about, and a lot to clear up, but at this moment I was perfectly content with being his girlfriend.

We all sat in the company of one another for another minute before nodding at each other, turning to walk through the gates.

Allison, Isaac, Kira and I stayed in the yard of the place while Scott and Stiles ran to find Lydia. I argued to go with them, but they insisted that I should help the group, should Kira’s mom try to stop them before they get her out. Once Scott explained that to me, I agreed to stay out here with everyone else.

Scott and Stiles ran into the building, the rest of us walking up to Kira’s mom.

“Kira, turn around and go home. Take your friends with you.”

I took an arrow from the quiver strapped across my back, loading my bow with it and pointing it straight at her heart.

“I can’t. When I looked at the game I realized who I was actually playing. You.”

“Game?” I whispered, lowering my bow and looking around at them confused. Isaac was silently laughing to himself, trying to hide it. Kira and Allison turned and looked at me angrily for ruining the moment. Even Noshiko, Kira’s mom, was looking at me.

“Sorry,” I muttered, raising my bow again as everyone moved on. I looked at the demons on either side of Noshiko, covered head to toe in black leather armor. The demon faces they all wore were terrifying, but I didn’t let it show. Even if my heart was in my stomach from fear.

“Call them off.” I said, raising my chin as I kept the arrow pointed at her.

“You think you could save him? Your friend is gone.” She said, looking at all of us.

I swallowed, blinking a couple of times and raising my bow slightly higher.

“And the nogitsune is mine to bury.” As she said that, the oni standing beside her disappeared, leaving a cloud of black smoke behind.

***

Scott and Stiles ran down the hallways of the underground building as fast as they could. They stopped as it split into different directions, Scott looking both ways before going right and down a staircase. Lydia was behind a door of bars.

“Lydia? Are you all right?” Stiles asked frantically, Scott breaking the lock.

“No. No, no, no. Why are you here?” She asked with a terrified expression on her face.

“Lydia, we’re here for you.” Stiles said, as it was obvious.

“You weren’t supposed to be here.” She raised her voice before lowering it again, speaking directly to Scott. “You didn’t get my message?”

“Lydia, what’s happening?” Scott asked, confused.

A tear fell down her cheek.

“Who else is here? Who came with you? Please don’t tell me she’s here.” She said, yelling the last sentence.

***

Noshiko’s mouth dropped a second later, her eyes unfocused as she looked at the ground. She brought her hand up, where a small light was. The light died, only a small cloud of smoke left behind.

“Mom?” Kira said worriedly. I lowered my bow slightly out of confusion.

“What is that?” Isaac whispered. I looked at him, sharing a look of worry between us.

“What does that mean?” I asked, my voice wavering. A voice came from behind me.

“It means there’s been a change in ownership.”

I spun around, seeing Stiles backed by the oni. No, not Stiles- the nogitsune.

Void Stiles.

“Now they belong to me.” He finished.

I raised my bow at him, my eyes widened in shock and in preparation. He watched me raise my bow, then smirked. The oni behind him raised their kitanas in a fighting stance. I heard Isaac growl behind me, now in werewolf form. I heard Allison arm her bow and Kira raise her kitana. There was a second of stillness, until they ran towards each other.

I began shooting my bow, the oni slicing through them. Two of them flanked Isaac. He was scratching them, dodging their swings and growling. Allison was shooting at the two that were surrounding Kira. The last one was standing back by void stiles, waiting.

Isaac and I had gained a momentum, him slicing their stomach and going to the next while I shot them, dazing them for a couple seconds before they yanked it out and continued. We kept this up a few times before one of them dodged Isaac’s scratch, going to stab him. He pushed them away as soon as they raised the kitana, sending him running into a nearby wall. I took aim and shot right at their head. Their kitana was raised at light speed, slicing right through the middle of the arrow. They ran at me, raising their kitana above their head. I didn’t have time to grab an arrow. I held my bow up, blocking their hit just as it came down. Isaac threw the other one in the opposite direction, staring up at me from the ground. I glanced at him, making sure he was okay. He was fine, staring at me with worry. The pressure of the hit made my arms buckle a little bit before I put my attention back on my opponent, forcing my bow back up with all my strength. I grit my teeth as I pushed their kitana up and away from me. They staggered backwards as Isaac raised his lower body, making the oni trip over him. He looked up at me, out of breath, and ran to my side. We backed up a couple of steps, assessing all around us.

Kira was fighting two of them, the sound of their katanas clashing echoing throughout Oak Creek. Allison was helping her fight, shooting them both with her arrows. My eyes squinted as a glare hit them. I looked at the source- Allison’s quiver that held her arrows. There were 6 arrows that were shining.

The silver. She brought the silver arrows.

I made a mental note to compliment how smart she was later.

The two oni got up from the ground, marching back over to Isaac and I. I raised my bow once more as Isaac yelled over his shoulder.

“How do we stop them?”

I spared a glance at Noshiko, who was standing underneath an opening in the building, a horrified look on her face.

“You can't!” She yelled.

I heard the slice of a katana, looking back to see Isaac with his hands limp at his sides. My heart stopped.

***

Scott ran through the underground corridor, Lydia and Stiles behind him.

“Lydia,” Stiles said, crouching over as he leaned against the wall. Lydia turned around, gasping and grabbing a hold of him.

“Lydia, I can’t…” He panted, grabbing onto her as he fell over. She held him, lowering him to the ground slowly.

“I can’t, I can’t…” He repeated, his eyes rolling into his head. Lydia’s eyes looked over his entire face, her hand coming up to his cheek.

He was freezing, and his skin was so pale. She looked to Scott, who continued running down the corridor. Her hands were shaking furiously, her eyes darting everywhere they could. Stiles fell unconscious, and she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t think.

***

I raised my arrow as the other oni cut their blade through Isaac’s stomach. I let the arrow go, watching it fly right by them. My hands were shaking and I wasn’t breathing. I couldn’t.

Isaac growled and groaned in pain as he tried to fight back, throwing hit after hit towards the oni. They dodged them easily, stepping out of his reach as he swung. They took turns slicing his stomach, Isaac dropping to his knees.

My eyebrows pulled up together, my eyes filling with tears. One word was repeating over and over in my mind.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no-

I heard Allison yell my name. I looked over to her as another arrow missed, falling right behind the oni in front of me. She threw something to me, the item gleaming in the air. I caught it, looking down at it as tears fell down my cheek. I blinked them away, seeing that it was an arrow.

A silver arrow.

I wasted no time, sniffling as I blinked away the remaining tears. I raised the arrow, taking aim.

To the middle of the oni’s chest.

---

“What do you want?” I asked, not looking at him as I let go of the arrow. It sailed right by the tree, landing in the leaves behind it.

“Just came to watch the world’s greatest archer.” He said sarcastically, gesturing to the pile of missed shots sitting in the leaves next to the target. Not a single arrow sat on the target.

My face burned with humiliation. I didn’t say anything, instead taking another arrow and trying again. I brought it up, aiming for the middle of the target. I took a shaky breath, my hands not being able to stay still.

I released it as I exhaled, watching it soar through the air.

And into the ground.

I stared at it for a second, before looking at the ground. A tear slipped out of my eye and down my cheek. I couldn’t stop shaking. No matter what I did, I couldn’t hold it still. My hands shook at my sides as I let out a shaky breath, walking to the target to collect all of the arrows.

“Y’know, I actually think I would probably be a better shot.” He continued, raising his voice so I could hear him as I walked further away. I was grateful my back was to him as my entire body heated up with shame. I continued to ignore him as I picked up arrow by arrow, collecting them in my hand. I counted them as I picked them up until I had them all.

“I mean, really. And I’ve never even-”

He stopped mid sentence as I turned around to walk back. He saw my face, tears falling down. His sly smirk was gone in half of a second, quickly turning to guilt and confusion.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, looking at me as I got to my original spot. He walked closer to me to look at my face. I raised my bow again, letting out a breath.

“Nothing.” I said, letting go of the arrow. It hit just below the target, sticking into the tree. I let out a sharp, irritated breath through my nose. The shaking was getting worse and worse as I continued, but I got more angry and encouraged to keep trying as they missed. It was a vicious cycle.

When I brought my bow up yet again, I couldn’t do anything to hide my shaking. The entire bow was shaking now. More tears fell from my eyes as I took aim. I was waiting until I stopped shaking, standing still. He said my name softly.

“Look at me.” He said, putting his hand on mine and lowering my bow. I closed my eyes, letting out a breath before turning to him. I looked up at him pathetically, ready for some sarcastic remark.

“What happened?” He asked, bringing his hand up to put my hair behind my ear. Heat flushed my face at the gesture, my stomach twirling.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I whispered.

He looked as if I slapped him, hurt flashing over his face. He nodded in understanding, however. I was confused, wondering why he would be hurt over that. I couldn’t let him know I cared, however, keeping my face stone. We stood in silence for a second before he spoke softly.

“Let me help you.”

“Help me? How?” I spoke, sniffling. He gave me a small smile.

“I know a thing or two about anxiety.” He said. I let out a short laugh, to which he immediately reacted, his face brightening up.

“Come on, aim for it again.” He said, motioning with his head to the target. I looked at the target, then back at him.

“Just do it.” He said dramatically. I smiled and listened, raising the bow again. My hands still shook, a little less lightly now but still visible.

“Can I?” He asked, using his hands to motion towards me. I was slightly confused, but I trusted him. I’m not sure why.

I nodded at him. He moved closer to me, his chest touching my back. I held my breath, his arms wrapping around me to cover mine on the bow. He surrounded me, encasing me against his chest. He was so warm.

“Breathe.” He whispered into my ear, the vibration of his voice going through his chest. I inhaled and exhaled, closing my eyes with it. He breathed with me, very dramatically. I brought my elbow back, hitting him in annoyance. He let out an ‘ow!’ before laughing and apologizing. We continued to breathe together, until all I was focused on was the sound of our breaths.

After a couple of minutes, he slowly raised his hands off of mine.

“Now shoot.” He said, taking a step back. I internally sighed, the cold chill of the morning hitting my back.

I took another breath before letting the arrow go, watching it soar through the air.

Right into the middle of the target.

I raised my arms, cheering with happiness. I jumped up and down, turning to Isaac. He had a huge smile on his face, watching me with his hands in his jacket. I was so happy, I threw my arms around his neck. His hands immediately left his pockets, going to wrap around my waist and lift me into the air, spinning around. We laughed, completely happy on how well that worked. He slowly stopped spinning, putting me back down on the ground. My arms slowly left from around him, his arms staying around my waist. Our laughter died down as we looked into each other’s eyes. My eyes glanced between his, darting to his mouth. He did the same, the sound of us catching our breath all I could hear. I blushed, looking away and back at the target. His arms slowly left from around my waist, and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face as I took aim yet again.

“Let me do it again.”

---

I took a deep breath, focusing on the sound and the feeling in my stomach. I shut my eyes for a split second, opening them to my hands completely still. I didn’t hesitate on letting the arrow go.

Everyone around me seemed to freeze in place, only the oni moving in slow motion as Isaac looked at me in what seemed like his final moments. His eyes held so much love and admiration, pulling at my heartstrings. I looked back at the arrow, watching it.

The oni’s arm grew limp as the katana was raised above his head in the final blow, completely still. They looked straight ahead, as if frozen.

I held my breath as I lowered my arms, watching them.

Bright yellow light shone out of it’s chest as the oni struggled to grab onto it, trying to pull it out.

The ground shook, the oni exploding into black powder right in front of us. I shielded my eyes from the powder in the air, before turning my head back towards it.

The oni didn’t rise from the ground, didn’t come teleporting behind void stiles. It was gone. I killed it. It was dead.

I let out a sigh of relief, a smile breaking out on my face. Isaac smiled at me from the floor, despite the severe injuries on his chest. Kira continued fighting as I saw Allison turn towards me. I flashed a huge smile at Isaac before turning to her.

“Allison! You’re a genius! Did you see th-”

My sentence died in my mouth as a torturous and burning pain spread through my stomach. I whipped my head in front of me, meeting a smiling japanese demon mask. My mouth dropped, my eyebrows shooting up.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. All I did was feel. Feel the sharp, shredding pain searing through the middle of my stomach. I held onto the blade, feeling it in me as I tried to move it.

I heard Lydia somewhere, crying my name. It was piercing and rang through my head, the voice I missed so much.

The oni ripped it’s blade out of my stomach, my arms falling at my sides. I couldn’t do anything except watch. Watch as the red-coated katana ripped back out of my stomach.

My stomach hammered in my chest, my entire body becoming numb. My head was pounded as I watched everything in slow motion.

I could see movement all around me, but I couldn’t hear anything. The ground was like a magnet, pulling me towards it with all the strength it had. I surrendered to it, letting my body fall.

I felt something soft and warm. My eyes were open, seeing Isaac. His face turned back to human.

