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#and the way he's staring at her with concern and affection while she's staring at the GHOSTS ABOUT TO KILL THEM
pearlcaddy · 2 years
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LOCKWOOD & CO. 1.03 for @sanssssastark
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iceunhie · 3 months
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— KISSES OR KISSES? : honkai star rail
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premise. testing out your new lipstick is no fun (normally), so what better way to make use of it by kissing your lover senseless? not to mention, leaving a little something behind.... (aka, lipstick kisses with them.)
ft. blade, dan heng, boothill, dr. ratio, aventurine !
warnings: feminine reader! reader is ultimately genderless but you may interpret this as fem!reader if you want, reader wears lipstick. nicknames hehe, boothill is his own warning, mid writing tbh, unedited
a/n. the lipstick trend does not escape me at all 😞😞 but this consumed me so now i write about it ijbol
MAIN MASTERLIST || PART 2 (sunday, jing yuan, gallagher, sampo, gepard.)
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“what are you doing?”
BLADE ceases all functions. like, immediately.
you'd think he'd even stopped breathing once he'd felt the soft sensation of your lips on his, and the pretty sight of the normally aloof stellaron hunter covered in multiple lipstick kisses all over his face to his neck nearly makes the rest of his other comrades keel over from laughter. his silence is indicative of his rather unusual state of shock, the only indication a menacing furrow of his brows (to an outsider, they'd think he's plotting a murder spree, but you know him too well for that) that twitch and simultaneously react the more you kiss him everywhere on the face.
silverwolf will then relay to you that blade walked around for nearly 5 system hours covered in your... marks of ownership, kafka helpfully supplies, and was only made aware when firefly accidentally bumped into him, face exploding in red when she saw the audacious sight of blade covered in your lipstick. “er, blade.... your face is...”
blade has never known mortification quite like today, but the intense feeling of something akin to shame is vivid as he stares at himself in the mirror, glaring.
his face is a mess, to put it simply. trailing a hand on the red stains your lips left on to him leaves him with a smudged countenance, furthering the utter chaos that is his kiss-ridden face.
“...ridiculous girl.” avoiding the uncharacteristic way his fingertips feel hot, blade reckons this is probably why firefly stopped dead in her tracks and gaped, stared, and flustered.
clever as you were, and with your equal penchant for mischief, blade, the ever unsuspecting lover he is (he doesn't normally allow anyone to touch him, but you're not just anyone) had easily become the target of your new tricks.
“pfft, nice get-up, old man. got yourself a good day?”
....so that's what silverwolf meant.
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DANHENG immediately scolds you, but not in the serious way he normally does whenever stelle wants to eat an origami bird or dives into trashcans or when march accidentally destroys one of the archive books, but in a way that only dan heng ever shows you. he's red, painfully red, and is struggling to face you because he knows that the smug grin you're holding has to do with the sight he'd glimpsed himself to be in moments prior.
unfortunately for him, for all his ways of trying fervently to remove the lipstick stains plastered all over his face, it only took march one look and a melodramatic gasp before the entire express knew, the conductor included.
“dan heng and [name], sitting on a tree-”
“k-i-s-s-i-n-g~”
my friends are all senile, dan heng thinks, rolling his eyes while avoiding himeko's friendly (read: eerie) smile. and he's already given up on trying to meet welt's eyes. (read: concerned but not surprised)
the reason? the rouge tinted matte lipstick generously spread all over dan heng's face, slightly smudged and spanning from his cheeks to his lips, nearing his neck.
he'd never tell, but a part of him—one that was reptilian in nature, a primal need of possessiveness—adored the show of affection you showered upon him. it was only right—he was yours, and you were his.
welt is sheepish, coughing lightly that all five heads of the express members turn to him (pom-pom included) “dan heng, is that your tail wagging?”
“....”
“....”
“....”
(a resounding click! can be heard afrerwards. oh, dan heng is so going to steal march's camera.)
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the loud whir of BOOTHILL’s cooling system can't even keep up with how fast he's overheating, because one thing led to another and one look you gave made him weak in the knees and now his body is covered in your kisses, scarlet against the metal gray of his limbs. he no longer has a heart, but the rapid feeling of heat emitted by his body speaks more about his current mental state in more ways than one—he can't even form words because his brain chip is practically glitching itself up into overdrive, because your lips were so warm, soft and gentle and—
“...oothill? boothill? your circuits are—”
a startling sound that sounds just like a mini explosion reverberates somewhere in the tangle of wires near boothill's power source.
oh dear.
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( p.s: no warp trotters were harmed, rest assured )
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“[name]...” AVENTURINE’s voice falters when you press a soft kiss near his forehead, your lover closing his eyes as he lets out a soft sigh of joy — a bit like a peacock preening... but in any case! he certainly sees no argument being swayed by you, his dignity in shambles, yes, but when you were showering him with affection like this (which, in all honesty, aventurine did not think he deserved) leaves in in a flushed and tattered mess of a man, whose strings are wholly puppeteered by you and you alone.
you are everything; and aventurine certainly can't get enough. (he doubts if enough will even be enough someday) he's the lover who'd proudly want to flaunt such salacious marks everywhere, though his craftily built reputation as a stoneheart—blood sweat and commodity code and all—leaves him to hide your marks on him, as much as he'd like them to stay. (you are a weakness that aventurine keeps like an oath, and an existence that he'd do anything to keep.)
that doesn't, however, stop him from getting you to leave a kiss near his collar, discreet enough to signal his status as irrevocably, undeniably yours.
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DR. VERITAS RATIO is actually the most calm and most normal (read: boring) of all the men above when barraged by your kiss attack. letting out a tsk that's more chiding and speeachless than actually annoyed, he casually pulls you away from his face, nevermind his rapidly heating cheeks, which is only made more humorous given his lipstick stained face.
“stop that. you're making too much of a mess of me, fool.” <- is visibly leaning to your face to allow said actions. you're not fooling anyone here, doctor. smh.
however, he does get pretty flustered when a certain blond gambler notes the new addition of a ‘tattoo’ right near his lower lip. “wow, doctor. seems you woke up on the good side of the bed today.”
he spends a whole day scolding you hoarse afterwards, whatever that may entail ;).
(as a way of petty revenge, he will make sure to kiss you senseless right after, until he's sure his own lips are swollen and covered in the warm red of your chosen shade.)
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a/n: blog is running on queue as of today, so this post will probably come wayyy overdue lol but hope u enjoy nonetheless!
@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.
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dadsbongos · 1 year
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then, and again, and once more
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6.9k words
Summary - Yuuji tries to impress you and win your heart, with the help of Sukuna… who seems weirdly knowledgeable about and interested in you.
Warnings - p in v sex, FULL NELSON BABY!!!, yuuji eats pussy :), oh yeah fem reader btw, sukuna is here too (and his cannibalism is mentioned), idiot friends pining for each other, very vague timeline idk but yuuji is aged up
sukuna-centric part 2
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There it is again.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
That unbearable thick bass in his chest, banging so tirelessly against his ribs that it threatens to make him nauseous. A quick inhale and yep - scratch that - he’s definitely already nauseous.
Yuuji sinks his sweaty palms deeper into his pants pockets, eyes darting sharply down to his beaten sneakers. The once vibrant ruby shade is now marred by dirt and aging threads - and if he turns his right foot just so, then he can see an old, blackened stain from pizza sauce he spilled while eating out with you. The memory, or more specifically how you’re giggling in his memory, makes him smile.
And in the real world, Megumi is watching his friend grin ear to ear while looking at a black, crusty splotch on the inside curve of his right shoe. After having just wide-eyed stared at you from across the room while you and Nobara heatedly debate where to go for dinner.
He glares at Yuuji, lashes narrowing, “You look insane. Knock it off.”
That snaps the boy from his reminiscing, and it takes him three long seconds before he registers the insult, “I was thinking!”
“Obviously,” Megumi scratches the side of his nose, more to just have something to do with his hands than anything else, “What were you thinking about?”
Humming quietly to himself, Yuuji shrugs, “Oh, the usual.”
“You’re hopeless,” Megumi maintains his efforts to keep his hands busy by scratching the back of his head, “Just tell her already. What’s the worst that happens?”
“She rejects me and avoids me,” Yuuji pouts, “Honestly, ‘gumi, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic - being a standoffish and awkward guy yourself.”
Swatting at his friend’s shoulder, Megumi shakes his head, “The hell is wrong with you? Was that just sitting in your mind?” he shakes his head again, glare growing stronger, “And don’t call me that.”
“I thought you had anxiety or something,” Yuuji shrugs, “Why else would you be so weird in public?”
Any previous concern regarding Yuuji’s well-being immediately flies from Megumi at that. He folds his arms across his chest with murmurs of hatred floating out from his lips. All as he waltzes over to where you and Nobara are seated around your laptop at the chipping hardwood table.
Yuuji has no problem shrugging off Megumi's irritation, but when it comes to the mere idea of your face stretching in disgust at him - God, isn’t that the worst?
“You’re the worst, brat,” comes that rumbling, terrible voice in the back of his head. The nagging used to sound more like him - and when he’s really stressed, it still sometimes does - but now his own voice has faded into the King of Curses’. Now his own voice is sweeter, more prone to praise and positives - in a weird way, Sukuna has made Yuuji better.
But in a lot more ways -
“Oi, don’t ignore me.”
He’s made Yuuji’s life so much worse.
“You like that one, right? I can help.”
You’re sitting back, allowing Megumi to take the reins on shooting down Nobara’s suggestion for sushi. Normally, that demand isn’t a problem, but this would be the fifth night in a row she’s tried roping you all into ordering sushi for her. You lean into Megumi a little, and Yuuji hates the way his chest tightens at the display.
It isn’t even affection. It’s just…
“You want to be the one she’s on, right?”
Yuuji sighs to himself and sneaks out of the kitchen, though it’s hardly a challenge when Nobara raises her voice to defend her long-lasting cravings.
With tense shoulders and a red face, Yuuji glances down each side of the hall to ensure nobody is nearby, “How could you help with this?”
Sukuna’s eye on Yuuji’s cheek has flitted up to stare into Yuuji’s, and that sickly crawl of his skin stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s wide grin makes his stomach turn, “You’re just a child, you don’t know anything about women.”
Yuuji could double over, hands on his knees and breathless in sputters of laughter, but he refrains - unwilling to let anyone hear his schizophrenic ramblings, “And you do?”
Sukuna’s eye rolls and Yuuji hates the way it feels under his cheekbone, nearly retching in response, “Of course.”
And that strings up some different terrible question in Yuuji, “But why would you help me?”
Sukuna has been so unwilling to do anything useful for Yuuji despite the fact he’s allowed to reside in this body - so what could possibly possess him to do this now?
“Do you want my help or not, worm?”
Yuuji sighs through his nose, eyes fluttering shut, thinking hard about the offer. He’d come to the conclusion not too long after swallowing his first finger to simply not question many of Sukuna’s motives, mostly since his goals are: chaos, women, and chaos.
“This better not be some gross pass at my friend,” Yuuji sneers, body electrified on the ready to smack down his own cheek should he hear an answer he doesn’t like.
Sukuna is too quiet for too long, and Yuuji is fully prepared to swipe at the parasite on his face when finally, that deep voice rattles again. It buzzes in his flesh, uncomfortable and itchy and so quiet he barely hears what the curse mumbles into him.
The boy pauses and lets the words melt on his tongue, he turns them between his molars and laves the roof of his mouth with the remaining implications. He wasn’t expecting Sukuna to be honest, not to that degree at least.
And Yuuji smacks Sukuna’s bulbous eye down anyway.
“Fine then,” Yuuji pulls his hand down and curls his fingers into a fist, another great big awful ragged sigh roughing over his tongue like barbed wire, “I’ll listen to you, but if you ruin this for me- “
“Calm down, brat,” the mouth pops back up stubbornly, bitterly spitting out his version of a promise, “I don’t plan on failing.”
Yuuji pushes himself off the wall and spins back into the kitchen unnoticed, hands locking behind his head as he saddles up beside you at the table, “So, what’s for dinner?”
He snorts at how you groan, looking up at him from your seat with tired, low-lidded eyes and gesturing across the table to where Megumi and Nobara are still arguing, “You tell me.”
“Why don’t we just go out?” Yuuji shrugs, grinning broadly despite the way his two friends both twitch their necks over to glare at him, “Come on, it’s not even dark! We can walk around and do a little looking; get some air!”
Nobara’s pitched shoulders drop, pinched expression falling into her usual lax, she looks over at Megumi again with a raised brow. Megumi shrugs, his own eyebrows still scrunched together, “If it’s fine with you two, I don’t care.”
You snicker, standing up against the stiff wood supports of the chair legs, one elbow digging into the table to further help hold you up while your spare fingers dance up to smooth out the crinkled space, “I think it’ll be fun.”
Megumi snatches you by the wrist and tosses your hand to the side while Nobara hops down from her own chair, stretching out her back until it pops obnoxiously. She’s already bouncing out of the kitchen to snag her shoes before shouting back, “Well, come on! We’re on a timer now, people!”
“Jeez,” you slip off the chair pegs, bumping slightly into Yuuji’s side - entirely oblivious to the sparkly fireworks you sweep across your poor friend’s body at the contact, “Should’ve just suggested that from the start, huh?”
Shrugging, Yuuji waits for you to begin walking out of the kitchen before following, “Sometimes you just need fresh eyes on a situation, you know?”
“I guess,” you fold your arms, evidently frustrated, “Just feel like that was something I should’ve seen.”
Yuuji feels that disgusting, familiar thumping in his chest just by looking at you now. Heat radiating from his cheeks to the expanse of his chest, throat swelling with the uncomfortable need to spill his guts - dump every little thought and feeling he’s ever had for you into your ears until you force him to shut up. Like how he can’t even look at Jennifer Lawrence the way he used to simply because she isn’t you.
Maybe then he’d tell you that this hasn’t happened in the six years since he first saw Silver Linings Playbook. Maybe you’d tell him to stop talking, and that you two would never happen.
Maybe then he can move on, when you crush his hope. But he doesn’t really want that.
And he doesn’t really know why he agreed to let Sukuna lend him any advice.
Oh well.
It’s when you’re rushing out the door to keep up with Megumi and Nobara that Sukuna opens his mouth for the first time.
His voice stabs into Yuuji’s ears, but it isn’t exceptionally as cruel as he usually finds it, this, instead, is purely instructional, “When you two are out tonight, tell her about that cat you saw around the garden today.”
Yuuji scratches through his messily filed memories, “I saw a cat?”
“Yes, twit, a black one. Tell her about how its fur changed color in the sun.”
“Okay…?” Yuuji huffs in his daze, finally putting effort into walking alongside you and the others, “Hey! So, I just remembered something.”
“Oh yeah?” you smile at Yuuji, purely encouraging, and he’s disgusted at the way he almost trips over his own feet.
Nobara and Megumi pay the both of you little mind, instead pointing out different potential favorite hotspots they could creep into for the night. Well, Nobara points out, they could even stop at two places if they’re feeling adventurous. And Megumi says they can do whatever the rest of you think is best.
But Yuuji isn’t listening, and you’re hardly lending an ear, he swallows down the rock in his throat and nods, “I saw a cat this morning - a black one! - and it made me think of you,” the gentle warmth spreading through him could either be the way you’re lighting up at him, or Sukuna silently congratulating his good line, “Its fur was all brownish red in the sun, it was…” your eyes are so starry and sweet, solely on him - it makes his tongue tie up in knots, “It was beautiful.”
“Bummer I wasn’t there, then,” you pout a little, “You need to get me for things like that!” he laughs at the way your face has morphed, all stern and strict business, “Seriously!”
“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, both hands up in playful defense, “I promise to call you if I see another cat.”
“Could’ve at least taken a picture for me,” you histrionically sigh, “And I thought we were friends.”
A sudden thought invades the back of Yuuji’s mind. Some hidden, more primal part of his mind that he doesn’t usually listen to flashes back to a time he doesn’t remember.
We used to be more.
You and him are sitting out in the sun with a fluffy little Bombay cat tucked into your lap. It paws at the buttery dandelions that bloom between you both, his own legs are sprawled out impolitely and your own are crossed to wall around the feline in your hold. His knee knocks against yours whenever he shifts his leg. You lean in, shoulder digging into the meat of his muscled arm and temple resting on his shoulder.
Your body is entirely at ease. His is, too.
Yuuji knows exactly where the thought comes from. And if that dark, creepy place weren’t so infested by evil then maybe he’d feel a little pity for it. But you’re in front of him now, and you’re excited to be here, and your pinky keeps knocking into his as you two walk side-by-side - so there’s no room for pity in his heart.
Your quartet winds up squished into a teal leather booth towards a back corner of Nobara’s selected diner. You and Nobara sit on the interior seats, pressed into the windows, with Yuuji and Megumi caging the both of you in. Megumi having shoved Yuuji down next to you before the boy could even see who was where.
“What were you thinking?” Nobara sits up, jabbing your arm with a manicured finger just to annoy you.
Flicking at her hand, you shrug, focusing on the boards plastered behind the front bar counter for any eye-catching special offers.
Yuuji can feel the tightening of his cheek skin as the eyeball threatens to pop out, it stings when his cheek is forced to split for Sukuna’s eye. His cheek below that parts as well for his lips.
And Sukuna is kind enough this once to be quiet, “Tell her to get the wildfowl bowl,” as if sensing his arising questions, Sukuna continues, “And tell the kitchen worms to make sure the vegetables are soft. Not well, not sturdy,” he sounds disgusted as he says it, “Soft.”
“Hey,” and against everything he’s been told by Gojo, Yuuji puts his entire trust into the curse inside him, “that wildfowl bowl looks good, right?”
You lean closer to Yuuji, arm brushing his as you try to see where he spotted that, “What’s in it? Duck?”
He gives a conformational hum even though he has no idea, “Probably good with soft vegetables.”
Megumi shakes his head, “What does that even mean?”
“When they steam the veggies for longer than usual,” you pat Yuuji’s shoulder while defending him, “I get what you mean, Itadori. Sorry Fushiguro is so judgemental.”
“I was just saying…” Megumi’s voice flutters out of Yuuji’s focus.
Instead, another memory he never made begins to flourish from that black, mushy, rotted back of his brain.
You’re sat in his lap, large thighs perfectly bracketing around your own. A neglected bowl of slim slivers of perfectly browned duck meat sits atop cooling rice, carrots, and green beans. No doubt soft and easy to chew. In your hands is a steaming bowl, larger than the one in your lap, weighed down by thick cuts of juicy meat slabs. Almost like steak, but there’s no outer hide tanned by flame. It’s red, almost raw, and even after trimming the fat - it’s still bathed in pink, fleshy trails.
Grinning so lovingly, you pinch the slabs with your bare fingers and merely giggle when Sukuna’s sharp teeth prick at your skin. His long tongue works to clean your fingers of the excess meat juices as he eats. Two of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady, a third is steadied beside him against the cold bone of his throne, and a fourth resides at the back of your head. Almost big enough to palm the whole of your skull like a children’s ball - he pats and pets and smooths his fingers over the slope of the back of your neck.
Preening under gentle attention, you’re sure to empty Sukuna’s bowl before picking your own back up.
People watch with blood at their feet, none dare to move. Fearful to become the next hot meal in your hand should they disobey Sukuna’s silent command.
As your hands wrap around your cold bowl, a deep grunt reverberates behind you in Sukuna’s broad chest. He tugs the dish from your grasp; plucks the duck meat between his forefinger and thumb and holds it above your nose, forcing you to look up.
He waves it in front of your face, “Open,” and you follow his order, lips parting yet still pitched up in the impression of a pleased smile. And when he flattens the meat to your tongue and you begin chewing - you’re still smiling. That earns another fond stroke down the back of your head, pausing at your shoulder and digging his thumb into the muscle just to hear you sigh, “Good girl.”