He cradled me, holding my shoulders and legs to him. His eyes were blown wide, his eyebrows knit together. His eyes went from my face to my stomach frantically.

All the sounds around me came back to me at once, hearing Isaac say my name. I was panting, feeling like the air around me was disappearing.

I was dying, I’m dying.

The oni had disappeared. Lydia.

“Did they find her? Is she okay? Is Lydia okay?” I breathed out as fast as I could. How much time do I have? I don’t want to go.

Isaac moved the hair from my face, looking into my eyes.

“She’s okay, they found her.” He said, nodding aggressively. He looked up, a tear rolling down his face.

“Scott! Help her!” He yelled, his voice wavering. He looked back down at me, my eyes never leaving his face.

His lips were pink, the corner red with his blood. His beautiful blue eyes were filled with so much sadness I couldn’t begin to perceive it.

I wanted to memorize his face. I wanted to remember every single detail. I swore to myself that even in an afterlife, where everything was forgotten, I would not forget him. I vowed it to myself.

Turning my head, I see Scott. Scott’s here. I felt him grab my hand that wasn’t being cradled and kissed by Isaac, squeezing it hard but not roughly. I watched him. His brows furrowed, his eyes filled with tears.

“I- I can’t.” His voice cracked, “I can’t take her pain.” He looked up at Isaac, who met his eyes. Scott stood up, his arm covering his mouth as he let out a cry.

“Scott? What do- what do you mean-” Isaac began.

“Isaac.” I whispered, my voice dying in my throat.

“What are you talking about? Help her! Please!” He yelled, his voice cracking as more tears fell down his face.

“Isaac.” I said louder, looking at the sky. The sky was so pretty. So vast and alluring, filled with memories of my childhood. Of my life.

“It’s because it doesn’t hurt.” I whispered out, entranced by the sky. Isaac looked at me, his other hand cradling my face.

“No. C’mon, baby, please. Don’t go. Don’t leave me.” He said, crying. Why was he sad? I felt so happy. Everything felt so light, I felt like I was floating.

“It’s okay.” I said, looking back at him. I nodded, convincing him. I would miss him.

He muttered my name once more, lightly rocking me back and forth as more cries left him.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” I repeated, whispering as I looked into his eyes. He shook his head, looking back at my stomach.

“Isaac. I love you.” I said, nodding. I needed him to know. I needed him to know.

He let out a sob, running his hands through my hair.

“And I love you. I love you. Don’t leave. Please, I- I can’t-” He said, gasping.

“It’s perfect.” I gasped, “I’m in the arms of the only person I’ve ever loved. The only person I’ll ever love. I’ll love you forever, Isaac. Isaac Lahey.” I said to him, breathing harder as I pressed a thumb against his lips, smearing the blood off. The air was leaving me. I wasn’t ready yet. I don’t want to go yet.

His face drew into despair, leaning closer to me to rest his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes, multiple tears falling down my face. I opened my eyes, the corner of my eyes starting to darken. I panicked.

Please, not yet. Just a little longer. Please, I don’t wanna go.

“You- You have to tell Chris. You have to tell my dad. You have to- you have to- tell-” I couldn’t finish my sentence, my lungs gasping as I tried to take a last breath

***

“No!” Isaac cried, cradling her face as her arms fell limp at her sides. Allison fell to her knees, crying out as Scott held her, sobbing with her. Allison couldn’t breathe, it hurt so bad. It hurts everywhere. Scott held her as tight as he could, burying his face in her hair.

Isaac held onto her, bringing her up to him so her head was in his shoulder. He rocked back and forth, repeating, “No, no, no, please, no.” into her hair.

Lydia lay in the corridor underground, head pressed to the ground. She was sobbing uncontrollably, the air escaping her and knocking against her lungs. She felt the ground underneath her collapsing into an endless abyss of agony. A wave of devastation, washing over Oak Creek.

Scott McCall’s pack and best friends watched as she took her last breath, closing her eyes as she fell into peace.

***

4 months earlier

I clutched my stomach in laughter, leaning over. Lydia and Allison leaned their heads on my shoulder and knee, also struggling to contain their laughter.

Stiles stood with his arms crossed, face flushed bright red. Scott was red from laughter, standing next to him with a huge smile on his face. Stiles shook his head, chuckling with us.

“Oh my god, Stilinski, you actually might be crazy.” I said, wiping the tears of laughter from my eyes.

“All that and she didn’t say yes?” Allison asked, slowly trying to stop laughing.

“Right? I was a catch!” Stiles said, flailing his hands and looking relieved someone had agreed with him. Isaac brought over chips for everyone, sitting on the ground next to me.

“No, I would’ve said no too.” Allison said, laughing again. Stiles pursed his lips, pretending to look mad but eventually bursting out into laughter.

“No, yeah, it was terrible.” He agreed.

Our laughter eventually died down, engaging in conversation between the entire group. Sodas and chips were shared late into the night.

“Okay, guys, it’s late and junior year starts tomorrow. We’re gonna feel like shit.” Lydia said, earning gasps from around the group. She rolled her eyes at the dramatic reaction, smiling as she pulled the blanket over her.

The lights turned off as everyone said their goodnights, Scott taking one couch and Stiles taking the other. Lydia was on a loveseat, Allison on a blow-up mattress. There was one mattress left, and I argued with Isaac that he could have it. I lost, pulling the blanket over myself on the mattress. Isaac did the same, sleeping right next to me on the floor.

An hour or so passed as I turned once again on the mattress, not being able to sleep. I turned to see Isaac, awake and already looking at me. We looked at each other in the darkness, Isaac flashing his werewolf eyes at me. I giggled, trying to keep quiet.

“Get over here.” I said to him, opening the blanket. He crawled over, jumping onto the mattress with an ‘oof.’ I slapped him playfully, both of us laughing as I told him to shut up.

Things had been different between us since that day in the forest. We’d grown closer, not being so snappy at each other. I got butterflies every time I was around him.

We stared at each other, inches away from each other. His hand traced the features of my face as I watched him. Watched the way he looked at me, as if I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“I almost don’t want to go to sleep, I’ll miss you too much.” Isaac whispered to me as his finger stayed on my lips.

“You’re so cheesy.” I said, earning a tap on my lips from him. He grinned at me, falling into an affectionate silence. My eyes started to close, drifting off into a sleep.

“It’s just until tomorrow.” I whispered slowly, dozing off.

“Until tomorrow.” I heard him whisper.

I chased the dream of junior year, of what it would bring. I was supposed to be nervous, going into the third year of high school. But I wasn’t. I’d be going in with my friends. With my family. And after all we’ve been through, what’s one more year?

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey x you #isaac lahey fanfiction #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf angst #isaac lahey angst #isaac lahey fluff #isaac lahey one shot

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

Text

A Lesson Learned

(NOT A PROMPT)

Hello :) Could you write a piece where the extremely flirtatious villain notices that the hero isn’t taking care of themselves and tries to get them to and promises not to do anything (capture them, etc), but (surprise!) then they do? Haha sorry if it’s a bit specific, adore your writing!

******

“Why, doll,” Villain cooed from behind the bench which Hero sat upon. The bench was old, wood in the process of rotting. Speaking of rot- Villain rounded the park bench, coming face to face with that once-handsome, now-perished face. “Don’t you just look like you sprang from Hell? Yeesh.”

Hero shrugged, not even caring that Villain was here to taunt him yet again- to pick at him with compliments. Usually, anyways. Now, she was insulting him. Did he really look that out of it? Hero felt like it, so it shouldn’t have been so surprising to him. “Don’t feel great- get out of here.”

“And do what? I’d miss the grumble in your voice too much. Come now, my dear, tell me what has that pretty hair of yours so tangled.” Villain’s hand grazed the locks atop Hero’s head, fingers skimming his scalp. She hummed her delight. “How pretty,” Villain whispered into Hero’s ear. “Even if it is greasy.”

“Look, I’m really not in the mood for this.”

Good God, what is that stench? Villain could gag- not could; Villain did gag on the smell. “When was the last time you showered, sugar?” Hero certainly didn’t smell like sugar, but it was in Villain’s nature to shoot a flirt at him anyways.

“Don’t know. Would you get your hand out of my hair?”

“You don’t know?” Villain sighed, dropping her hand and rounding the bench until she came to the front, facing Hero and his abnormally large eye sacks. “Oh, darling…” you have jellyfish beneath your eyes. “You should take better care of yourself. I could help you, you know?”

Hero’s eyes grew as wide as they could with eyelids made of lead. “Help me do what? Bathe?”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind helping you do that- think of how close we would be, my sweet doll.” She sat beside the broken-beyond-repair hero, dragging a fingertip along his dirtied pants. Villain sighed, slightly bored of this game of chess. Her flirtations were slipping away like a wet bar of soap. What an ironic comparison.

Villain said, “What I meant is this; I’ll give your handsomeness a break- or your ugliness, rather. You need to regain your looks, hence the break.”

Ignoring the insult, Hero said, dead-panned, “And I’m supposed to believe you.” A soft tut.

“Have I given you any reason not to? On this pretty night?”

“Beyond the not-so-subtle insults,” Hero thought aloud, and finished with, “I guess not.”

With a scoff, Villain said, “I wouldn’t call those insults. I could have said much worse- and anyways, you know I’m a tease. I feel even more concerned that you’ve forgotten such a vital detail about me. More reason to leave you alone. Right, my love?”

“I still don’t know if I believe you.”

“Why would it matter what I did or didn’t do when you don’t even care to look after yourself?”

She makes a good point. Still… “What would you do then?” Hero didn’t particularly care to have this conversation right now, but- well, he was a hero. Even if he were too exhausted to take care of himself, it was still his responsibility to protect the people. Just because Villain was saying she’d leave Hero alone didn’t mean she’d leave the citizens alone.

“What would I do? Sulk, mostly. I’d miss your pretty little face while I sat alone on my couch.”

“Right. Because I always sit on a couch with you.”

“There’s a taste of that precious fire. You’re beautiful when you’re sarcastic- and healthy.”

Hero sighed. It didn’t matter what he said, did it? He could tell Villain she looked like a horse’s rear-end mixed with a jackal’s paw and she’d continue sticking around. “You said you’d give me a break.” Of course, Hero still didn’t believe Villain’s words. It was her one and only nature to torment him with pointless compliments- and harmful insults apparently.

As if I didn’t already know I look like crap. I’m tired; that’s all. No motivation to do anything but sit on the park bench. He didn’t even feel like getting up to stretch his legs, despite knowing it needed to be done. Hero would rather deal with the aches of standing than to be forced into using so much energy while sitting. How draining it was- standing up from his position now. That’s why he stayed put, even with Villain’s hand circling in his hair once again.

This time, the hand in Hero’s hair was actually soothing. The tender scrape of Villain’s nails against his scalp. The gentle pull through the hair as her fingers caught on tangles, though the larger knots were a tad painful. Hero hummed his delight at the two former feelings, finding himself leaning into the arm which offered such relief.

On a regular day, one not so adorned with absent motivation and sourness, Hero would have slapped Villain’s hand away- would have told her to go find a dog in the park to pet. Naturally, he would have regretted saying it, thinking that Villain might claw its eyes out instead of petting it. Okay, maybe she wouldn’t do something that serious, but she might have stepped on a puppy’s tail, making it screech- if only to horrify the owner.

“Isn’t this a nice break, sugar?” Villain asked, but, of course, there was more to it than this scalp massage. When Hero fell asleep, with his head on Villain’s shoulder, she would give herself a break- not him.

******

Eyes still closed from having just woken up, Hero pulled his shoulder back against the hard- hard? I thought I was in- His eyes cracked open.

White ceiling. Or, mostly white, at least. There was some water damage that Hero could see even through his blurry and freshly woken eyes. The yellow and orange stains did not belong on his ceiling.

He shifted slightly, body still stiff, but he wasn’t willing to stretch yet- just in case there was…a certain someone…paying attention. Damn Villain, Hero thought, because who else’s home could he be in if it weren’t his own?

It was with this thought in mind that Hero sat up. No use in lounging around. Better off to find a way out before Villain-

“Nice to see those starlit eyes of yours.”

Great. Turning his head, he saw Villain casually sprawled across a couch.

Well, one thing was for certain; Hero had the motivation to get up and run again. At least he could thank Villain for something, even if it were simply the desire to escape.

Sitting up, slowly and stiffly, Hero said, “A break. You were supposed to give me a break. It’s what you said, what you told me you’d do. You would give me a break to take care of myself and you would sulk.”

He could almost imagine Villain’s voice answering with an easy lull, ‘I didn’t say what the break would entail, love.’ Love. Darling. Doll. My dear. Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting.