Yuuji doesn’t see all of that. He can grasp some vague sense that you two have shared meals he’ll never get to taste, but he never sees the gristle left behind on your fingers or the saliva webbed between your fingers after feeding Sukuna.
That - Sukuna ‘hmph's proudly as he watches you beam at Yuuji over your modern interpretation of your favorite meal - the King of Curses keeps to himself. Selfishly, just as he always has.
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That next morning, you sheepishly prattle into the dusty, creaky classroom with only four rusty, barely used desks and slip into the one by Yuuji. You’re toying with the tips of your hair, eyes bouncing from where Yuuji sits on the desktop beside you and the classroom door.
Nobara sits backward at the desk directly in front of you, arms coiled around the back support of her chair as she speaks and Megumi sits normally beside her - attention solely on his book. Yuuji watches you fiddle with the ends of your hair while pretending to listen to Nobara.
And then he sees it. The new cherry shade decorating your lips, and before Sukuna can sprout and tell him to - Yuuji’s leaning down with his best smile, “New lipstick?”
Jumping at the sudden voice, your rigid posture melts under the boy’s gaze, “Yes, actually. You like?”
It could be puke green and Yuuji would still want it smeared across his face from your kisses.
But despite housing Sukuna Ryomen and battling dreadful curses, Yuuji fails to muster the courage to say that to your face, “Yeah! It’s really pretty.”
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
There goes your annoying heart, hammering just from the sound of Yuuji’s overtly positive lilt. It makes your cheeks burn and fingers skittishly tip-tap against the pencil-scratched desk, “You think so?”
But he’d never lie, you know that.
So even though it shouldn’t be a surprise when he doubles down, your annoying heart won’t stop dramatically tossing itself around when Yuuji nods with a determined, boyish grin, “Definitely.”
It’s all so saccharine and perfect, it makes Sukuna nauseous. Which, in turn, makes Yuuji nauseous.
Face paling, Yuuji jumps onto his feet and excuses himself, rushing out of the room (with no Gojo even in sight, by the way) towards the bathroom.
“Is he okay?” Nobara murmurs, stretching her neck to see outside the door frame, “What a weirdo.”
“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily, “He is sometimes, huh?”
Megumi gags at your tone, “Seriously…?”
“What was that?” Yuuji’s question is spikey and venomous while he stares into the cracked, water-spotted mirror - straight at the little eyeball on his cheek.
“You two are disgusting,” Sukuna stares back into the glass, low-lidded and unimpressed, “Get this over with and ask her out, brat.”
“But what if she says no?” Yuuji reaches up and toys with the little pink hairs at the back of his head, eyes suddenly unable to meet Sukuna at all, “It’ll totally ruin everything.”
“Enough whining. She won’t say no.”
He doesn’t know how it took so long to recognize, or maybe he just needed an excuse to display his old, unbroken knowledge of you before your fleshly little weakling friends even knew it. But he’s seen the little bursts of color and stars and sparkles and all that cute mess before.
He’s seen it many times. It was the only way you used to look at Sukuna.
That puppyish, lovesick wonder as you fluttered your pretty eyelashes at him.
Even when he would return to you in blood and sweat and muck and smelling of the death and despair he expertly wrought.
You were always at least five paces ahead of Uraume, hands bunching up in the pretty flowing silks that decorated your body. Excitedly, you’d pounce and he would hold you. Sapping up your energy and feeding off the way you’d press cherry-tasting kisses all along his hardened face. You served yourself up to him on a silver platter, all your heart and soul and mind devoted entirely and without ulterior motives. That’s why you were always his favorite.
Nothing before or after you was ever up to par. And he felt disgruntled at every turn into different worshippers and concubines and lovers - somehow wronged simply by the fact they were not as you were. It was all so disappointing.
And every now and again he’d flash back to you while with others. He imagines it’s how children feel when they remember a lost or broken or tossed-out favorite toy. That ache of times lost and never feeling quite fulfilled again.
Which is why when he saw you again through this brat’s eyes, he could instantly remember those nights with you. Full-bellied and raw-lipped and your pulse between his teeth.
But Yuuji knows nothing of that, and so when he returns to the classroom - neither of you says anything.
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It’s only the two of you. Everyone else was cast out in the violent, unwilling acceptance that they had done all they could. With no open wound, there was a horrific list rattled off in Sukuna’s ears. Illnesses and infections that attacked the lungs and nervous system and skin and heart - things that would eat you alive from the inside. And when all could be done about that, you remained in bed.
In and out of consciousness and delusional, proclaiming twisted lights and shadowy creatures trying to rip you from yourself.
Perhaps, one of the women called to care for you shyly spoke up, perhaps she’s just too old.
And that was something he avoided admitting to himself.
But it was time now.
With dew still moist on the blades of grass and morning sunlight streaming through the window beside your bed - the bell tolls. Your fingers are stiff in the sheets, limbs cold and stiff when you’re found. Wide, puppylike eyes gaze up at the ceiling and Sukuna has you buried beneath the tallest, most twisted tree he could find in the surrounding forest. And when Sukuna returns from your grave that night - alone - he crosses into a dark tunnel.
It’s cold and solid beneath his feet, paces echoing back for his ears. He keeps his eyes down to avoid maddening himself over the plainness - the displeasure of even glimpsing this tunnel’s repetitive nature.
Until there’s light, golden, with the shrouded, clumsy shape of twisted branches and lanky trunks coming into view at the far open end.
And faintly, like the sweet singing of a beloved music box, he hears the tune of your voice. A high scoop towards the end.
“Itadori, right?”
Sukuna’s feet move faster before he even fully knows he’s moving.
On the other side is you, a hand jammed out in front of you in a polite wave - as if the both of you are strangers. Then that name creeps back up his spine.
Well, it’s not truly his spine, is it? It’s this new brat’s.
But then there’s your honeyed voice again, “Huh, third eye.”
Right. You wouldn’t remember it, would you?
You wouldn’t remember any of it.
Yuuji shoots up, dark sheets tangled around his ankles and cold sweat beading down his forehead - strings of pink hair matted down to his skin uncomfortably. His wide eyes scramble across the shadows of his room, slowly refamiliarizing himself with the expanse and soothing his pounding heart.
He smoothes back his hair, running through the small kinks and knots, “What the hell was that?”
That slicing pain along his cheek shocks him awake further, but no sore, deep voice follows. The eye sits there, downcast. Sitting inside this body is one of the last things he saw for himself, but to exist beside you again is liquid gold just flowing in a river. A river his new body refuses to swim in.
“She’s still awake.”
Yuuji looks over to the red numbers lighting up from his bedside alarm clock, “It’s midnight.”
Sukuna inhales sharply, irritation scorching a hole in his tongue, but he withholds the many sudden hateful thoughts he has towards Yuuji and simply repeats himself, “She’s still awake.”
“It’s weird how obsessed you are with this,” Yuuji swings his legs over the edge of his bed and slips his feet into the slippers you’d gifted him. They’re cheesy and themed after fire engines and just barely fit, but he wears them at any given opportunity.
The eye sinks back into his skin, lips sealing shut, and a thick sludge boils in Yuuji’s stomach. Quiet King of Curses is an unsettling King of Curses, and Yuuji barely finds himself able to tune out the exhaustive wave of Sukuna’s criticisms. That is much preferred to this buzzing silence.
Creeping down the moaning wooden panels to your room, Yuuji raps his knuckles against your door before immediately shuffling his fists into his gray sweatpants.
Something clatters against hardwood, sheets ruffle, and your footsteps thump, thump, thump up to your bedroom door. Your face peeks out from the sliver of cracked doorway, and there’s no hint of sleep in your gaze. You seem alert, if a little lazily slouched against your doorframe.
“Itadori?”
Oh, right. He was here to say something, wasn’t he?
But he can’t possibly find the strength in his tongue, not when you look at him like that.
With some impossible adoration, like you simply can’t wait to hear whatever stupid bullshit he’s about to spout. He feels so unworthy of it all, and he can’t wait to find out more about you and mold himself to it. To become someone you can’t imagine waking up without. To study and be studied, he’s ready to throw himself into the horrors of being known - if it’s you he’s known by.
The air is punched out of him as he speaks, “Can…” you nod him along, opening your door wider, “Can I kiss you?”
Now that he’s so close to the sugary river, he can’t wait to dive in.
“Seriously?” you laugh in shock at the outburst, but when his face persists, you fling the door open entirely, “Seriously?”
Yuuji winds his hands tighter, to stop himself from desperately clawing his way down your throat, “I like you. I’ve liked you…” he’s unnatural like this, red in the face and dodging your stare, “I don’t even know.”
But you do, you felt it when you first saw him. However, you’re not plagued by the chains of past lives, so the implications are lost. Winding your arms behind your back and grinning at Yuuji with toothy glee, “Me too.”
His eyes nail you with that doughy, desperate plea for attention - the need to be seen as himself. And you’ve always been glad to lend it over in plentiful bounties.
That buzz of silence stabs the both of you.
Until Yuuji can no longer tether himself to his pockets, his big hands gentle as he cups both your cheeks. He molds himself to you, hoping that those troublesome flashes of times he never lived will at least serve his muscle memory now.
Your hands twist into the front of Yuuji’s shirt, nails biting into the black, soft, loose fabric and tugging him closer. Yuuji’s lips are slightly chapped, and you can feel the imprints from where he’s bitten them raw. He hisses when you peek your tongue at the smooth spots.
Wrenching your hands back, you quickly run them under and up his sleep shirt - his skin is warm and he gasps against your lips when your fingertips skim along his sides.
Yuuji pulls back, cheeks flaming, and shoulders his way past your bedroom door, kicking it shut behind him and placing his hands over his shirt - finding yours through the material. He grins, chuckling at how you grope his muscle, squeezing around your hands, “Enjoying yourself?”
“Whatever,” you huff, embarrassed, then ripping your hands out from under his shirt and twisting your fingers between his before - just to prove a point - planting his palms below your own shirt, “You try being normal like this.”
Yuuji’s broad palms are still only burning into the soft flesh of your stomach, but his heart is terribly out of whack.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
“You can go higher,” your voice lilts higher, a mere soft whisper as if anything louder could entirely break the poor boy’s brain, “If you want…”
Of course, he does. He’d trade a thousand years with that Sisyphus guy Megumi mentioned to him just for twelve seconds of his hands sizzling up your body. Maybe even just for the chance.
His hands scope higher, palms glued to the planes of your body like he’s trying to scar himself along your skin. The sudden need to leave some lasting impression that he was there - here with you.
Yuuji does his best not to jump when Sukuna’s voice slithers into his ear, polite enough to whisper so he doesn’t alarm you, “Get her on her back. Tongue her cunt.”
You look at him all sweet and concerned when Yuuji’s nose scrunches, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
But he has no idea how to tell you that Sukuna’s words make his stomach churn, and by the time he even tries to form the words he’s thinking about it. Imagining himself on his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands tangled in his hair, and eagerly trying to annoy your friends as much as possible with how loud he can make you. And he feels so, so lightheaded at that.
Yuuji’s eyes are wide, staring into yours with such fire that it almost makes you shy away, “Can I eat you out?”
But you brave his dissecting gaze, heart pounding in your ears.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
And, oh, Yuuji could just about die happy right now.
On his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands screwed into the twirls of his tousled hair and (hopefully) annoying at least a nosy Nobara should she be listening to your soft moans next door.
Yuuji wiggles his tongue into your weeping hole, nestling his nose against your clit with a wheezy little whine. His eyes flutter up at you through the gaps between your shaking arms.
“Get your hands in there,” Sukuna’s voice is muffled against the thickness of your thigh, “Thumb her clit, don’t rely on your nose.”
Crinkling his brows, Yuuji has to bite back his remarks about how Sukuna could’ve told him that sooner. Snaking his right hand over your leg, Yuuji flattens his large hand against your lower stomach and pins your bucking hips. His thumb taking residence on your swollen clit, the bridge of his nose still saddled beneath it.
Your back arches, hips grinding down into Yuuji’s thumb and tongue. He’s messy with it - head shaking just to tease and feel the wetness of your pussy slip and slather across his chin. He tongue-fucks you in earnest, practically moaning into you as he grinds against the mattress. Swishing his thumb against your clit faster when he can feel you tighten around him, chasing the feeling of you cumming all over his face.
He can hear it despite his desperation - the way your breath hitches and throat cinches out a squeal. Your thighs squish around his head and Yuuji has to force his hips still lest he be submitted to the horrors of cumming in his pants.
And it isn’t even the fear of your reaction - no, he knows better than to think you’re capable of making him feel shame. It’s just-
“Yes,” Sukuna’s voice is husky, tongue lolling out along Yuuji’s cheek to lather up your juice, “Yes!”
Yuuji knows exactly who will be making fun of him instead. He smacks at the unwanted presence and takes it as pure luck when Sukuna actually stays down.
He works his tongue out of you slowly, letting you whine and huff the way off your high naturally before peeking up at you. He’s grinning, eyes wide and hands retreating to dig hungrily into the meat of your thighs.
“Hey, I wanna try something,” Yuuji’s shamelessness in licking at his soaked lips makes heat flush all the way to your forehead, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
You nod sheepishly, body jittery with the little bugs crawling beneath your sweltering skin. Yuuji bends to the sudden thought he’s sure has something to do with the curse inside him with a mysterious catalog on all things you.
Yuuji slips onto his back beside you, curled against the cold wall corning your bed with his feet flat against the mattress and legs bent. He uses the unnatural well of strength he’s harbored since birth to squeeze at the fat of your sides and lift you atop of him. He can feel the warmth of your cunt on his pelvis and it wracks him with a shiver, you whine helplessly when his right hand immediately welds to your slit. His index and ring fingers part your lips so his middle can swipe coyly over your clit.
“Hah,” you watch his ring finger abandon its post to join the rude teasing, “Yuuji…”
“I know,” Yuuji sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes glued to where your wetness drips onto his skin, his hard cock peeking up between your legs, “I know, I’m sorry,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry. Especially when he’s continuing to tease you while pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Okay, serious now,” but he dips his fingers lower and prods at your hole, “Serious.”
You giggle, hot-faced, at his focused gaze, “Yuuji!”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he spreads your lips again just to stare from over your shoulder, voice hoars when he finally speaks up, “Alright. Serious now.”
Reaching between your legs, Yuuji grabs hold of his cock - hissing at the contact - and is internally grateful when you raise your hips to meet his head. He presses his forehead against your shoulder when his tip pushes inside you. You feel the hot puffs of air he sends against your back as you continue lowering yourself. He whimpers, the hand at his base flying across your abdomen and gripping your breast. He squeezes and pinches and tries suffocating the embarrassing little noises escaping his lips when you rock your hips down on his pelvis.
“Okay down there?” you twist your head to look back at Yuuji and you’re so glad you did.
He’s flushed down to his chest and his lashes are kissing his cheeks to keep himself together, when he finally opens his eyes fully and looks up at you. His bottom lip is red and puffy from how hard he’d been biting it, “Now I’m gonna do something new.”
This wasn’t new?
Yuuji’s arms stretch under the backs of your knees and come over your shoulders before winding behind your neck, pressing his palms flat against the back of your head. Your arms dangle uselessly at your sides, hands stretching out to graze his ribs and legs bouncing limply as he manhandles you.
His cock bullies itself in your cunt, hips jerking up into the fat of your ass.
Yuuji tries to suffocate down his groans in favor of your sweet moans being punched up from your gut every time he sweeps deep inside you. His lips press tightly just as your own pop open for adorable “ah, ah ah!”s - fighting to maintain his pace despite how badly he wants to pin you to his body and wallow through the wetness sucking him back in for every thrust. Feel your sweaty skin slide and stick against his and whine at the pulling sensation when you peel apart.
Another sudden idea pops into his brain and it’s almost instinctual how he follows it. Besides, it isn’t like he’s going to complain about being brain-blasted with memories that aren’t his if it means not having to hear Sukuna’s voice while fucking you.
Hips never falter in their snaps up into you, Yuuji cranes his neck to teeth at the meat of your nape. He bites possessively and grunts in response to your immediate pitchy moan. Then licking over the marks apologetically.
You try to smother down your breathless moans as Yuuji bullies his cock repeatedly into that spongy spot shooting stars behind your eyes. With an angle and drive and care you’re sure would be lost on any man other than Yuuji - and you’re dumbly struck by the hope that maybe this hard work is only because he’s here with you. And that coherent thought is fucked out of you with Yuuji’s next whimpered request.
“Don’t do that,” he gasps when you tighten around him after a particularly rough thrust, “Please don’t keep it down- wanna…” he moans and the sound flutters straight to your tightening gut, “Wanna hear you so bad, pretty girl.”
Unlatching your teeth from the plush of your bottom lip, flames lap through the wiry twists of your veins - burning through the stretch of your skin and scarring Yuuji. And he eats it up and greedily begs at your feet for more. It shames Sukuna just as much as it excites him to taste the salt on your skin through his vessel’s tongue and watch the way your legs shake and bounce under his vessel’s iron hold. His favorite way to have you and your favorite way to take him.
Yuuji unwinds one of his arms from behind your neck, lowering half your body slightly to swipe his fingers between the junction of your thighs. Right over the slippery spot where you’re creaming on his cock and taking the soaked fingers to your clit. His canines and soft lips battle for a monopoly of your neck and shoulder, swiftly circling your clit with his middle and ring fingers as his hips continue fucking you stubbornly.
“Hng, Yuu…!” you gasp, head throwing back and narrowly missing his - the coil winding tighter and tighter and your walls milking Yuuji tighter and tighter, “Yuuji!”
“I know, baby,” he kisses up your bent neck and presses his flaming cheek against yours, “God, please, cum for me. Cum for me,” his hips stutter, and his breath hitches and oh, he’s so close, “I wanna feel you cum on me, baby- I need it. Need it so bad.”
“Oh, Yuuji,” you dig your face closer to his as if trying to meld yourselves into one body, “‘m cumming,” you clench and he’s damn near wheezing, the knot in his lower belly popping as he feels you cum and drips down his balls, “‘m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…!”
And just to avoid embarrassing himself from admitting he’s in love with you while spitting his own cum in your warm, wet walls, Yuuji strangles down his own final cries with a coppery, abusive bite to his bottom lip.
It starts to hurt, how he overstimulates himself through his slowing thrusts - letting you slip down onto his thrumming, sticky chest. Your legs sprawled across his sides, Yuuji slipping his softening cock from your hole.
You lazily roll off of Yuuji, landing face-first into your sheets at his side.
Yuuji can hear it again, that terrible, grating voice telling him, “Clean her, brat.”
And what’s the most terrible is he knows Sukuna’s command is entirely warranted. Flopping a hand onto your back, Yuuji traces heart shapes into the skin as he talks, “I’ll be right back.”
And when Yuuji’s wetting a soft, clean cloth he braved the hallway (nude) to retrieve from his room, he hears that voice again. It echoes in your bathroom.
“I want a turn when she’s awake,” a pause, “Fully awake.”
“Aren’t you charitable?” Yuuji rolls his eyes.
And that same utterance from hours before rings through Yuuji’s ears once again. Why Sukuna cared so much about petty crushes. Why Sukuna bothered himself by actually giving genuine, helpful points. Why Sukuna was fascinated by you.
“She was my most devoted and favorite lover in her past life.”
The way he says it inspires no respect for Yuuji - underlined in his thriving desire to be worshiped, as he imagines he deserves. Yuuji wouldn’t dare uphold you to that.
When he tenderly presses his thumbs into stiff muscles with a red flush and warm smile, Yuuji knows that for sure.