“I gave you a break. Two of them, if we’re being technical. The massage and the shelter. Actually,” Villain smiled at him from her couch cushion, eyes closing just slightly as her cheeks gathered higher and higher. “I might call it liberation- instead of a break. Infinite freedom versus periods of mass depression and showerless nights.”

Hero felt his jaw tick. “What are you talking about?” he asked, voice low- just the way Villain liked.

He wasn’t helping his case any, now, was he? Being all cutesy. It only allowed Villain to enjoy this whole situation more.

“You wake up in your stalker’s home and don’t even think to check your body for modifications? What a pity you are sometimes,” Villain giggled. She meant it as a compliment; it was her way of calling the hero cute and favourable.

Stalker. Well, Villain might as well have been considered as such. She showed up just about everywhere Hero was, only to hold hostages for no other reason than to have control over someone, to hear the fear in their high whines- and to see the fear glistening low in their eyes. Villain was wicked, and she was wicked always in Hero’s presence. Stalker- maybe that’s what the news would start calling her if they, or Hero, ever managed to stop Villain.

Villain grew impatient with Hero’s procrastination of observation. “Explore yourself, won’t you?”

And Hero did now. He looked down his arms, torso, legs, anything that was in his perspective, but there was nothing out of the ordinary, except- “Do not tell me you actually washed me.” His arms were speck and dead-skin cleaned.

“A wet rag against your arms and legs, nothing else.”

Hero simply took her word for it, trying not to imagine how he’d feel if she were lying. How horrendous.

Then what is it? Nothing- absolutely nothing- was irregular, so why was Villain going on about…Hero’s fingers skimmed something along his neck- one of the few things he couldn’t see with his own eyes.

No…no. Not just along his neck. There was something inside of Hero’s neck. “What did you do to me?” His voice came out as a horrifyingly quiet whisper, one that squeaked in the back of his throat.

“You wouldn’t take care of yourself, Hero. I had to step in.”

“I don’t- no. No. Whatever you’re doing, you- you need to- I need to go home. I need you to stay away from me and I need- I need-” Oh no. Was he hyperventilating? He couldn’t- God, he couldn’t breathe. Hero was panicking, scratching at his neck, at the irregular shaped lumps. Get out. Get. Out. Getout. Getout. Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout.

A gasp sounded in the room as Hero’s head hit the ground, trying to dodge the zap that occurred at the front of his throat, right where he was scratching so madly.

“Well, I guess that’s a lesson learned rather quickly. Darling, you didn’t even know what those were, and yet you were trying to rip them out. It might have killed you.”

“Uhah.”

Villain quirked her head to the side. “Didn’t get that, sorry. Must have fried your vocal cords- better that than you build up a bunch of infectious bacteria.” Truth be told, the zap wasn’t so bad that it would permanently damage Hero- only give him little tics and make him fret.

“You’ll be so very happy that I took that rag over your skin- otherwise you’d have woken up to your own stench while I was injecting the little stun rods. That would have been difficult,” Villain laughed, legs extending until they laid on the arm of the couch.

“Now,” Villain piped, “there is an outfit laid out in the bathroom- down this hall here”- she pointed- “and second door to the right. Get a shower, bath, whatever you want, and get dressed. I have plans and I’m not leaving you here alone.”

Swerving her legs over the arm- despite having just put them there- Villain planted her feet on the ground and placed her elbows near her knees, leaning forward, all amount of humour aside. “I’m the only one who gets to torment you, you hear me? Not even you have my permission to do harm to yourself or otherwise slack in personal healthcare. If you are in any kind of bad condition, it will be because I allowed it. M’kay?”

She stood, walked several paces to where Hero still sat on the floor and patted his cheek. “I’m making myself food before we leave and while you take a shower. Don’t disappoint me by trying to escape, my dove. You’re in my cage now.” Villain gave Hero a tap on the head as she pulled a remote control out of her pocket with her other hand. For extra measure, she held one of the buttons for three seconds, sending Hero onto his back once again, writhing on the floor- though avoiding scratching his neck.

A lesson learned indeed.

“Believe it or not, I do intend to be kind to you. I just wanted to show you what happens if you decide you’re not worth taking care of again.”

One last click of the button and she was gone, leaving a panting hero behind in the dust.

#NOT A PROMPT #request fill #A Lesson Learned #2038 words #As you may have noticed- I found a new way to answer asks without having to officially answer them.#Requests are still *only valid when sent through an ask.* I just won't be answering them with a link anymore since I've been having so much #trouble with notes. I stopped writing stories in asks because I like to have titles for easy reference (on both our ends).#Anyways. No change worth mentioning- just different formatting <3 #AGAIN- Requests are only accepted when sent as an ask (just as usual :) <3)#hero x villain #hero x villain story #hero x villain drabble #hero x villain snippet #possessive villain #possessive whumper #villain whumper #hero whumpee #evil villain #good hero #hero #villain #heroes and villains #hero and villain story #hero and villain drabble #hero and villain snippet #whump #whumper #whumpee #intimate whumper #intimate villain

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cuddlepilefics · 3 years

Text

Ginger Ale and Crackers

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Felix

Caregiver: Chan & Changbin

Prompt; @sicktember

No one's POV.:

About halfway through their afternoon dance practice, Felix' stomach had started to give him hard time. All the jumps they had been practicing had left his stomach unsettled. He had felt hesitant to drink anything during their breaks, afraid the next jump or turn would send it right back up his throat. That hadn't happened but Felix had admittedly barely had any water during the afternoon, so it wasn't much of a surprise that by the end of their practice, his head felt swimmy while also pounding painfully. With how much he had been sweating, he clearly had to be dehydrated, yet he was still unsure whether he should have a drink. They were done with practice, so there wouldn't be any more jumps but the thought of swallowing alone almost made him gag. Felix himself had no idea why he was suddenly feeling so bad. He had been fine this morning and hadn't eaten anything weird since then. Maybe he had just overdone it with his dancing, going all out, but that was what he usually did, yet he never felt like this after dancing. Looking at his water bottle with an almost disgusted expression, the Aussie shoved it into his bag and waited for his members to pack up, so that they could head home. He was exhausted, almost too exhausted to take a shower but he knew he'd be uncomfortable all night if he didn't.

Not daring to eat dinner for the fear of upsetting his stomach more, Felix crawled into bed right after taking a shower. He had been plagued with cramps the entire time he was in the shower and had barely managed to stand up straight, wanting to curl up into a tiny ball right there. When Chan came into their shared room to get the younger for dinner, he found the boy deeply asleep, hugging his pillow to his middle. Not having the heart to wake his dongsaeng, the leader left and quietly closed the door behind him. He made sure to save Felix some food in case he woke up hungry before telling the rest of the members to keep it down a bit. The next one to check on Felix was his other roommate Changbin. After dinner he went to their shared room to collect his headphones, finding the Aussie tangled in his sheets, groaning quietly. It worried him a bit, knowing how hard the younger had been working lately. Seeing him this exhausted was just heartbreaking for the rapper. He too decided not to disturb his dongsaeng, hoping he would get as much rest as somehow possible. It felt wrong to see their energetic sunshine like this.

Felix had stayed asleep the entire time, no matter how loud the rest of the members in the living room were. He didn't even hear his roommates come and get ready for bed. All he knew was that by the time he woke up again, both of them were sleeping peacefully in their beds. Unlike Felix, who had woken up in cold sweat. His breath got caught in his throat when he was hit with another cramp, the pain unexpectedly intense. Whimpering quietly, he felt his stomach turn, now more than certain that he was going to be sick. Felix heart sped up, knowing he had to get to the bathroom fast but afraid he'd be sick immediately if he as much as moved a single muscle. With adrenaline rushing through his veins, he rolled out of bed, hand clamped tightly over his mouth as he stumbled to the door. Throwing it open, he staggered down the hallway, dizzily crashing into the wall next to him. As he fought to get his footing, his stomach cramped, sending a gush of his lunch up. Feeling the warm mush spill through his fingers, the Aussie's eyes stung with tears. He tried to avoid the puddle as he dragged himself to the bathroom, collapsing to his knees in front of the toilet, instantly throwing up more.

Chan awoke with a start to their door slamming against the wall. Shooting up in his bed, he found Changbin awake as well, looking at the older with a horrified expression. Only a few seconds later, they heard a muffled cough followed by a splattering noise. Cursing, Chan got out of bed and hurried down the hallway, only barely avoiding the puddle of sick. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, light streaming through the crack. Hearing faint cries behind the door, the leader rushed to find Felix draped over the toilet, head buried in the toilet bowl. The dancer startled when he felt his hyung's hand on his back. "Ssh, you're okay", Chan promised, rubbing his back. Felix wanted to laugh at him, telling him that he was very much not okay, but before he was able to get a single word out, his stomach lurched again, a large wave of his lunch splashing into the bowl. Changbin had followed them not long after, frowning when he saw the position his friends were in. Felix' chest was hitching with quiet sobs, which certainly didn't help his stomach settle. Retching again, the dancer reached behind him and took a hold of Chan's had. He clutched onto it tightly as he kept throwing up. When he finally got a chance to breathe, he rasped: "Can you turn off the light? It's too bright." Changbin was quick to comply while Chan continued to rub his dongsaeng's back. "Do you have a migraine?", he asked carefully, afraid his voice would hurt the other more. Felix shook his head, gagging weakly before he was able to reply: "My stomach's been bothering me since dance practice."

Sighing, Chan brushed his hand against Felix' neck. "You're running a fever too. Is that new or did it start along with your stomach", he hummed worriedly. Giving a strained cough, the dancer groaned: "I don't know? I just knew that my stomach felt bad, so I wanted to sleep it off. Oh god, please make it stop." Before Chan could say anything, Felix had ducked his head into the bowl again, retching painfully. While the leader tried his best to comfort the younger, Changbin went over to the sink and ran a washcloth under cool water before draping it across the dancer's neck. They could barely see anything as the only light source was the hallway light streaming through the cracked door but they didn't have to see much, the short glance they had gotten earlier had been enough to see how ghostly pale their dongsaeng was. Felix seemed to be done for now and tiredly rested his head on his arms. He just wanted to go back to sleep. That was when he remembered the mess he had made on his way. "Ugh, I -I got sick in the hallway too", he whimpered, raising his head to look at his hand. Looking at the bits of his lunch still stuck to his hand only triggered another gag. When Felix was done, the tears wouldn't stop falling, his fever messing with his emotions. Handing him a wad of toilet paper to clean his hand with, Changbin whispered: "I'll clean that up... don't move."

While the rapper fetched the cleaning supplies and took care of the mess in the hallway, Chan stayed with Felix, helping him up from the floor, so he could wash his hands properly and handing him some mouthwash to get rid of the vile taste. As they made their way back to their room, Felix shakily clung to the leader's arm, his head spinning. "You're okay, almost there", the older promised, when Felix' legs suddenly gave out. Catching him around the waist, Chan picked him up bridal style and carried him the last few meters to his bed. The sheets were a mess and it took the oldest a while to detangle them, so he could tuck his dongsaeng in. Placing a bottle of water on the nightstand and pulling the trashcan out from under the desk, Changbin hummed: "Here's the trashcan if you need it. Try having some water when you feel ready, we don't want you to get dehydrated." – "Thanks", the younger rasped quietly, eyes already fluttering shut. Falling asleep however wasn't as easy. His stomach was still in knots, rumbling loudly. "Was your stomach making all that noise?", Changbin frowned, sitting down on the edge of the mattress, sliding his hand under Felix' shirt. The dancer hummed in confirmation, relaxing as the older stroked his stomach in soothing circles.

By the time Chan had to get up for a meeting with their managers, Felix had been up retching over the trashcan twice. Neither times was he able to bring anything up though, which wasn't surprising, considering he had skipped dinner and had barely had anything to drink. Although he hated to wake his members when they were sleeping, Chan carefully woke Changbin up by shaking his arm. "Hey, could you stay back from the studio today?", he asked quietly, afraid to leave Felix at the dorm by himself, "I'll tell the others to just go to their schedules as usual and come check on you two as soon as the meeting's over." – "No problem, I couldn't focus anyway, knowing he'd be sick and alone. I got him, hyung, don't stress too much", Changbin whispered, waving the older goodbye before going back to sleep.

The rapper woke up again hours later to a weight on his chest. Yawning, he tried to sit up, only to find himself pinned down. "Sorry, I was cold", Felix mumbled lowly. He had woken up not too long ago, his stomach still hurting but not as nauseous as he had been before. Instead, he was shaking with chills. Bringing his hand up to the Aussie's forehead, Changbin hummed: "Your fever's up. Did you try to drink anything yet?" The dancer shook his head not even opening his eyes. He really didn't want to be sick again, so he wasn't willing to risk it. "You're getting dehydrated, Lixxie. Isn't your head hurting?", he frowned, running his hand through his dongsaeng's hair. "It is", Felix admitted quietly, "But so are my stomach and throat. I'm fine as long as we just stay like this." Sighing, Changbin decided that they could stay like that for a little while longer before he'd try to get the younger to drink something again.