“Can I stay the night?” he whispers, folding his discarded towels and lazily tucking them by your bedpost on the floor. He feels that same hurried ache in his chest, awaiting for your impatience.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
You hum, lifting your head off the pillow and snickering, your drowsy face pinched to look at him like he’s stupid, “Duh.”
Giddy, Yuuji slips under the blankets he’d slid over you after cleaning the mess from between your thighs, and slots himself right next to you.
Rolling again, you twist into an open space against Yuuji’s chest and under his thick arm. Warmth drapes across your shoulders when he rests that arm over you. He circles his other arm around you and squeezes, grinning so hard he can feel it burning in the balls of his cheeks. Your ear rests against Yuuji’s chest, and you soothe yourself to slumber on the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
Blissfully unaware of the fact that when your bones are rotten and six feet deep, two more people will be curled into each other’s arms. With your same starry eyes that some pink-haired kid falls in love with every time they’re on him.
5K notes · View notes
monicahar · 6 months
Text
“my wife.”
how they address you. why does it make your heart skip a beat each time?
characters; neuvillette, wriothesley
—female pronouns obvi, aaaa this is so random😭 fluff, tad bit of crack, has suggestive themes/dirty jokes cause that's my humor in general, just tryna get into writing again heehaa don't mind me ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ
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NEUVILETTE always accompanies the term with unmatched affection. it rolls off his tongue perfectly like a match made in heaven, coupled with the serene image of you instantaneously appearing in his mind before he even thinks of the uttering the endearing term. he still finds it surreal that you are both even lawfully married, yet the way he calls you his wife is already on instinct. is it too presumptuous of him?
well, in the end, he can't find any means to worry about it when you seem to equally adore the nickname.
“ooohh, say it again, say it again!”
he can't tell whether he married a child or not, but he still obliges your request and calls you his wife affectionately once more.
meanwhile, furina nearly gags everytime she hears him say it so softly—like using any other tone when referring to you would land him in the hands of the fortress of meropide. sure—she might've been the one who set up both of you—but the drama and thrill akin to watching a romance film has delightfully ended, and she can only meddle so much in marital matters. the iudex just might actually have her head in a platter if she were to do anything mischievous at that point.
but while a happy neuvillette is running around announcing 'my wife' this and 'my wife' that, you are currently stuck on what to call him in return, sadly enough.
“at this point, i think i'm just going to call you daddy.”
it was unfortunate with the way he choked on some of the water he was drinking—well, thank goodness he didn't spill much as before. for this wasn't the first time you said something unprompted while he was in peace with his water—he can only internally sigh.
“and what exactly has influenced you to arrive at such a conclusion, my wife?” he does not miss the tiny shudder of your body that followed the endearment. your face burns a tad bit at that, and he softly chuckles.
“your effect on me is no joke, you know?” you pout at his amused smile, “the way you refer to me so sweetly makes me want to call you my dearest husband everytime.”
“i don't recall voicing any complaints. is something else holding you back from doing so?”
you nod solemnly in agreement at that, which prompts him to raise a brow in mild curiousity.
“thing is, i really like calling you by your first name. same with monsieur neuvilette. there's something mildly erotic within it—you get what i mean, hehehe...” he only stares at you, clearly unimpressed, and a bit concerned at the implication. you clear your throat, apologizing under your breath.
“still—it's such a devastating predicament to be unable to choose between the three.” you sigh defeatedly, moving to slump your entire weight on his lap. you mutter, “my dearest husband monsieur neuvillette...mmm, no, that's too long.”
chuckling at your dramatic antics, he plants a soothing hand on your waist, the other fixing your wrinkled clothing as you practically melt against his hold. “and you thought settling on daddy was the appropriate option?”
“i'm not hearing any objections.” you jest, feeling cheeky.
“please refrain from calling me such a thing in the eyes of the public atleast.”
“...huh? you're actually allowing it??”
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WRIOTHESLEY on the other hand, says it as if he's flaunting. it leaves his lips like a taunt each time, indirectly telling the other party 'i have a hot wife and you dont' even though most of the time the people he mentions you to don't even know what you actually look like. it's silly, childish even, but you still love it nonetheless.
sigewinne and the other inmates have collectively told you that ever since you got married, he has never uttered your actual name to anyone else. some find it weird, some find it somehow disrespectful, and some are now convinced he's crazily obsessed with you, and now he's showing it off every chance he gets, much to everyone's dismay.
it's arrived to the point where a small percentage of people have actually forgotten about your name, and now refer to you as the duke's wife, or even duchess, to which you made a face at. that's kind of pushing it by then.
anywho, in the end, it's funny and endearing, maybe even makes you a bit giddy, but there is no way you're telling him that. the situation might escalate even more if possible.
“you know, my wife is very mean to me today.”
as a pair of strong yet gentle arms wrap around your waist, you resist the growing smile on your face, deciding to mess with your husband for a bit.
“is that so?” you continue your chores without a care in the world. he huffs.
“mhm. she won't look me in the eye the whole day, even though she seemed sooo happy last night.” face instantly burning, you hiss as you slap his arm in a fit of embarrassment, pulling a hearty chuckle from the man behind you.
“—and now she's hitting me as well. i can't believe this.” you both know very well he was not fazed in the slightest bit.
“if her husband wasn't such a pervert then maybe—”
his facade cracks as he forces out an awkward laugh, “hey now, baby, you know i'm nothing like that.”
“wriothesley.”
he clears his throat awkwardly, “okay, maybe a little. it's exclusive for you though! my wife doesn't have to be so mean about it, you're making me reallyyy sad here, y'know?”
there it is again, you think. that nickname. that damned word that makes you want to turn around and smash your lips against his and—wait, hold yourself together! don't forget the reason you're being cold to him!
“you deserve to feel remorse. i've been struggling to even move the whole day because of you.”
you go rigid.
you didn't mean for that to come out so bitter...oh no.
“oh. so that's what this is about.” you don't even have to turn around to know that there's a smug look on his stupidly handsome face, his grip on your waist turning into soothing circles as he presses a kiss to your neck.
“if my wife wanted a massage, she could've just said so.” it's husky when it leaves his mouth, leaving you to shiver with the chills he enunciates.
flustered, you completely disregard the way your knees buckle at the endearment laced with that low voice of his, hitting his arm once more, earning a tiny 'ouch' from him.
“pervert. i want rest, not another round!”
“heh, i didn't say anything about another round, my perverted wife.”
“you—” you are abrupt cut off as you yelp in surprise when your feet are raised off the ground, your face now much closer to your husband's as he carries you gently in his arms.
“shhh, just let me take you to bed. if my wife was feeling terrible the whole day, she should've just told me in the first place so she could stay in, don't you think?”
he's right, but you're still angry. “shut up.”
“just letting you know i'm not completely at fault, wife.” you attempt to ignore the furious beating of your heart, face burning at his smug expression. “i'm not the only one who wanted it.”
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hsr version...? if i feel like it...🤔🤔
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rafecameronssl4t · 11 days
Note
Do Sarah and Wheezie get along with reader in the arranged/forced marriage au? It seems like they’re constantly going to dinners and events for readers family; does she ever hang with the Cameron’s? Is Rose a better mother figure to her than her own?
With the Cameron’s || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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A/n: I hope this gives you better insight into reader’s relationship with Rafe’s family plus bonus lil snippet of what Rafe is like during the pregnancy (will go more in depth in another fic)
Warnings: none really (not proofread)
Word count: 1,550
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
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Divider by @h-aewo
"Are we running late? What if the plane leaves without us—" Wheezie’s voice quickly gets cut off by Rafe’s sharp tone, his irritation palpable. "Can you shut up for one second?" he snaps, huffing in frustration. His fingers press against his temples as if the very sound of her voice is grating on him.
The sharpness in his words makes you wince slightly, but when your eyes meet Sarah's across the seat, a faint smile tugs at your lips. Rafe’s temper wasn’t exactly a surprise anymore. "It’s our private jet, Wheezie," he continues, his voice now dropping to a bored drawl as he looks out the window, his hand settling possessively on your thigh, squeezing it as the runway comes into view.
"They're not going anywhere without us." You shift slightly under his touch, not used to these fleeting moments of affection in front of the Cameron's, but you say nothing. It’s a part of your dynamic now—Rafe’s firm grip on control, always balancing on a fine line between caring and detached. Rose, sitting in front, turns around, concern flashing in her eyes.
"Is it safe for you to travel, Y/n?" Her voice is soft, almost maternal, a stark contrast to your own mother. You manage a small smile, trying to ease her worries. "Yeah, perfectly fine. I checked in with our doctors." Your tone is calm, almost rehearsed, as if you’ve had to explain this more times than you can count. Rose nods, satisfied, and returns her attention to her phone.
As the car slows down, Wheezie’s eyes widen when she finally sees the jet, her loud gasp shifting everyone's attention. "Woah," she breathes, her face lighting up in awe at the sight of the sleek aircraft, the one your grandparents had gifted you after the wedding. "Pretty nice, huh?" you tease, nudging her lightly. Her excitement was always contagious, and like always, you let yourself enjoy it.
"Your first time flying private?" you ask, winking at her as she nods vigorously, still mesmerised by the plane. The car rolls to a stop, and Rafe is the first to get out, his movements confident and deliberate. Without a word, he turns back toward you, offering his hand. Gratefully, you take it, carefully stepping out, feeling the cool breeze brush against your skin.
Your eyes sweep across the aircraft, its polished surface glinting in the sunlight as you feel Rafe wrap your shawl around your shoulders. Your eyes scan the jet, taking in its sleek lines and pristine exterior. It’s a symbol of the life you’ve been thrust into—luxurious, yes, but hollow in so many ways.
"Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, a pleasure to see you again," Anthony, the pilot, greets both of you, extending his hand to Rafe’s first, then yours for a firm handshake. "Good to see you too, Anthony," you reply politely, flashing a smile that feels more natural now. While Rafe and the pilot exchange words about flight plans and weather conditions, you glance back at Sarah, who is still staring at the plane in disbelief.
"I can’t believe I’m about to fly on a private jet," Sarah murmurs, almost to herself. You chuckle softly, catching her wide-eyed expression. "You better believe it, Sarah," you say, the humour in your voice masking the exhaustion underneath. It was a strange life—one you still weren’t fully used to—but moments like these reminded you how surreal it could all be.
You step closer to where Rafe and Anthony stand, their conversation coming to a halt as you approach. "Is everything as it should be?" you ask, your gaze flicking between them. Rafe shifts slightly, turning toward you, while Anthony’s face brightens with a warm, professional smile. "Yes, everything is set," Anthony replies, his voice reassuring.
"The flight to New York should be only around an hour and a half." His smile deepens, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling with a sense of familiarity. You nod in acknowledgment, your hand instinctively moving to rest on your belly. The action doesn't go unnoticed by Anthony, who follows your gesture. "How many weeks are you now?" he asks with genuine curiosity.
You hesitate for a moment, your mind blanking under the weight of small details, suddenly unsure. "Oh, uh—34 weeks now?" you reply, though your tone carries a hint of uncertainty. You turn to Rafe for confirmation, and he's already watching you, that rare, softer expression gracing his usually unreadable face. "35 tomorrow, actually," Rafe corrects, his voice gentle as he pulls you closer, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist.
The motion feels natural, almost instinctive, though there's still a flicker of surprise at how he’s been acting since you've been pregnant. His thumb brushes lightly against your side, almost absentmindedly, as if his hand belonged there. It’s a small gesture, but it lingers, and for a moment, you can’t help but feel a sense of unfamiliar warmth in his touch.
He looks back at Anthony, who nods knowingly. "You're in good hands," Anthony says with a wink, glancing between the two of you before excusing himself to check the final details for the flight. You stay pressed to Rafe’s side for a moment longer than usual, the warmth of his touch and the gentle smile he’d given you lingering. As you follow Rafe up the steps of the plane, his hand reaches back toward you, a silent gesture that feels automatic.
You pause for a moment, looking at his extended hand, then slide yours into it. His grip tightens, pulling you up the stairs with a familiarity that’s still strange to you despite how long it’s been. His attention is already elsewhere, but there’s something steady in the way he holds on. The second you step inside, Wheezie lets out a gasp, her eyes wide as she takes in the lavish interior. "Oh my god," she whispers, her voice filled with awe.
Sarah, beside her, shares the same shocked expression, her mouth slightly agape as she slowly looks around. Rose, ever composed, gracefully accepts a flute of champagne handed to her by the flight attendant, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she takes a seat on one of the plush leather chairs. "I could get used to this," she says with a contented hum, easing herself into one of the leather seats as she crosses her legs, holding the glass delicately.
"You know, Rose, you can use my jet whenever you want," you say, settling into the seat across from her. There’s a familiar warmth in your voice because with Rose, you didn’t have to hold back as much. She’d seen you at your best and your worst, and over time, a genuine bond had grown between you two. "You're family," you add with a small smile.
Your words are warm, genuine, and for a moment, you feel a small sense of pride in being able to extend such a gesture. It was your grandparents’ gift, after all, but now it felt like another small piece of the life you were slowly building alongside Rafe, complicated as it was. Rose glances up at you, her lips curving into a fond smile. "Thank you, Y/n. That's really sweet of you, darling."
She lifts her champagne glass slightly in a subtle toast of appreciation. Between Rose and Ward, you had always preferred Rose. You return her smile, her eyes sparkling with the kind of closeness that comes with shared secrets and long afternoons together. There was an ease with her that you didn’t find in Ward's scrutinising gaze.
The two of you had even started forming your own little rituals—getting your hair and nails done together, sharing gossip that never left the salon. In a family where appearances were everything, it was a quiet comfort to have someone you could let your guard down with, even just a little. Rose had been the one who welcomed you the most. From the outside, she appeared cool and distant, but you knew better.
Rose raises her glass slightly in a toast. "Here’s to us," she says, her tone light and affectionate. You chuckle softly, lifting an imaginary glass in response. "To us," you echo, feeling a familiar sense of comfort in her presence. Rose had become more of a mother figure to you than anything else, a relationship that had blossomed in the shadows of family expectations and high society obligations.
She offered you the warmth and guidance your own mother never quite gave, filling the void with her quiet support and understanding. Rose had a way of making you feel seen in a world that often demanded you play a role. With her, it wasn’t about maintaining facades or living up to expectations—it was about the genuine bond you had formed through shared experiences and mutual respect.
There were times you confided in her—about your uncertainties with Rafe, about the overwhelming pressure of impending motherhood—and she always listened, offering advice that felt sincere rather than patronising. She knew the world you had been thrust into, had navigated it herself long before you, and in her own way, she helped you find your footing.
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ma1dita · 8 months
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said he likes crazy
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a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 2.1k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where only he can help you with a bad day, even if he's been avoiding you since your first kiss. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
a/n: SAID HE LIKES CRAZY GIRLS, BUT HE HATES WHEN I ACT CRAZY guys i didnt sleep for this pls tell me its ok
(posted 1/29/24, beta’d by the lovely ellie @lixzey )
He’s been avoiding you. 
To be specific, Luke’s been running away from you. Typical son of Hermes, and a typical teenage boy at that. But if anyone’s asked you what’s up (which, they all have, after almost 4 years of seeing you two not go a day without bickering), it’s just easier to say you’ve been busy.
Okay, so perhaps you’ve been avoiding him too.
Annabeth clocked you as soon as you turned tail after almost bumping into him after archery practice. Damn children of Athena; it’d be nice if they weren’t so perceptive sometimes.
“What did he do this time?” she pipes up, filling the silence of the Big House. It’s late now, and the cabin counselors’ meeting just ended.
“Seeing as you’re the one helping me with the paperwork tonight and not him, you can take a good guess, Annie,” you sigh.
Honestly though, who the fuck kisses someone senseless and then runs away? (Luke Castellan, that’s who.) You weren’t sure what to make of it. You’re a daughter of chaos, after all, not love. But if there’s anyone who can read your emotions better than yourself, it’s him. 
Annabeth stares at her idiot brother through the window as he wanders in the grass outside the Big House.
“That bad, huh?”
“He’s just…being Luke,” you say, blinking slowly as you shuffle through the last of the files you need to put on your dad’s desk before you mutter, “I’m just having a bad day.”
A noise of concern makes its way up Annabeth’s throat. You haven’t had a bad day in a while, in all honesty, not one that makes you act like this, admittedly not one that makes you act like you— the daughter of Dionysus, god of insanity, and not the daughter of Mr. D, camp director.
It was just a bad day until it turned into a bad week, and the voices in your head were starting to get loud without Luke distracting you. Because that’s what he ultimately is, a distraction from your camp duties. 
There’s so much to do and so little time, however, that you hide away your microexpressions that seem to be clawing at you from the inside. The anger, the mania, the hurt. If you unleash it, only the gods can predict how much of camp would be affected by your ‘outbursts’, as your dad likes to call them. Not like you had a choice in the matter. Your days of wreaking havoc are behind you, now presenting yourself as the stellar star of the Camp Half-Blood show. It’s almost a one-woman production with you picking up after your father and trying to tame the traits he passed down.
Thanks for that, D. 
So you give and you give and you give—all your attention and time and effort into keeping camp upright, into being the perfect daughter, that at the end of the day, you’ve drained yourself of who you are with who you try to be.
You look at your tired reflection in the window, before your eyebrow raises at the sight of Luke blending in with the shadows of the tree he’s leaning against. Idiot.
“Annie, would you mind…”
“Yeah, I’ll do cabin checks myself. Might drag your brother to do them with me,” she smiles, patting your arm before grabbing her bag.
“If he complains, let me know. Pollux has heard me bitch enough today.” The small girl raises an eyebrow at that, biting her tongue from responding. You chewed out a lot of people today, acting extra uptight and demanding of the counselors to “just do the right thing.” It was almost insufferable, but despite you trying to hold it in, your emotions bled into their own. Everyone was agitated by the end of the meeting, filing out quickly with biting words and hot tempers. You couldn’t help but notice Luke led them all out of there, and they also somehow got the feeling that he was to blame. 
Smiling at Annabeth in thanks, you watch her walk out to Luke before punching him in the stomach as he grimaces, meeting your violet gaze through the window as he raises a hand. It’s hard to tell if it’s to signal a truce or his embarrassment, but he trudges the way up the path and the door creaks open.
“Heard you were having a bad day,” he mumbles, scratching the nape of his neck. You look at him from the corner of your eye as you continue to write down the weekly to-dos and organize papers for your dad to sign and send back to Zeus.
“Why are you still here, Castellan?”
“So we’re back to that? I thought…” his voice trails off at the sound of his last name, not Luke, not angelface, or anything in between, and both of you are unsure how to proceed. Neither of you have done this before, at least not with each other. You tilt your head to the side, daring him to speak, and it reminds him of a week ago, you bathed in sunlight when he leaned in and kissed you. Though if he did that right now, he’s not sure how you’d react. 
“It’s just a bad day,” you whisper in defeat, lilac eyes wilting in front of him like an overwatered flower.
He realizes then that he cares for you more than he knows how to. And Luke knows what it means when you’re having a bad day.
There’s a deranged look in your eye, a subtle eye twitch and clench of your jaw that is almost insusceptible to the average demigod, but he knows you’re on edge, having taunted you mercilessly until you scream, cry, laugh, or all of the above. But most of all you look tired and in need of someone who knows how it feels to be underappreciated. 
“D’s a great dad to the twins. But I just feel like… maybe he wasn’t meant to be mine,” you whisper, rolling your tongue against the front of your teeth to push back the sob a 14-year-old version of you would let out deep in the dark of cabin 11, having been there for months and knowing Dionysus was your father and waiting for him to see you. To know you. 