It was already close to lunchtime when Changbin decided he wouldn't let Felix go without having at least some water. Luckily, the Aussie was awake, merely resting with his eyes closed, because the rapper didn't think he could wake the boy. "Come on, Lix", he whispered, "At least have a few sips and if you let me get up, I can go and see if we have any medicine. Just not consuming anything isn't going to help. It'll only make you worse." – "Hyung", the dancer whined, holding onto Changbin's shirt, "Please, no." Though Felix had his hyung wrapped around his little finger, the older knew better than to give in. He wouldn't let his dongsaeng get worse. If Felix wasn't getting up, he would have to get the Aussie off of himself. Carefully shifting to the side, Changbin managed to slip out underneath the younger and gently removed his hands from his shirt. "Sorry", the older cooed, pulling the blanket up to Felix' shoulders and leaving the room.

Rummaging through the bathroom cabinet, Changbin found some anti-emetics and made his way to the kitchen. He knew Felix didn't want anything but after skipping dinner and throwing up, the dancer needed something in his system. Guessing that plain rice would be the safest option, Changbin grabbed a small bowl and took it back to their room. Felix' water bottle was still untouched on the nightstand. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he ran his hand up and down his dongsaeng's back. "Can you sit up for me, Lix?", he hummed, peeling the blanket back. The Aussie let out a discontent whine but propped himself up on one arm. "Can you try and have a few bites of rice and some water for me? I also found you medicine", the rapper tried. Shaking his head, Felix insisted: "No, medicine yes but the rest no." – "How are you going to get the medicine down without water?", Changbin quizzed, "Come on, sunshine, for me?" The dancer huffed but shuffled around till he sat up against the headboard. Accepting the bowl of rice from his hyung, Felix eyed the food with disgust before forcing himself to take a small bite into his mouth. Slowly chewing, he pulled a face and handed the bowl back. Changbin didn't take it back though, instead giving the younger a stern look. Pouting, Felix forced down two more bites before handing the bowl back to his hyung, who traded it for the water. He also handed the dancer a pill, which he swallowed dry before taking one tiny sip of water. "Lix, I'm pretty sure you're already dehydrated. You did so well, I'm sure you can take another sip", Changbin hummed, earning a glare from the younger. Though he didn't want to, Felix had some more water before handing the bottle back.

His food wasn't settling at all and mere minutes later, Felix sat hugging his churning tummy as his mouth watered. "H-Hyung?!", he choked out, hand clamped over his mouth as his stomach gurgled. Noticing the boy's slightly greenish complexion, Changbin rushed to place the trashcan into his lap. He knew he had been pushing it but he had hoped the medicine would keep him from throwing up again. Sitting down next to the dancer, Changbin gently massaged his shoulders as they waited. With his breathing coming in nauseous little huffs, Felix felt the room spin around him, desperately holding onto the trashcan to steady himself. He could feel his food right at the back of his throat but it wasn't coming. Hesitantly, he gave a little cough, which was all it took for his stomach to send everything up. Though he was pretty sure, everything he had just consumed had come up in one rush, Felix couldn't stop his throat from contracting with unproductive gags. Coughing, he choked out: "I hate you." – "I know you do", Changbin sighed, comfortingly rubbing the younger's back and brushing his sweaty bangs from his forehead. He felt sorry for making the Aussie sick again but if he kept going without keeping down any water, they'd have to take him to hospital.

When Felix finally deemed it safe to remove his head from the trashcan and lean back against the headboard, his forehead was glistening with sweat. His shirt clung to him making him feel even more disgusting than before. Changbin grabbed the trashcan and placed it down on the floor. "Let's take that off, hm?", he asked, gently pulling the dancer's shirt over his head, "Are you still cold? Do you want one of my hoodies as compensation?" Felix nodded tiredly, barely finding the energy to lift his arms, so the older could put it on him. "How about a change of scenery? The others are gone, so you could nap on the couch. We could put on some boring drama in the background", the rapper offered. Nodding, Felix rasped: "Sounds like fun but... Can you carry me? I don't think I can make it there." – "Sure thing", Changbin chuckled, picking the younger up. Placing him down on the couch, he told the dancer to wait there, so he could get a bucket and his water in case the Aussie would let himself be talked into drinking something. After getting everything settled, he lifted Felix' head and placed it on his lap, so he could play with the younger's hair. Exhausted from the whole ordeal, it didn't take long for Felix to drift off again.

While Felix was asleep, Changbin texted Chan about the dancer's condition, emphasizing that he really couldn't keep anything down at all. Now becoming more worried too, the leader stopped by a store to pick up some ginger ale and crackers for his dongsaeng. He hoped those things would settle better, at least he knew that that was what their families had always used in such situations. If it didn't help settle his stomach, it might at least give the younger a sense of home. While walking, Chan already started to shake the bottle of ginger ale, opening it repeatedly to get rid of the fizz. He quietly entered their dorm, not wanting to wake Felix up if he was resting. The sight looked truly pitiful. The dancer laying on the couch with his head in Changbin's lap, face white as a ghost except for a faint feverish blush on his cheekbones. He was wearing one of Changbin's sweaters, arms hugging his middle in his sleep. Chan wordlessly waved at Changbin, not wanting to disturb as he went to the kitchen to pour a glass of ginger ale. He also grabbed a small plate and put a few crackers on it. They looked really lonely but he'd already be happy if he could convince Felix of having a few of them.

Hearing a hushed conversation in the living room, the leader figured Felix had woken up and made his way over to them. "Hey, Binnie told me you're still not doing so well", he whispered with a sympathetic smile. The dancer shook his head and glanced at the things Chan was carrying. Realizing he was most likely supposed to eat that, he couldn't help but grimace already. Crouching next to the couch, Chan rubbed his arm through the hoodie and hushed: "I know you don't feel like eating that but we need to get you back on your feet somehow. You always used to eat those, right? Don't even have to be many crackers." Groaning, Felix sat up and rubbed his face. He knew Chan was only trying to help, Changbin too had meant well but his stomach was till so upset. He didn't think he could stomach anything. "I got all the fizz out of the ginger ale, so hopefully it will settle a better", the oldest mused, glancing at the box of medicine Changbin had left on the table, "Have a cracker and then just try having this medicine again, please?" Scrunching up his nose, Felix nodded and accepted one of the crackers. He took his time, nibbling on it. It didn't feel that bad on his stomach, so he nibbled down another one. The ginger ale really reminded him of home and he gladly took the medicine again. Sitting on the couch, he rested his head on Changbin's shoulder. Every once in a while, he took a small sip until the glass was empty and he laid back down to let the older lure him back to sleep.

#stray kids #skz #fanfic #fluff #sickfic #fanfiction #sick #sicktember2021 #comfort #emeto #changlix #chanlix

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palbabor-writes · 3 years

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oh my god! your writing is amazingggg. may i please have a creepy! shiggy, dabi or hawks whichever one is easier for you where they really like the reader so they do yk normal creepy stuff like stealing her underwear and humping her bed and one day they get caught and they thought she’d be disgusted but she’s lowkey into it and she’s just super sweet and praising and a HUGE SERVICE TOP. I think they just need some good pussy 😔 if you decide to do this then THANK YOUUUU

｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ you’re too nice nonnie & tysm. i’m glad you’re here!

warnings: general degeneracy, masterbation, handjobs, SMUT, panty sniffin’

You make a point to leave your room unlocked.

Oh, you’ll switch it up, every so often, just so he has something to work for, but you prefer to pressure him with a time crunch instead of a locked door. It’s always so much fun. You make a show of dashing up the steps, feet thudding heavily on the warped wood. Then, right when you’re on the threshold, gosh, how could you be so daft, so thoughtless! You’d left your supplies downstairs, again! You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to your shoulders. Silly, silly, silly.

The display does what you need it to, namely, giving him the chance to slink away. He’s always whisper quiet when he creeps into your space, it’s a miracle you’d caught him. But, even super-villains find themselves on the back foot sometimes, and boy, was he clumsy about this.

It wasn’t like him. That was the slip up. No, his one, original, mistake was a simple one.

He’d left evidence of his arousal, of his lewd, heated, heart thudding, want. It was tacky, sticky, absolutely dripping with the milky residue of him. He’d tried to bury it deep, pressing it down into the bowels of your hamper, likely praying that it would remain hidden and you wouldn’t question it further when you did stumble upon it, hopefully weeks later.

You didn’t like to leave your hamper open and you certainly never, ever, left it beside your bed. It had been another long day and, at first, you’d only given it a swift glance, replaying the events of the night before. Maybe you’d lugged it over, too tired to pace the small distance? You had been in a rush. It was plausible.

Kicking your boots to the floor, you raise a hand to lower the lid of your plastic hamper when you spot the cascade of clothing. Again, it’s a tiny, tiny, fragment, but he should know better. It’s your job to notice the small, the obscure. Retcon is your bread and butter and this is too much, too tempting to ignore.

Fingers follow the hollowed space his arm has left behind and you hit the panties, seconds later. They’re warm, wet, and you clutch them into your palm and pull.

Fuck.

The lace is soaking. Fresh lines of cum run in thick rivulets, falling down your upturned hand and along your wrist, dribbling onto your bare feet. For a moment, you can’t seem to process the image that’s before you, your mind whirring through the possibilities, the faces. Who...no...which one of them did this?

The next morning, you’re quiet. It’s not unnatural. After all, it’s freaking 7 am, no one at the bar is talking. As you sip on your chilled, canned, coffee, your eyes carefully size up the men who are lounged around you.

Shigaraki is perusing a newspaper, the pallid hand of father obscuring his face, but you can still catch sight of the red glint of his eyes. He looks bored. He hadn’t even looked up when you walked in, his back bowed and head down, engrossed in his search.

Dabi is perched on one of the dilapidated couches, his long legs curled under him, flicking a bashed lighter, open and closed, open and closed. Like Shigaraki, he hadn’t lifted his gaze to you at first. He had, however, answered a question. Just the one, when you’d asked him if he had found any newbies, any potential recruits. He’d snarked his reply, his cerulean irises latching onto you with a cruel sharpness. No was his answer and you hadn’t pressed for any further elaboration.

Compress was shuffling a deck of cards. Spinner was ticking through his phone. Twice was chittering with Toga. Nothing was out of the ordinary. You finish your breakfast and tell them that you’re heading out.

No one replies.

******

Unsurprisingly, it happened again.

It’s a different pair of panties but the glisten of the cum is the same. So is the lowered placement, the bevel of the clothes, and the position of the hamper. However, it’s a little more calculated this time around. The lid is closed and there are no traces of his entry, no cuts or nicks on the door handle or key hole, no scattering of your things, no dip on your bed. There’s nothing.

Alright. Two can play at this game.

The hamper is moved, strategically maneuvered into the bathroom that your room holds. You’re careful to leave the lid propped. It looks haphazard, but it takes a precise click of the plastic to lock it into that position. You’ll be able to tell if it’s been moved.

You tug your panties out of your dresser and count them, noting the colors, patterns, the imperfections in the lace. If you’re going to do this, you need to know what you’re working with. The inventory must be precise, each variant recognized and tallied.

Every day, it’s a rinse and repeat process. Yank the flutter of fabrics out, spread them across your sheets and count. It’s tedious, bordering on annoying, but you wanna know. It’s like an itch. It sits right where you can’t reach and it tickles at the back of your mind. Besides, you’ve always liked a good puzzle. Although, this isn’t quite what you had in mind, you’ll take it and you’ll solve it, if it’s the last thing you do.

Two days after you start this mind-numbing task, four pairs go missing.

******

It’s late when you stumble back into the hideout, padding past the darkened bar and up the steps. The mission, despite its lower ranking, and pay, you think bitterly, had taken almost three days. Thankfully, the information you’d gleaned was worth it, but you’re exhausted. You’re wiping a sleepy hand across your face when you notice your door.

It’s ajar.

Instinctually, you fall to your haunches, tip toeing toward the crack, eyes narrowed, fingers curled into fists. The room is pitch black but there’s something, no, someone, in there. You can make out their outline. It’s a jagged cut that sits upon your bed and you can hear the tiny hitches and groans that they’re gasping out.

As your eyes adjust, you can see more. Your knees fall to the floor, digging into the wood and you steady yourself against the wall, eyes wide. He’s propped along your pillows and his hand is working over himself, using the friction of another pair of your panties to rub himself to completion. You can’t make out the exact shape of his cock but from the rapid fire tugs of his fist you can tell it’s long. It must be thick too, since he needs to adjust his pulls toward the tip.

He’s quiet, but you can still hear the catches and moans he’s making. Your name slips out too and the utterance makes your mouth go dry. So that’s who it is. Well, wonders never cease.

In the months that you’d known him, he hasn’t paid you much mind. Even through the haze of this strange obsession, he hasn’t altered his day to day routine, hasn’t broken character, hasn’t spoken to you unless the situation absolutely called for it.

Damn. It’s too much, it’s way, way...no. No. It’s not that it’s too much, you think, mesmerized by the sight that’s splayed across your sheets. It’s nowhere near enough.

You want to march in there, yank your soiled panties off his dick and hear what kind of noises he would make for you then. Would he shove you off, or would he welcome your notice? Either way, he’s too close now.

His hips have started to rut upwards, unable to resist the rhythm he’s created. The moans have drifted into hisses and his back arches when he cums, those familiar ropes of white splashing across the pastel of your lace. He’s careful to catch the drops, pinching the end of his cock and shuddering at the overstimulation. As he sits up, you cautiously rise, unsteady on your wobbling legs.

You’re halfway down the stairs when your door shuts. His footsteps recede down the hallway and you can hear him as he thuds into his own space, the click of his lock reverberating in your ears.

******

Thus, the game of cat and mouse continues.

Outwardly, neither of you reveal your hand, keeping your cards close to the chest, out of each others line of sight. Your door locks, unlocks, and you keep losing more panties. You’ve marked the one that will make the difference. It’s your new, favorite, pair. You haven’t worn them yet, but they’re a lush item, expensive, luxuriant, an excess that you don’t usually allow yourself. You’d purchased them the day after you’d finally caught sight of him. You couldn’t help it.

Most people, you reason, would be horrified by this situation, but not you. Oh no, you’re so turned on you can barely sleep. You start to masterbate in the early evening, when you know the others are moving around, your fingers trailing past your dampened curls, a careful fingernail pricking along your clit. You’ve even left your door open, cracked, welcoming the attention of anyone passing by. Once, you could have sworn you’d heard him. The whisper of that gasp, imagined or not, had bowled you over, your thighs clamping around your wrist, your cunt pulsing around nothing, hungry, slathering, desperate for more.

You want to just toss those panties on your bed and provoke the interaction. Goddamnit, how much longer is he gonna make you wait?

******

Not even 24 hours later, they’re gone.

He’s getting reckless, too. Your hamper is knocked over, the dresser drawer that holds your underwear is a crumpled mess, and he’s deliberately left a vacant hole where the panties used to lay. It’s screaming for your attention and you can feel your heartbeat thrumming against your breast.

Finally.

The next mission you’re assigned is easy, too easy. It’s mid-afternoon and there’s no reason for you to be back this early. Well, that’s an oversimplification. There is a perfectly excellent reason for you to be back, you’re just hoping the sliver of intel that was dropped for you will pay off.

Apparently, while the rest of you were out pounding the pavement, he’s elected to stay behind. He had something he needed to take care of.

“It sounded important,” Toga informed you, her voice lilting, rising with that sharp toothed smile of hers.

“Why are you telling me this,” you’d asked her, biting your lip and crossing your legs, soothing the throb that’s pricking in your core.

“He just told me to tell you, didn’t ask him anything more. You know how he is. He can be, prickly,” Toga winks, popping her head to the side, bouncing her golden locks.

“Alright,” you reply, adding a mask of disdain and disinterest to your performance. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

Lies, lies.

So many fucking lies, but he must know that you realize, that you know. Why else enlist Toga? He hated having to lay things out. No, he must know, he has to.

The bar is empty and the upper floors are deathly still.

Your door is sensibly shut but you can make out his jerks, his gasps, and those choked whimpers that echo past the flimsy wood. Your hand catches against the knob and you take one, last, steadying breath.

Here we go.

When you swing the door open he startles upward, his white hair curtaining the flush of his cheeks. Those vermillion irises land on you and he vaults away, nearly tumbling off the side of your bed. His pants are still bunched around his thighs, so that hinders him from making a true getaway. As he’s fumbling with the dark material, you don’t miss the shake of his hands and the spread of that lovely blush.

Oh, this is too perfect.

Before he can finish tucking himself back in his pants, you’re dashing across the top of your bed, ignoring the discarded panties, ignoring the dark glare that he gives you, ignoring everything but that heated bulge that’s giving him so much trouble.

Impatient, your fingers curl around his wrists and you use the millisecond of surprise that your swift action has gifted you. With a low gasp, he falls forward, his knees sinking into the softness of your mattress. One hand lowers to brace himself, but he’s careful to keep a finger arched away, preserving the permanence of your bed. Before he can get his bearings, you’re pressing him onto his back, straddling his lean hips and lowering those dark pants back down.

His cock, badly concealed by the upper line of his boxers, springs out, curving proudly toward his muscled stomach. For his part, Shigaraki squirms under you, his scarred lip set in a forbidding scowl. His deadly hands lower to yours, but you ignore his unspoken threat, knocking his trembling digits away. Your fingers lace around his cock, squeezing at the heft of him, stroking up the spidery veins and grooves until he’s dropping his defiant head back against your sheets.

“Wh-what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls, his raspy voice halting over the question.

“Who? Me?” you laugh, tugging a few more gasps from his shaking lips. There’s a pale strand of precum that’s leaking from his tip and you brush your thumb over it, gathering it against the pad and using it to ease your motions. His hips buck up and he shoves himself into your fist, a long string of curses slipping through his clenched teeth.

“I don’t think you get to ask that, dear leader,” you tease, leaning over his prone form. You’re glad he’s forgone wearing that creepy hand. It hadn’t even come into your calculations of how all of this would go. “No, not with the way you’ve been behaving.”

“I-I didn’t...fuck–”

“What? Didn’t think I’d find out?”

“You’re not supposed to be here. I sent you on that– ah– that mission for a reason,” Shigaraki bites out, shifting away from your close inspection. You smile at his discomfort and cup your free hand around his chin, yanking him back to you, forcing him to look up.

“That’s too bad, cus’ I finished early. Looks like I’m just that good, huh?”

He’s seething up at you, his eyes gleaming in the low light of your room, but he’s not making any attempts to leave. He may want to, but it seems his body has other plans. His cock is swelling as you pick up your tempo, your fingers clenching and releasing as you go, edging him along.

“You ever fucked a girl?” you ask, leaning back to admire the tense enjoyment of the man under you. The muscles of his stomach, coil and writhe, flexing each time you hit his tip and relaxing as you make the swift pass back down.

“N-no,” he moans, jerking his hips up, silently demanding that you pick up the pace.

“Did you want to?” you whisper, lowering to his face again, letting your soft lips trace along his temple. His skin is rough, but you like the contrast. Shigaraki seems to enjoy it too, his eyes slipping behind his eyelids as he turns toward you. When he doesn’t answer, you slow the hand that’s passing over the strain of his length. Shigaraki hisses at the shift and his eyes pop open again. They burn as they blaze up at you, clearly echoing his displeasure.

“Asked you a question,” you scold. He’s quiet for a long breath, but, after a few tense seconds, he lowers his eyes and nods, his jaw tight. “Should I take that as a yes?”

“I want you to fuck me,” Shigaraki grumbles, flashing a quick glare your way. “Was that clear enough for you?”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, one delicate eyebrow arching at his disgruntled expression.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he huffs, grimacing as you lift your hand from him, freeing yourself to yank your shirt off.

“What do you want me to call you?” you ask, unbuttoning your jeans and easing them down the curve of your hips.

“My fucking name.”

“Shigaraki?”

“No. Tomura,” he replies, his voice falling into that deep rasp again. He’s watching you closely and you grin down at his frank assessment.

“Alright, Tomura,” you begin, testing out the unfamiliar acknowledgement. “Let’s make this good for you, hmm? What are you wanting to try first?”

He’s silent and you can hear the grinding of his teeth. “What’s better for you?”

Oh. Well, that’s not a question you were expecting. “For me? Uh, I guess I prefer to be on top. Let’s me control things and–”

“So do that,” he shrugs, finally peeling those dark pants off his long legs. He leaves his shirt on, but it doesn’t matter, if you’re riding him it’s not like you can’t tuck your hands under the tattered fabric.

“After acting like such a creep, you’re being pretty nonchalant about all of this,” your fingers wander along his sides and he shudders again, his neck bowing off the bedding.

“You’re one to fucking talk. Think I didn’t know what you were doing?”

“Ha! Well, well. No wonder you took my bait so easily. When did you figure me out?”

“That night you sat outside your door and watched me,” his hands raise to your hips and he urges you to hurry up, grunting when your dripping cunt traces over his tip. “Then you left your fucking door open. Not just once, either, no, you did it for days. It was a whole fucking week of that shit. Didn’t even need to steal a pair of your slutty little panties to smell you then. You reeked. I could smell you from my room.”

You laugh, helping him to press up and he glides into you, stretching you, radiating a satisfying ache along the slippery heat of your walls. His legs lift and his hands fall from your hips. Once you’re fully seated, your pelvis flush with his, you give him a few gulping breaths.

“Ahh, fuck, oh– fucking damn it. Ohh, this feels nice. God, you feel so fucking good,” he mumbles, his voice falling into a hysterical edge. You bite your lip and raise up on your knees, making sure you grip him tightly as you go. Another mantra of obscenities drop from his lips and his feet brace against the bed, his hips rutting blindly as you begin that slow lift and lower.

“How’s that?” you query, moaning when he returns those broad hands to your hips. His reply is a sharp thrust and you’re tipped forward, forced to sprawl over him, fingers digging for purchase in his dark shirt. He grunts at the weight of you but he keeps his pace up, using the bed as leverage.

You’re so close to him and you can’t help but reach for his face, suddenly desperate to feel his lips against yours. He doesn’t fight your hold, but he does let out a long groan when you tentatively kiss him. It’s slow at first and you’re very conscious of those dangerous hands of his. They’re still braced against your hips, but the four digits are starting to dig into your skin, sinking into the vulnerable dips until you’re whining.

He’s unsure, so you help him along.

You suck and nip at him, teasing him until he’s raising his head for more. Finally, one of those powerful hands detaches from your waist and he snatches at the back of your neck, insisting that you let him explore you further. After a time, you need air more than you need his lips, so you shake yourself free, pulling away and grinding your hips down as he ruts into you again.

“Not bad,” you tell him, grinning when he swipes his tongue over his swollen lips, his eyes lifting to peer up at you curiously. “Want me to take it up a notch?”

“No,” he replies sharply. “I like this.”

You snort at his blunt response and give him what he’s asked for. You keep the drags of your lifts slow, enjoying how he throbs and swells inside you. Each time you rise, you roll your hips and he sighs at every minor clench that your pussy does. After a time, you can’t ignore the pulsations of your impatient clit, so your fingers trail downward, delicately rolling and grinding against the bud.

Tomura tilts his head at this and his hazy vermillion snags your attention. “Does...does that feel good?”

For a second, you’re unsure what he means, but when his hand ghosts over yours, you realize. “Mmhm,” you gasp, giving yourself a quicker tweak, delighting in the widening of his eyes when your cunt flushes another wave of arousal around him. It slicks between your thighs and pools around his pelvis, gleaming against the dark curls that rest there.

“Lemme try,” he demands, batting your hand away and replacing your fingers with his own. He’s clumsy and he’s not expecting it to be that slippery, but he’s a quick study and he watches your face expectantly each time he tries something different.

“Y-you’re doing so good, Tomura,” you praise, lingering on his name, pleased that he reacts so positively to it. “Just a little bit...oh fuck...yeah, right there is perfect.”

You’re not being facetious either, he’s honestly killing you with those earnest looks and careful prods. Each time you gasp, he presses just a fraction more, testing out his new skills and expanding on them. As a reward, you keep the positive reinforcement coming, calling out his name as you fuck him into you, loving how he keeps pulsating and groaning each time you sink down.

A thin misting of sweat is beading over both of you, but you ignore the heat, too close to care that you’re starting to falter a bit in your rhythm. Tomura is panting also, losing some of that focus as he races toward his own release.

“Harder, ride me fucking harder, (Y/N),” he commands. The sight of him gasping and groaning out your name gives you an idea. You acquiesce to his demand but as you start those quick pumps your fingers reach behind you, searching for something that you think he’ll like even more.

Ah-ha!

It’s an older pair, not as frilly as the one’s you’d saved for him, but you’ve been wearing them all day, so that scent he was complaining about should be nice and ripe. His eyes have winced shut, so the flop of your lace panties startles him. He tenses for a second, but once he notices what you’ve given him a wicked smirk curls his lips. Instantly, his hand leaves your clit and he presses the fabric to his face, huffing heavily against the crotch.

“You fucking tease,” he groans, his tongue tracing along the seams, lapping at the thin residue that you’ve undoubtedly left behind. “Ahhh, yes. I think I would have rather had you sit on my face, but this will work, for now.”