“Giving me a hard time about all of this,” you say, hands gesturing to the things you have to prepare for him by morning. You’re overworked, underpaid, and definitely not appreciated— and Luke decides he hates your dad for what he puts you through, not just as a shitty camp director but as a shitty dad. He’s learned to live with the hurt—to use it to fuel his vengeance for how he plans to make the world better. But your ambition makes you change yourself constantly to try to be better. Both fatal flaws are fueled by the ignorance of your fathers. He knows the feeling all too well.
He knows you.
“What do you need?” he asks simply, stepping closer to your form hunched over the desk.
“I can do it, you know. D’s wrong about me,” you whisper, and the words come out sounding so desperate for him to believe the performance you always put on that you avert your eyes.
He doesn’t need to be convinced; instead, he holds his arms out waiting for you to let you make the next move. Luke is neither a fool nor a knave— there are no tricks here, no hidden agenda as he watches you try to compose yourself with a deep breath instead of showing him the real you. The one who’s beneath the mask of being head counselor, your father’s saving grace, and the one who carries her responsibilities like Atlas carries the weight of the sky.
“I know you can. You always have. You really think I’m here to help you file paperwork?”
“Will you let me?” Whether he meant sharing the workload or being there for you, you wouldn’t dare to ask. It’s all the same, anyway—laying yourself bare for someone to peek into your mind and have them not laugh at it.
Suddenly you speak, and the intensity of your tone makes him straighten his posture. 
“Sometimes… Do you ever feel the need to just…”
“What?” He reaches out to tug your hair, and in the dim light, he can see the bloom of your cheeks. You’re shy, and Luke thinks you look soft like this, wary of how he perceives you.
“I shouldn’t.” Fuck the gods. He can see the thought form in your eyes, the heat of your stare tearing through his, and his lips pull into a smirk.
“What was that, Trouble?” 
“Luke, don’t be an asshole…” You say warily, biting the inside of your cheek. There’s no way you’re going down in the history books for cursing the gods because Luke Castellan of all people made you. 
“I thought you liked me like that,” he’s grinning now, and grabbing your chin lightly, mouthing the words to echo your thoughts. 
Fuck the gods.
“Fuck.” you whisper, before your voice fails you, your eyes closing both from his touch and the genuine fear of the heavens falling down from the sacrilege falling from your lips.
“Louder,” he whispers, pulling your face up close to his, “come on, you used to be more fun, Trouble. I believe in you.”
“Fuck!” you say louder and he’s whispering in your ear, urging you to toe the line between perfect child and degenerate.
“Say it again.”
“FUCK! FUCK THE…” you yell before you sigh exasperatedly, eyes widening as you feel the breath release from your chest before your head lolls onto his shoulder. 
“Gods, you’re fucking insane, Castellan.”
He laughs lowly, and it sounds as sweet as sin. Your smiling lips make an imprint on his collarbone, and he wishes they would sear themselves on there for the rest of eternity.
“Hey, I get it from you. Feel better?”
To be seen is a fickle thing. But to be known is something more intimate, and nothing will be able to erase the connection you both share—fatal flaws and all. There are things you can’t change about people, what they are at their core, and so he takes what you hate about yourself with both hands and pulls you towards his chest until you settle against him with a sniffle. Luke tilts your chin up again, a rough thumb wiping away evidence of your watery smile. He thinks he sees a glimpse of a past you—a younger one that dyed his socks purple to make him feel like he belongs here. And he knows now that he does belong with you, right here as he holds you in the quiet of the Big House.
“Ugh, I’ll kiss you later, I still have to finish up here. You’re not off the hook, angelface.” You sigh, pushing away from him before he tugs you back, your feet stumbling as you roll your eyes at his impish expression.
“Let me make it up to you then, Trouble.”
“What, so you run away again?” you scoff, snickering at the sight of his ego being taken down a notch.
“I’ve just….I don’t know how to do all of this with you. Guess I’m worried it won’t meet your expectations, Miss Head Counselor.” A boyish sort of bashfulness crosses his features, and he’s twirling a piece of your hair in his hands like spinning silk.
“I just hope you never stop surprising me. That’s all I ask.”
Your hand touches his wrist lightly, and he sighs like you’ve already taken his breath away.
“I keep my promises. Do you?”
“Who said a kiss was a promise? I meant it as a threat,” you laugh before he’s pressing your hips into the table, nose nudging against yours and suddenly work is off the table for the rest of the night.
You on the table, however, well... that could be negotiated.
“I knew something was wrong with me when your so-called threats got less scary and more sexy,” Luke teases, running a finger on the side of your cheek. His breath tickles your lips, and you can imagine the rage your father would feel if he caught the two of you in his office like this. Besides the blatant defiance, you briefly wonder if your rebellion would get him to respect you more. An interesting thought.
“You’re absolutely terrible. I need to get this done… The gods don’t wait for us.”
A weak sigh leaves your mouth as your brain is already riddled with thoughts of him and he closes the gap between your lips.
“They can wait until morning. For now, you’re mine.”
“You can’t love someone unless you love yourself first — bullshit.
I have never loved myself.
But you —
Oh god, I loved you so much I forgot what hating myself felt like. (via swxrn-in)”
ask to be added to general/luke taglists!
luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings
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sky-high-standards · 1 year
Text
Yandere Emperor x fem reader
set in medieval times. usual warnings y'all should know the drill by now☺
Your kingdom was being invaded and everyone did what they could to save it but the invaders were too strong you watched so many innocent people being slaughtered by the invaders and the survivors were taken hostage including you.
These invaders were sent by the emperor who was a cold and merciless man until he met you~
You were taken into the magnificent palace where you were forced to work for the emperor's wife Imelda, she was an extremely insufferable woman and treated all of her servants like crap. It wasn't the best life, but it could be far worse but unfortunately Imelda and the Emperor were having a rough patch and rumors said he was having multiple affairs with other women, so she was worse than usual.
You were on your way to bring Imelda her breakfast when someone bumped into to you and that person just happened to be the emperor you looked up at him wide eyed and covered in Imelda's breakfast and apologized profusely while he just stared at you he didn't look angry all he did was stare at you as you quickly collected everything and bowed before you ran off but little did you the moment he saw you that nervous look on you face got him excited in a way that no woman including Imelda had ever done something about you just caught his attention.
You walked into Imelda's room to see her crying on the floor you asked her what happened an she totally lost it.
Imelda: That's none of your concern you pathetic slave your lucky to be here but remember your place and stay out it!!!
You then left not wanting to deal with her again. It turns out that the king had just gotten tired of her and sent her off which was great news for everyone since they didn't have to deal with her anymore. Naturally the Emperor had to remarry so he had many beautiful women come to the palace where he would choose his new bride due to you being a servant you had to assist the women being sent but the strange thing was that each time a woman was being presented, he glanced at you for every single one it was as confusing to the emperor as it was to you he was just drawn to you every time he saw you a wave of excitement and...love? came over him that he wasn't used to.
Eventually he chose a wife she was very beautiful and seemed like a very suitable wife, but he never got that feeling when he was around her. The emperor's wife whose name was Miranda was very kind and caring and even befriended you she was great in every possible way, but everyone could feel the emperor didn't love her so poor Miranda made it her mission to win his affection yet nothing worked so she slowly began to give up on his affection while u didn't have to try you started to see the emperor a lot more often and you noticed his cold crystal blue eyes following you as you cleaned and unbeknownst to you it took a great deal of strength to restrain himself from pouncing of you and making you his he would go feral on the inside when you bend down to clean in his bedroom it was embarrassing how you didn't even have to do much to make him hard.
Slowly the emperor tried to have you around more to ease his hunger like "accidentally" brushing his hand against yours or having you bend down to get his pen that he "accidentally" dropped. All he wanted to do was make you his to own every inch of you, but he restrained himself, but it got harder to each time almost as if you were teasing him.
Tell me if I should make a part 2 I'm tired rn
Stay hydrated and safe love Y'all
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bxlladxnnabxtch · 2 months
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Desertion & Destruction
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Rhysand x Reader
❀​🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​❀
Summary: Rhysand discovering you had left didn't go as gracefully as anyone expected.
Read Pt. 1 of Desertion & Destruction - HERE
Read Pt. 5 - HERE
Warnings: Blood, Yelling, Violence, Angst.
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By the time Rhys had realized you’d left the Night Court, you were already over the border.
And Feyre stood, stunned and faintly terrified over the chaos that ensued.
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SHES GONE?” Rhys was livid, indescribably so. His instincts were clawing at him, screaming at him to go after you. He could barely think through the chorus in his head yelling at him that you had left, you were gone. The logical, High Lord thinking part of himself said that he couldn’t do anything, couldn’t go after you. You were over the border, out of his court, and with tensions as high as they already were, he couldn’t risk walking into another court. They would take it as an unspoken declaration of war, especially considering he sent no correspondence beforehand- and that he was so close to Amarantha Under the Mountain. He was stuck.
A cornered animal is almost as dangerous as a wounded one.
Unfortunately for Azriel, Rhys was both.
“She left yesterday and headed straight for the border.” Azriel spoke matter-of-factly, as if he was giving a mundane report to his High Lord about observations he had made while out on a mission. He didn’t owe anything to Rhys, not after the way he had treated you. Right now, he was his brother, first and foremost, High Lord status be damned.
“And you helped her?” Rhys asked incredulously, a scowl upturning his features that had Azriel’s feet spreading, back straightening. Cassian tensed from beside them, noting the warrior stance Azriel had casually slipped into. He became mildly concerned about where this conversation was headed, and if the streets outside the townhouse would survive Azriel and Rhys duking it out in the middle of the entryway.
“What would you rather have me do? Leave her to rot like you did?” Azriel hissed through his teeth, shadows stirring from their dormancy. Rhys bristled, a flash of unrestrained power flared through his violet irises, lighting them up and making them shine with an iridescent hue. The ground rumbled beneath them, the movement causing Cassian to tense, shooting a concerned look at Azriel.