The threat in his voice makes you shiver and you rock forward as you lower, snagging the sharp edge of his pelvis against your clit. Tomura takes in another deep breath at the sensation, his hand still holding your saliva filled panties to his lips. Just a little bit more. Your fingers tweak and pull, rolling the way you need. The heavy sting of Tomura’s cock is helping too and your pussy greedily begins to tighten around him, earning you a sputtered groan from the man beneath you.

“D-do that again,” he sighs, shifting your panties down his face so he can watch you. Obediently, you flick at your clit again and that stimulation, plus the heady knowledge that Tomura is watching, memorizing every move you make, hurtles you over the edge and you can’t help but slump forward as your orgasm crashes over you. Tomura lets out a guttural moan, flinging your panties away and yanking you to his parted lips. His kiss is frantic, nonsensical, more bites and slurps than any kind of caress, but you fall into his arms, overwrought and too turned on to think.

Once he’s had his fill of your lips, he resumes that steady pounding, his powerful hips canting into you, peppering you with jagged thrusts that leave you gasping.

“What’s the matter?” he taunts, his voice a wild rasp in your ear. “Can’t take anymore? Am I too much for you?”

You don’t trust yourself to reply, already seconds away from another shuddering release. All it takes is the feeling of him swelling and the heat of his cum to reduce you to a gasping mess again. This time, a thin line of drool escapes your lips. Delighted, Tomura snags his hand in your hair, tugging until you’re hovering over him. Gluttonously, he laps at your lips, sucking until you’re not sure who’s making the bigger slob of themselves.

When he’s finished, he rolls you off of him, splaying you out on the bed. As the world falls back into focus, you catch sight of him, leering over you, his white hair cascading around the two of you.

“I don’t think I’m done yet,” he grins, one hand cupping under your jaw. “Besides, you could have given me this weeks ago. I think you owe me a few back payments. Don’t cha’ think?”

notes: ahaha. this is basically a full fledged fic. whoops.

did i have anyone wondering if i was gonna pick Tomura or Dabi?

#asks #answered asks #pal muses #on why she can't write small #it's not hard #except when it is #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #bnha smut #drabble #kinda?#i refuse to do a word count

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yuyupowers · 3 years

Text

aristocrat!seonghwa

aristocrat!seonghwa x fem!reader

genre: fluff

trigger warning(s): patriarchal society mostly. let me know if there’s anything else!

author’s note: none of the pictures are mine!!

for reference, i’m using british peerage (hierarchy). there are five ranks: baron, viscount, earl (count), marquess, and duke - the highest being duke, and the lowest, baron.

second son of a duke

i imagine seonghwa to be someone who values tradition

unlike hongjoong who finds who finds the numerous aristocratic mannerisms pointless, hwa believes upholding these (rather stringent) rules is a sign of respect

perfect gentleman pt.1

excellent in swordsmanship, horse-back riding, and hunting

well versed in poetry, literature, art, and finance

(can maintain a conversation about politics but honestly it kinda goes over his head)

a bit on the shyer side, but a decent conversationalist

good at keeping the flow and mediating in case anyone becomes a little too heated about their opinions

definitely cares about his and his family’s image

naturally caring and tends to dote on those close to him

(translates into excellent manners)

holds the door open, offers his hand when stepping out of carriages, makes sure to walk on the side closest to traffic, diverts conversation when things are too “distressing,” wouldn’t be caught dead alone with a woman that wasn’t related to him or his fiancée/wife

and surprise, surprise !!

this is where you come in

you’re the second oldest daughter, fourth child out of six; born to an earl

hwa’s family had the highest title bestowed upon aristocracy

whereas your family accumulated more wealth and land than the park family

and since both you and hwa were prime marrying age™, your parents decided upon a mutually beneficial marriage

the first time you met seonghwa was under the watchful eye of both your parents, when the park’s invited your family for dinner

tbh, you were pretty relieved when you met him

“prime marrying age” was different for men, so you were just glad he wasn’t some old geezer

and he seemed like a decent person !!

a well put together gentleman, and his image was only consolidated throughout dinner

all in all, you didn’t have much to complain about from the initial impression

though it was kinda annoying when your little sister would not shut up about how he was the handsome man she’s ever met

even if you agreed

and didn’t she say that when she met woo?

anyways

after the first meeting with the park’s, both your parents set up multiple occasions for you two to meet

whether that be evening walks, picnics in the park, etc,,,

you learned a great deal about seonghwa

how his favourite is black, how he loved the stars and that his favourite planet was mars

how he loved kids and doted on your youngest siblings (much to your sister’s glee)

how he enjoyed spending a quiet afternoon with you reading dickens, discussing afterwards the contrast between carton and darnay

how he was always considerate of your feelings and opinions

you liked to think you were a decent judge of character and thought overall that seonghwa was a kind and caring person

but you also noticed a few characteristics that-

you wouldn’t say it was off-putting or anything but,,,

it might bother you in the future

see, you were pretty good friends with hongjoong

and while you weren’t as extreme,

(you didn’t sneak out weekly to hang out with a bar maiden that you definitely did not have a crush on)

you certainly agreed with him on certain points

like hwa, you thought that abiding by certain mannerisms = display of respect

but unlike him, you didn’t care all that much about your image

okay, that was a lie.

you couldn’t say you didn’t care about your image

(social ostracization isn’t exactly fun ya feel)

but you thought it was,,,exhausting

it’s one thing to be respectful, but it’s another thing to say things you don’t mean

to fake humility

to undermine people that are supposed to be your “friends” or “one of you”

to be perfect, when “perfect” was such a subjective term anyways

it just felt so fake and that left a bitter taste in your mouth

even now, you could see all the efforts seonghwa made to constantly keep his image of a “perfect gentleman”

with perfect mannerisms and perfect answers and perfect-

yeah, it kinda frustrated you

not to mention how obedient he was?

of course you didn’t fault him for being a dutiful and filial son, but his loyalty blinded him

and it wasn’t like his parents were bad people !!

no, you’d say they were much kinder than the average noble family

especially considering their status

but when they made important decisions for their son without consulting him,

(because they were more experienced, because they knew better, etc,,,)

and he accepted whatever decision they handed to him?

well,,,

nevertheless, despite being his fiancée, you, by this point, had realistically had known seonghwa for a couple months

and you didn’t feel like it was your place

(at least not yet)

to point this out

so the two of you continued your cordial but emotionally distant meetings

that is until “the incident” (as hwa fondly likes to call it)

okay, so-

one day you paid hwa a visit and the two of you decided to take a walk in his family’s garden

chattering about this and that

a lovely time !!

it was a bit overcast, but it didn’t look too threatening

so the two of you ignored the clouds looming in the horizon and wandered deep into the garden

big mistake

the weather took a turn for the worst, and soon it was pouring

by this point seonghwa was a little panicked

he knew that for women, getting ready could be excessively long and tenuous task

(courtesy of his little sister’s complaints)

and now !! you were getting rained on !! because he didn’t bring an umbrella !! just in case !!

!!!!

he turns to you, ready to shield you with his jacket and lead you back to the manor

but he’s at a loss by what he sees

he had expected you to be upset, to huddle closer to him, to,,,idk, maybe reprimand him for this thoughtlessness??

but instead, he finds you staring up at the dark sky, eyes shimmering with barely contained glee with the biggest smile he’s ever seen from you adorning your lips

he likes your smile

and if he was already confused (he was), he was about to become even more so

because the next thing he knows, you’re hiking your dress in one hand and grabbing his in the other, running through puddles of water and mud and everything in between, laughter falling from you like the rain

up until this point, you had been acting like the perfect (you hate that word) lady

polite, demure, charming-

in public settings, you only spoke when spoken to, with a voice that was purposely soft and soothing

you chatted with his mother and sisters about traditionally feminine things over tea with impeccable manners

whenever you two met, you were always prim and proper; never a strand of hair out of place

but here you were, getting not only yours but his clothes soggy and muddy, laughing without a care about how pleasant it sounded or how loud it was

seonghwa liked to think he wasn’t a judgemental person-

he wasn’t repulsed or anything by your sudden change in demeanor

just.

really confused

and when you looked back, you could tell,if his expression was anything to go by

but your grin only grew wider, because you could work with this

he wasn’t enjoying himself per say; a bit too confused and bit too stiff to do so

but he wasn’t horrified or disgusted

okay maybe he was a little grossed out; he liked to be clean thank you very much

you could work with this.

and so over the next few months, you showed him things he never dreamed of doing

some of which he liked, some of which he didn’t

some he was willing to try, some, less

like sneaking into the restricted section of the library (he’s never been so scandalized in his life)

or visiting the kitchen in the middle of the night so you could teach him how to make some basic recipes (which he surprisingly enjoyed)

or meeting hongjoong

(“of COURSE it matters if they got the colour wrong?! lord help me you’re the most insufferable person i’ve ever met-”)

and the more the two of you explored, the more he,,,real he became.

and vice versa.

gradually, the mask of perfection he worked so on hard to maintain was slipping before you

don’t get me wrong, he’s still kind and caring and a gentleman

but sometimes he would whine and complain when you encouraged him to do something he was less than enthusiastic about (usually something that involved getting him messy)

or he made The Face™ (the disgusted one) to you and when he didn’t like something or someone

or he would be stupidly stubborn about some random fact that you KNEW was wrong but he just WOULDN’T admit if even when you showed him proof

(“seonghwa for the last time toads don’t give you war-” “LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU” “eye-”)

once, he even playfully stole the strawberry from your cake

(big mistake. he’s never doing that again. he never knew a woman could move so fast or be so scary.)

it made you so, so happy because the two of you were finally getting to know each other

actually know each other

then one day, while the two of you were reading underneath a tree at the park

“,,,hey love?” (hwa)

“yes?”

“why are we doing this?”

“what do you mean, dear?”

“i mean,,,i’m not complaining, but i guess,,,why did you decide to show me this part of you? the part that runs around in the rain?” hwa

you don’t reply right away

instead, you shut your book and idly stared at the willow swaying over the pond, wind running its fingers through its drooping leaves

after a few moments of silence

“,,,i wanted to know you and what you believed in. actually believed in.”

seonghwa tilts his head slightly to the side

“love, i hardly think my convictions have changed”

“but do you know what your convictions are?”

and you know when you hear something that resonates with you?

something that strikes deep in your core and makes you rethink everything you’ve know?

yeah,,,this is one of those moments

now it was seonghwa’s turn to set his book aside, falling deep in thought

after an unnaturally long stretch of silence, you began to panic a little

because ?? maybe you misread the situation and got a little too comfortable-

cause i mean you were questioning his core values, which is something he takes very seriously

o god you messed up didn’t you o crap you need to apolog-

“will you help me figure it out?”

“,,,huh??”

“will you help me figure out my convictions?” he asked

and you swear, you’ve never seen such a smile from seonghwa

one that conveyed a plethora of emotions, ranging from honesty and vulnerability, to confusion and loss, to lightness and warmth

it filled you with an unnameable feeling

like something sliding into place, fitting perfectly; like it was always meant to be there, filling you with comfort

shyly intertwining your hands for the first time, you looked up to meet his gaze with a pattering heart and a smile matching his own

“,,,of course.”

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meirathinks · 3 years

Text

you can tell something that sounds like it

Suguru Geto x reader.

warnings: it’s angst :(( maybe some grammar mistakes?

geto has never lied to you. You tell yourself that he does.

(based off the song happy news for sadness)

╬╬═════════════╬╬

He can never tell the truth.

He can never—

At least, that’s what you told yourself. You'd repeat it over and over, the sick mantra failing to provide any sort of comfort. The dread had slithered from the end of your tongue to the base of your throat and finally cemented itself behind your ribcage: snuggly against your heart.

At first, Geto's presence was warm. His fingertips would dance along your jawline after particularly draining missions, butterfly kisses and the soft flutter of your pulse would follow shortly after. You would look at him with so much endearment. Doe eyes casting a hazy look in his direction while he continued to exchange soft touches for attention.

It was springtime; the nights were supposed to be frosted over. But, as your eyesight shifted from the condensation on the window accentuated by the soft glow of the lamp in Suguru's dorm, you noticed that you'd trade anything to forever feel the way you're feeling now. Geto held himself in a unique way, he was strong, but it differed from Gojo's arrogance. Geto was one of the strongest but he hardly paraded that fact; he instead used that fact to make you feel safe.

You hummed against his throat at the thought, Geto is your protector.

He breathed into your forehead pressing phantom kisses into your skin while sitting on his bed with you. You leaned into his chest while recovering from the latest mission, civilians were injured but none were killed. Still, Geto was ashamed that non-sorcerers had to be involved in such dangerous affairs in the first place.

You can never tell the truth,

but you can tell something that sounds like it

He moved to tug tightly at your hair, urging you to look up at him. His slightly swollen lips parted and shut as if looking for the appropriate thing to say. Geto relented, choosing to ignore the seeds of doubt threatening to be sown.

"You know, I won't let anyone hurt you." His calloused hand moved to squeeze your arm, the condensation dripped down the window.

Suguru is strong. He is your protector.

II.

Geto left. And all that replaced him was the wide-eyed gaze only piteous adults knew. Gentle squeezes on your shoulder and whispering that followed wherever you went.

You were ashamed. His promises that had once left you satisfied had proven to be hollow. His righteousness never wavered.

A voice had tugged at the corner of your mind the day you heard of what had happened in the village. Geto was good, he wanted to see people safe; if you had the chance to confront him you knew he wouldn’t change.

The drip, drip, drip, of your bathroom faucet, prompted you to focus on your reflection above the sink. Hot tears made their way down your cheeks, laboured breaths reverberated in the small space.

Geto would hug you, he'd tell you everything was okay.

Then he'd say he'd protect you.

You smiled at the thought of his domesticity, imagining his hand holding yours, missing the way his thumb would draw circles on the back of your hand.

The faucet continued to drip as you met your own gaze once again.

Dread filled your lungs

Geto killed 100s of people.

Geto always lies.

III.

There was a sharp pound at your door; hollow and calculated. Confusion invaded your senses, today was your day off, no one came to visit you anymore.

Nostalgia racked your body. Back in high school, your dorm was always unlocked, a sort of safe space for your classmates to come and go. Jujutsu tech was a warzone plagued with hopeless violence and your room seemed to be representative of the humanity of your colleagues. Neutral, kind, loving.

Gojo never knocked.

Shoko knocked three times.

And Geto was always four.

Another knock could be heard at your door.

You laughed at yourself for the little piece of hope you had felt. At the fact that you longed to see a murderer again. Maybe it would be Gojo instead? Willfully eating a candy bar while he waited impatiently outside the door of your home.

But Gojo never knocks.

A pounding could be heard at your door once more.

Your spirits lifted— Shoko had come to visit! You had missed her presence and humour, in a way, her spiral was worse than Geto’s. Everyone was convinced that the dark circles under her eyes were going to become a long-term predicament. But, when confronted about her exhaustiveness, a half-drunk Ieiri would always comment on how she was too busy to rest. Nonetheless, Shoko was the only other sorcerer who knew your address.

But no one ever visits.

One more knock.

Your blood ran cold, leaving an icy residue in your veins, your heart was beating in your throat. The absence of the knock hung in the air, your anxiety, your insecurity, your deep-rooted hope that he'd come back to explain had buzzed in its place.

You got up to walk to your door, as your hand lifted to unlock it, you waited.

Just one more. I need to prove it.

Suguru knocked one final time, you opened it as quickly as he expected you would. You wanted him to see the shame that ran deep in your eyes. Though, you hadn't felt the way that you were required to feel as a jujutsu sorcerer.

He met your gaze. You felt your heartbeat hiccup. Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt some sort of emotion bubble up at the base of your chest. Fear, disgust, hope.

"It's been 4 years, Geto."

Suguru grinned softly, a shiny film had covered his eyes. He took a gentle breath.

"Have I mentioned how I've thought about you every day for four years?"

IV.

In his final days at Jujutsu Tech, Geto was a shell of himself. Though he'd always eat the food you presented him in an attempt to curb your worries, you knew his appetite ran thin when he was left to his own devices.

Now, as he stood in your home's kitchen expertly cooking dinner for the both of you for what seemed the umpteenth time, you noticed how much he looked like himself. His hair was as gorgeous as ever (though admittedly longer), he still closed his eyes when he smiled, he still ran his thumb against the back of your hand when he held it.

Yet, he seemed so much happier.

At first, this had prompted anger. Someone like him didn't deserve to feel the joy he displayed.

Geto was a criminal, after all.

The hands of a criminal would cup your cheek and run up and down your back. His criminal voice would hum soft tunes to you in between philosophical conversations in the later hours of the night. His criminal eyes would cast the softest, most loving gaze in your direction. Geto's criminal, cold-blooded, self would whisper I love you over and over again into the crook of your neck until he fell asleep.

And you allowed him to.

You allowed him to look at the civilians with a horrifying disgust, one that sharply contrasted with his previous drive to protect everyone. You watched as his endearing expression would turn to a scowl whenever he talked about them. He'd use a distasteful nickname for non-sorcerers.

"Dirty Monkeys."

You had made sure your voice had matched the iciness of his own as you responded, "Don't use that phrase near me again."

He made a clear effort to exclude all ideological rhetoric from your conversations soon after.

The same voice that pestered you that there was still hope for Suguru had turned against him. It was ironic more than anything, the both of you could never win this sick and twisted game.

The slam of a knife against a chopping board had woken you up from your daydream. You looked up. Eyes scanning the figure of the criminal you had come to love. It was an illicit romance, one between a Jujutsu sorcerer and a cursed user. A romance between two people with differing beliefs.

You took a deep breath, the knife on the chopping board slowed as Getou turned to look at you. His brows were furrowed.

"Is everything okay?"

Your lips formed a tight-lipped smile, tears brimmed your eyes as you looked up to his face from your spot on the kitchen counter.

"Suguru," you swallowed, "we were never supposed to last this long, you know."

You watched his throat bob.

"I'm well aware."

You smiled up at him, a genuine one, twinged with melancholy, "Then you'll understand why I'm asking you to leave."

He nodded silently inching closer to your sitting figure. His hot breath tickled your face, testing the waters. You didn't know what to expect out of the kiss at this moment Maybe rough? Like the late nights you'd spend together after he practically barrelled through the front door, fuming about the day he had just had. Or passionate? You imagined a kiss with sloppy whispers and late apologies said in between the moments you took to catch your breath.

He grabbed your chin in his pointer finger and thumb, he urged your teary eyes to look into his. His lips met yours and he was not passionate, nor was he rough. You didn't see stars, you only felt him.

Geto was soft.

He pulled away, his eyes avoided your own as he breathed softly while taking in your figure one last time.

A sigh could be heard while he moved to the coat rack near your front door. You continued to sit stupidly on the kitchen counter, watching the abandoned knife and vegetables lay limp against the wood of the chopping board.

You heard the shifting of fabric as Geto maneuvered his coat on, "Call me if you need anything."

Suguru's eyes were downcast as he continued, "I love you."

You felt your throat go dry as it bobbed; Suguru closed the door as softly as he could on his way out.

You can never tell the truth,

but you can tell something that sounds like it

You never called him.

Gojo leaned against the wall of the hallways in Jujutsu tech, as he awaited your response.

He quickly grew impatient.

"I said I killed him." You hummed in response, you'd like to imagine that you looked indifferent. You wouldn't let yourself cry, not in front of Gojo, not because of Suguru.

"He had it coming." You willed yourself to say.

As you turned to continue your journey down the hallway, Gojo beckoned you to turn around with a scoff.

"One more thing," He lifted his blindfold to meet your eyes.

"He told me he loved you."

You let out a dry laugh, your fingernails were digging crescents into your palms, "Of course he did."

You walked down the empty hallway, leaving Gojo to his own thoughts. Heavy breaths could be heard as you attempted to calm yourself down. Why would Geto say that?

Then you remembered.

He can never tell the truth.

He can never—

#geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #gojo satoru #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #shoko ieiri #yuji itadori #fushiguro megumi #self indulgent #getou suguru

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ahsxual · 3 years

Text

Save Me

Pairing: Detective David Loki x Reader

Summary: You and David have been together for a few months now. You knew his job was exhausting and obscure, but lately he had been spending less time with you and being more distant, until something he wasn't expecting happens...

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, lots of swearing, children kidnap (since it's based on the movie)

Word Count: 4,1k

A/N: This one is dark!!! I'm so happy for finally writing a fic about Detective Loki, my sweet and handsome savior <33 I personally think that this piece is really cute and romantic, yet terrifying... Sooo, I hope you enjoy it! ^-^

You had no idea of what was happening... You didn't know why the love of your life has been so distant lately, and acting so weird every time he was around you... Had you done something wrong? Didn't he love you anymore??, you asked the same torturing questions to yourself every day, non-stop.

You were currently drinking a hot cup of cappuccino under five, comfortable, warm blankets while watching your favorite series, since it was really cold outside and you were by yourself. It was the middle of winter, so whenever you looked outside the window, all you could see was bright, comforting and gorgeous shades of white of sweet snow. Winter used to comfort you in a way no other season did: on those freezing days, you were able to spend all day in bed with David, warming each other's bodies in your tight embraces, and making love until you started feeling so hot that it seemed like summer had already arrived. But this time, you didn't feel any of that: you painfully missed your boyfriend. You missed your moments together, the sweet, yet rare laughs that managed to come out of his well-defined lips, knowing you were the only one that could achieve them... and that's why you were so special to him, because you were the only woman and person in this world who was able to make him feel truly happy, loved and accepted. Before you started dating, he was so worried that you would leave him sooner than later, or that anything bad would happen to you if he let you enter in his life so deeply... and he was also terrified of falling in love with you, because then it would too late for him to turn back.

It was already 1 am, and you had no messages, calls or even a sign that he was still alive.This was pure torture. You were trying to hold your tears back so hard, not wanting to feel weak once you let them fall, but it was inevitable for carrying so much suffering and not letting even a gasp out of your lonely and unloved body... at least that's how you felt. When you were about to turn off the lights to get ready to sleep, so you could refresh your mind and relax a little bit, you suddenly heard your front door being calmly knocked. It was strange since David would always use his keys to enter your house, but you had been missing him way too much to think properly, so without thinking twice, you got out of bed and ran as quickly as you could to open the door for him... or at least that's what you wished.

"David!" you instantly called your lover's name, not having time to react once you realized it wasn't him.

"Sorry honey, David is not coming soon." with a maniac grin planted on his creepy face. That was all the stranger said before you felt a strong knock on your head, making you instantly fall unconscious.

---------------------------------------------------

A few hours passed when you were finally able to open your eyes. Your entire body was sore and shaking from the freezing weather, and you could feel your own blood dripping down your forehead where the agressor had beaten you; your arms and legs were tightly tied with some cheap rope, and the only thing you were sure about was that you were inside someone else’s house.

"Where the fuck am I?! GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW!" you screamed as loud as you could, hoping that someone would check up on you, so you could at least recognize the person who abducted you. You then heard excited whispers from a man saying: "She's awake!!", and you couldn't help yourself, but to feel disgusted and utterly scared of what could happen...

"Well, well, the sleeping beauty has already come to her senses!" an old woman entered the barely lit room you were currently being kept hostage, and you didn't hesitate to express your confusion.

"What the... who are you? Where the hell is your ass-hatted companion?" you blantantly asked, referring to the man who you saw previously at your front door. Out of the sudden, you felt a hard slap on your face, leaving a red mark behind.

"Fuck you, you crazy bitch!" you screamed at her, feeling a burning and painful sensation on your left cheek, spreading slowly all over your face.

"Watch your mouth, girl! Only because you're detective's whore doesn't mean you can say whatever you want! Here and now you will respect and obey me, until your sweet, handsome boyfriend comes find you. Then, I'll torture and kill him right in front of you... I mean, that is if he notices your absence at all." she started to laugh exaggeratedly at your face, her words hurting and cutting deeper than a sharpened kitchen knife. You turned your face away from the crazy lady, trying to cover your suffering and heavy tears from her... but it was useless.

"Aww, did I hit a soft spot, honey?" she pretended to be worried about you, moving closer to you and hunching over next to you, making you find the perfect opportunity to spit right onto her maniacal face. "Ughh, you fucking bi-"

"Wait!" the stranger who seemed to be the one who abducted you, interrupted her. You both looked at him confused, not understanding why he stopped her from beating you.

"Let me do it. I want to beat that fuck-head's girlfriend." the abductor approached you slowly, rolling up his sleeves excitedly before you felt the first punch of many on that night.

"Good job, boy. Entertain yourself while the detective wastes his precious time looking for that bitch instead of the kids." the psychotic woman said, casually, like what she just said wasn't an devilish plan at all. She must be so used to do this... poor children... if only I could save them like David does..., you devastatingly thought to yourself.

"How can you hurt the poor childrens who are so innocent compared to your disturbed mind?! How can you get pleasure out of it, you sick BASTARD?!!" you screamed with all the strenght you had in your throat and lungs. Oh, how you wished to kill those two pieces of trash with your own hands...

"You don't understand..." the man tried to excuse himself from the horrifying crimes he enjoyed so much to commit.

"OF COURSE I DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND, AND I NEVER WILL!! THEY ARE JUST CHILDREN, FOR FUCK SAKE!!" your lungs were burning by now, and your stinging tears were uncontrollably running down your beaten and sore bruised cheeks.

"Let her spill all that anger out of her chest, honey. We don't want her to get exhausted already." she smirked wickedly at you. "She will be our guest for a long time..."

---------------------------------------------------

Two days had passed, and you were still in that dark, small torture room that was once just a casual room. They barely fed you and offered you water to drink, causing your lips and mouth to be tremendously dry. Your face was covered in bruises and cuts, some deeper than others, yet they all bled and hurt like hell. You had lost track of how much time had passed that night. All you knew, was that you were suddenly awaken by a strong, yellow light and some little girl's deafening screams and pleading cries.

"Please, let me go!!" the poor young girl pleaded, yet no pleads of her were enough to stop the devil himself, also known as the owner of the house you were currently on.

"I brought you company!" she then carelessly pushed the little girl to the rigid ground. "Seems like your boyfriend is getting suspicious, so while I distract him, you two will remain shut before I kill you all. He’ll be the first one to go, surely." she smiled once again, before closing the door harshly. David is here?

The innocent girl cried harder when she heard the door being closed roughly, and since you didn't want anything bad to happen to both of you or to your boyfriend, you did your best to calm her down.

"It's ok sweetheart, I'm here with you now, you don't have to feel alone anymore. I promise I won't let anything bad to happen to you from now on, ok?" you sounded like your boyfriend and that thought made you smile weakly for an instant. The girl was still absurdly scared, all her trust and hope in human kind being completely destroyed by the terror she had been through at such a young age, which was totally understandable. She stepped back away from you when you tried to reach for her small and fragile hand, since you had managed to get your hands free by patiently untying the tight ropes like David had taught you. It was a technique you used in emergency situations, and this was one of them. He always prepared you for the worse, teaching you everything he had learned, so you could save yourself when he's not capable and things like this would eventually happen. You immediately withdrew your hand by instinct, but you weren't one to give up so easily.

"Can you... can you tell me your name..?" come one Y/n, you can do better than this. "I'm very hurt too... you see? So my only intention here is to get both of us out of here... she is a very bad woman, but I am not. You know, I'm detective's girlfriend who is looking for you since... the beginning. And your father is helping him! They are our saviors, so they will rescue us from this ugly place very soon." you kindly explained to her, trying to give her some faith and remind her of her family... remind her that this wasn't her reality. The world out there, united with her family and friends, is where she truly belongs. She looked at you intensely, and you could finally see some light of hope in those big, gorgeous eyes. Once again, you remembered your stunning lover and the loving stares he would give you all the time, the ones that never failed to give you goosebumps all over your skin.

"Is... is my father looking for me..?" she finally spoke to you. If you didn't know it was coming from her, you could swear that her voice belonged to an angel because of its sweetness and innocence. You almost let heartbreaking tears escape your tired eyes... but you had to remain strong for her.

"Of course, darling. He loves you so, so much, and he would never forget or give up on you." for the thousandth time, you remembered your sweet and lovely boyfriend again, and on how you deeply craved to hear those reassuring words come out of his mouth, instead. A moment of silence was installed for a few seconds, before she decided that trusting you should be probably the best, yet the only option available.

"I'm... I'm Anna by the way..." she whispered shyly, or should I say still afraid and suspicious. You then offered her the most gentle smile you could give in response.

"You have such a beautiful name, Anna. I'm Y/n, and I'm so glad to meet you. Of course I would prefer to meet you in any other circumstances, but..." you needed to change the subject urgently: she was just a child, so she wouldn't get your sarcastic comment like others would. "What about we all get a delicious ice-cream once we get back home, huh? You, your family, me and... my... boyfriend." you hesitate a little bit, still hurt because of your boyfriend’s behavior in the last few weeks. Why was he taking so long to save us?

"Yummy, ice-cream!" she said excitedly, yet you could notice how tired she still was.

Tired of waiting, you finally decided to use the technique you had learned that previously had helped your hand's blood flow properly in your veins, by successfully untying the ropes out of her sore wrists. The poor kid's hands must be so badly hurt as well...

"Come here, sweetie." you untied the old ropes that were restraining your leg's movements in case someone came in unexpectadly, that way you could defend you both. You then helped her by untying her own ropes and when you did, you suddenly heard a gun shot.

Anna started to scream while covering her ears, and you instinctively pulled her near you to protect her from the horrors outside. Out of nowhere, the door was abruptly opened and the old lady came up being extremely stressed. Your first instinct was thinking that Loki had been shot by her, so all your courage and hope had vanished in a single second.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!!!" you shouted at her and ran in her direction to beat her up as hard as you could without fearing the consequences, when suddenly you felt a hard sting in your arm: she pricked you with a needle that contained a drug that causes a person to have a heart attack in the next few hours or even minutes, if they aren't correctly treated urgently.

"Goddammit!" you then felt extremely dizzy and fell to the ground. The last thing you saw before falling unconscious, was David entering the room and putting the evil woman on the ground, trying to arrest her with any gentle manners, before she managed to pull a gun from her pocket and shoot herself, and Anna's screams for your name... however, you were too nauseaus to distinguish if all of that was really happening, or if it was just a hopeful hallucination of yours.

---------------------------------------------------

"Y/N!! Please baby, don't you dare to die on me... please wake up... FUCK!" David was starting to be quickly consumed by pure despair, shaking you to no end, hoping you would open your eyes in his arms and return to him, safe and sound: he had finally found you and Anna after spending the worst week of his life, but even then he still couldn't feel utterly relieved. He then grabbed the two of you carefully, and drove you to the nearest hospital.

"Please Y/n, stay with me, do you hear me?! I will not let you leave me that easily... please honey..." he was talking more to himself since you couldn't respond, and his distressed tears were difficulting his vision and eventually his driving, which wasn't a good thing at all.

"Don't worry detective, she will be fine... your girlfriend is a really strong woman." the young girl tried to calm the desperate and protective boyfriend, just like you did with her a few minutes ago, and he couldn't help but feel so proud of you, yet guilty for being so focused on work lately, instead of giving you the attention you so dearly deserved from him...

---------------------------------------------------

Hours passed and you were still in the hospital, unconscious. Loki didn't know what to do to himself... he wanted to punch himself so hard for letting this happen to you. And if there was a possibility that you could switch roles, you would have been awake a long time ago.

This was his worst nightmare, to let his work interfere with your relationship in the worst way possible. He didn't want to leave your side for anything: even with the doctors insistence, he threatened to arrest them all if they didn't let him be with you until you woke up, and believe me when I say he was pretty convincing. His strong, tattooed arms were supporting his heavy, anxious and furious mind on top of his legs, they had been shaking for hours now, non-stop. He felt so, so guilty, and he didn't think he could ever forgive himself for almost losing the love of his life because of his negligence... and, on top of that, knowing that he was so distant and careless with you in your probable last days. Out of nowhere, he heard a muffled sound of pain, making him instantly look up at you and ran to your side. His heartbeat increased at a speed which he didn't think it was even possible for a single human being to handle without having a stroke right then and there.

"Honey..?" he called for you, his eyes inevitably watering for the hundredth time that night. You never saw him crying before, so it surprised you to see his eyes glistening. You struggled to keep your eyes opened, because of the strong light that illuminated your hospital room, but when your vision finally adjusted itself and you looked at him for the first time in the last few days, it was like you were seeing God himself.

"Is this heaven..?" you asked confused, making him laugh softly. Only you could rip a smile from him in such a bad situation like this one.

"No honey, this is pure reality. You are at the hospital, but I'm here with you now." he firmly grabbed your fragile and bruised hands into his much bigger ones, and looked at you like you were about to get married.

"Are you... crying?" you asked, feeling worried when you noticed, once again, his eyes being much brighter because of the fresh tears that wanted so badly to come out. He immediately wiped them away with the back of his hand, making you laugh. Your man never liked to show his emotions to anyone, not even to you. Well, at least he tried his best not to show them to you.

"Just got uh.. something inside my eye..." he tried to find a valid excuse, but since you knew him too well, he ended up giving up. He then offered you the most reassuring smile at you, only for you to gladly return it. However, his smile didn't last too long once he realized the severity of your state, it started disappearing slowly while his hands grabbed yours even harder this time, his eyes never leaving yours while analyzing your face so carefully.

"Oh God... what did I do to you..." this time, he wasn't able to contain himself, yet he didn't care anymore to show you how hurt he really was. It was too much guilt for just one man to carry on his shoulders and heart, no matter how strong he was.

"Don't." you immediately exclaimed and he looked at you curiously. "What happened was not your fault, do you understand me? It could happen to anyone."

"No! " he exclaimed. "If I was there with you instead of wear out my mind with this fucking case..."

"Baby, stop. It's your job and you saved that innocent girl. If it weren’t for you, she could have been dead by now." your tone was serious, and he understood that you were the only thing trying to make him not be so hard on himself.

"But..."

"No "but's", David. You are our savior. And I couldn't be prouder of you..." you smiled at him, yet he didn't return it. An intense exchange of emotional glares, and a thoughtful, tense silence was planted for a few, long seconds.

"If... if we weren't together, nothing would have happened to you... I prefer to know that you're safe and healthy with another man, than..." he didn't have sure on what he was saying, it was too much to process... but there was one thing he was sure of: he wouldn't allow anything bad happen to you from then on.

"Don't you dare saying that again, David Loki. You are the man who I love with my whole being, more than anything, and I would give my own life to save you if it was the case. And I don't care how many times I have to be abducted to prove how much I want to be with you for the rest of my life." you never spoke so seriously in your life, and you genuinely meant every word you just said. You just couldn't live without him anymore.

"What the hell did I do to deserve you..?" he carefully approached you, giving you a slow, yet most passionate kiss you had shared in a long time, while soflty grabbing your head between his cold hands. His lips were dry, yet tasted like sweet honey, like they always did.

"Detective Loki- oh, I'm so sorry!" Anna's mother entered the room, feeling ashamed for interrupting your romantic moment.

"No problem, Miss Dover. Do you need something from me?" he seriously asked, getting immediately into the hardworking Detective Loki character.

"Actually, I wanted to thank you for all you did to-"

"Y/n!!" Anna ran towards you as soon as her eyes landed on your weak body. She hugged you carefully, so she wouldn't hurt you, and you instantly felt you heart melting inside your chest.

"Heyy Anna! I'm so happy to see again, my bravest girl!" she offered you a toothy grin, and you were mesmerized by the change of energy that you only knew from her back in that horror house. Both of her mother and your charming boyfriend looked at your and the girl's interaction, not expecting for you to become so close to each other.

"Can we go eat an ice-cream now, like you promised?? I'm so hungry!" she asked excitedly, her eyes filled of hope and joyful.

"She needs to rest, sweetie. Maybe another time. Anyway, thank you so much, detective, for finding my daughter." he nodded to her and then she looked at you with a kind smile in her face. "And thank you for protecting my daughter from those monsters, Y/n. I'll be eternally grateful for the two of you. I hope you get better soon." she thanked the two of you, before leaving the room with her daughter, to give you two some privacy.

"Bye Y/n!" the girl happily said goodbye to you.

"Bye sweetheart, see you soon!" you responded back, seeing her leaving the room right after her mom.

"She really likes you." your boyfriend said to you, wanting to make you feel better since he knew how overwhelming you felt everytime someone thanked you.

"Yeah, I guess..." you laughed. "She kept me company in there, you know? We helped each other so we didn't feel so lonely anymore..." you looked at your fingers while shyly playing with them, hoping that he would understand your attempts of silently saying how hurt you were. You then felt him coming in your direction and sitting right beside you.

"Sweetheart... I'm so, so sorry for letting you feel like you were alone... I was so stressed about work, and I didn't want to discharge everything on you..." he truly seemed regretful of his actions, so of course you would forgive him since he was such a honest man. But you needed to let him know how hurt you felt by his lack of attention and affection with you. "I love you so much, honey... I... I can't imagine my life without you anymore. I would be so lost..." his voice sounded extremely weak at his final words, since he tried to hold back his cry once again.

"I love you too, baby. So, so much..." you caressed his barely shaved cheek and kissed him softly on the lips. When you broke the kiss so you could stare at him properly, you hugely smiled at him out of nowhere.

"What?" he smiled back.

"Nothing. I was just thinking that maybe..."

"Maybe what?" he seemed really curious about what you were about to say. You continued to look at him while bitting your lower lip softly, wanting to see and memorize his reaction by what you were about to suggest.

"Maybe... we could have a baby of our own?" you calmly and very carefully said, not wanting to scare him away. His reaction was expressless, which scared you a little bit.

"Babe, I don't know... what if... what if something happens to our child?" he already started to worry and get stressed.

"You will never live your life if you keep thinking about the worst, on what could happen or not. Think more about you and your happiness... think more about us. With a baby in our arms." this time, his smile expanded until a big toothy grin was revealed on his gorgeous face.

"You're absolutely right. We definitely should have our own princess." he lovely glared at you, kissing your hands with the most gentle kiss he could afford.

"Or prince... Who knows."

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