“Easy.” He warned, the tension becoming thicker with each passing second. He could tell Rhys was getting too riled up, his rage combined with his instincts roaring at him to go after you and his power that was no doubt bucking against its restraints, this could turn deadly real fast- too fast. Morrigan stepped in front of Feyre the slightest bit, watching the conversation pan out. Despite how heated it was getting, she seemed content to let them sort it out amongst themselves, although that didn’t stop her from urging Feyre to get behind her should things go south.
Azriel’s siphons blazed a bright sapphire.
He continued, “Turn my affections on to another fae?” He asked, waving his hand toward Feyre in a gesture that told the group he didn’t care much for her. Rhys’ figure grew taunt, like a spring that was wrung tight, ready to launch at a moment’s notice “Plaster posters around when she slips your leash?”
Cassian barely had time to blink before Rhys had Azriel up against the wall. The house shook from the impact, pictures falling off the wall and smashing on the ground as a yelp sounded from behind Cassian. Whether it was from Feyre or Morrigan, he didn’t know- didn’t turn around to find out. Rhys seethed, his forearm against the shadowsingers throat as he bared his teeth. “Don’t talk about my mate.”
Azriel wondered at what point his loyalty had turned over to you. Him and his brothers had grown up together. They had fought countless battles- killed thousands, and saved each other more times than they could count. But still, staring at Rhys as he was pinned to the wall, his High Lords arm digging into his neck as he felt a tremor shake the house under his barely restrained power- he knew he’d gone wrong somewhere.
Cassian jumped in, tearing Rhys off of Azriel as the High Lord struggled to push through him. Azriel ignored Cassian’s attempt to break it up, despite the shout of warning Cassian had shot at him. Azriel stepped forward, inches away from Rhys’ face as he snarled “You abandoned her just like you did Under the Mountain.”
Rhys had plowed through Cassian and was on Azriel in a second. Cassian barely had time to react as he stumbled back, attempting to regain his balance. Mor immediately turned around, ushering a panic-stricken Feyre up the stairs of the townhouse as Rhys and his spymaster threw each other to the ground.
The first punch landed directly in the center of Azriel’s face, making him recoil slightly before sending Rhys into a side table in the entrance to the foyer. Only a grunt left him, barely an acknowledgement of the wood that had slammed into his side before they lurched at each other again.
They scuffled on the ground for a moment, Rhys crawling on top of Azriel as the spymaster attempted to shift his weight, aiming to flip him over. His attempts ultimately failed as he was slugged again, his head being sent careening, cracking against the hardwood floors. He felt it collide, the blinding pain that shot through his head and down his spine, throbbing in his temples. He grit his teeth, his siphons fluttering, the light flickering until it came to a head.
A blast of blue light collided into Rhys, sending him into the wall behind him. A crack formed in the drywall as he hit, the sound audible in the once chaotic room that now sat still. A groan sounded from Rhys as he slumped down the wall, the pain no doubt incapacitating him for the time being.
Before one of them could regain their bearings and go at it again, his shadows swarmed him in a frenzy. It was almost as if they were panicked, the way they zipped around him. He felt the warm blood leak from his nose as he heard the first whisper. A murmur, almost like a graze as it spoke, mutterings of your journey, a fall, a broken wing.
Fuck.
Azriel hadn’t even given half a thought to the mating bond before he and Rhys went at it- of how it would affect you. Though before he could scramble to his feet and rush to you, a voice sounded from behind him.
“Cauldron boil me, what happened in here?”
His head rang, and a jolt of pain zapped through him as he looked up to find Amren staring directly at him, Mor at her side as she looked between him and Rhys. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to will away the headache that began to set in from the blow to the head. “Words were exchanged.” Azriel gritted out, ignoring Cassian as he arched a brow in slight amusement. Mor let out a whistle as she surveyed the foyer, the broken table, dented floorboards, and the pictures that lay shattered on the floor.
“No shit, I was wondering which ones had you willing to blow the entirety of Velaris apart.” Amren said, not sounding too enthused at the state of the room. She sent a pointed looked to the crack in the wall, the drywall caving in slightly and exposing the stunts underneath. Azriel rubbed his temples as he sat up on his knees, one hand coming to brace himself on the hardwood. “The ones that told Rhys he’s been a shit mate.” Azriel quipped, a layer of frustration edging his tone as he couldn’t stop the headache from raging on. “Ah.” Amren tutted, dark hair swaying with her steps as she walked up to the High Lord. “Get up.”
Rhys blinked blearily, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as Amren’s eyes shone with a flicker of that foreign power. It had appeared Rhys had his fill of fighting for the day, and rose to his feet without complaint, only a muffled groan of pain leaving him as he heaved himself up the wall.
Amren snapped her fingers toward Mor, nodding her head towards Rhys as she helped him steady himself. Mor seemed to understand as she let out an annoyed sigh, making her way over to the two as Rhys braced himself on the wall. Mor clicked her tongue as she gave Rhys a once over, but spared the ladder any further comments as she grabbed hold of him and Amren. The trio disappeared in a plume of black smoke, leaving Cassian and Azriel in the decimated foyer.
Cassian let out a snort, his steps avoiding the dents along the scuffed floor as Azriel grimaced weakly. Cassian held out a hand in expectation, waiting a beat before Azriel took it and he hauled him up. Azriel stumbled, tripping over his own footing as he struggled to keep upright. Cassian tsked. “Last time you had a concussion was 120 years ago.” Azriel shot him a glare, flinching when he felt another jolt of pain throb through his temples. He ignored Cassian’s comment, instead gesturing to the vacant space where Rhys once stood. “Where’d they go?”
“The House.” Cassian said, watching Azriel as he made his way towards the townhouse steps. “Figured you two needed a little time apart.” Azriel huffed a laugh as he sat down onto the steps rather ungracefully. A small grin tugged at Cassian’s lips as he watched his brother fumble. “And I take it Amren’s appearance was also your idea?” Azriel asked rhetorically.
Azriel never intended for this to get out of hand. A would’ve been quiet conversation had turned into a shitshow, and he didn’t know whether to feel bad or justified that the family seemed to have been picking sides. “It’s not my fault she’s the only one who can seem to get you two off of each other.” Cassian chuckled at his own joke, the laugh ringing out through the silent house. Cassian knew Feyre was upstairs and had probably heard everything that had gone down, but part of him was glad she wasn’t there to see the brunt of it.  A hell of a first impression she got.
Cassian’s smirk fell at Azriel’s lack of response. He noted the way he stared at the ground, watching the blood from his nose drip and splatter on the floorboards, staining the wood. “You care for her don’t you.” Azriel seemed to snap out of his reverie at the mention of you, his eyes glancing off to the side as he huffed incredulously. “I care about all of you.”
Cassian pursed his lips, surveying the bloodied spymaster. He sighed, looking down at the ground as he shook his head knowingly. “You know that’s not what I meant.” His tone had gone soft, Azriel gritted his teeth. He didn’t bother to respond to the remark, instead slumping against his hand that had come to cradle his head.
Cassian laid a hand on his shoulder, giving him a pat of goodwill. “Keep me updated.” He said gently, before strolling past him and up the stairs.
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tojisrealwifey · 4 months
Text
Crybaby — f. toji (pt. 4)
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ˋ°•*⁀➷ Synopsis: When you realize your husband might still be hung up on his ex-wife.
・❥・requests : rules
・❥・characters: fushiguro toji.
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warnings: mdni, 18+, themes of divorce, brief smut, angst but kinda fluff, slight comfort, sad gumi, toji's ex-wife's name is rei.
・❥・wc: 2.7k
・❥・masterlist
・❥・crybaby masterlist
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"I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry."
Megumi sat slumped in the living room, his mind in turmoil as he tried to process his parents' impending divorce. Toji approached him with furrowed brows, a mix of concern and frustration etched on his face.
In a swift motion, he slapped the back of Megumi's head, gently but firmly.
"Why'd you do that brat?" Toji asks in a scolding tone, his fingers rubbing his forehead to show visually how fed-up he is.
"What?" Megumi snaps, rubbing the back of his head, he turns in his seat to reveal his red and slightly swollen eyes to his father.
Toji takes a look at him and sighs, feeling regretful for taking a harsh approach.
"I know you're mad, but you shouldn't talk to your mother about the divorce that way. She's also hurting." 
Toji had returned home and overheard your conversation with Megumi. He waited for you to leave the kitchen and observed as you headed to their bedroom, likely to freshen up in the bathroom. 
Knowing that you would take a moment, Toji took the opportunity to approach his son for a talk.
"I was being honest." Megumi retorts but fails to conceal his guilt, likely feeling ashamed of how he addressed the issue.
"Megumi, it's not your mom's fault. I messed up years ago, and that's why she's acting this way. I made her feel like a stranger in her own home, and I can't undo that pain.
Megumi sat in silence as his father spoke, his gaze fixed on a distant point, but his attention fully focused on his father's words.
"Whatever went down between us, it's not something you need to worry about. But just so you know, even if your mom and I split up, we'll always be there for you."
Megumi's lips downturned as a gesture of doubt, the air heavy with uncertainty.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because she's your mother. The world can end but that fact will never change."
Megumi's eyes gloss over, prompting him to shut them close.
"Your Ma and I can't stay together because it's just breaking her heart more. "
"So you think she deserves better?"
"Yes." Toji answers without a moment of hesitation. Megumi looks taken aback by his quick response but isn't all too surprised.
"...But...what if she actually meets someone and starts a new family? Why would she bother with us after that?"
"Brat, do you really think your Ma would forget you once she meets someone else?"
Megumi falls into a contemplative silence, his thoughts carrying him away for a few fleeting seconds.
You wouldn't do that, he was sure of it. But he had also believed that his parents would never grow apart.
"I know your mom better than anyone else, and I know that you're her top priority, even more than me." There was not a hint of dishonesty in Toji's words.
As Toji gazes up, he notices your arrival in the room. Your eyelashes were still wet, whether from washing your face or crying, he didn't know.
Megumi takes the opportunity to offer you an apology.
"...Sorry Ma, I'm being so selfish. It's just, everything is gonna change now."
You and Toji stared at each other for a moment before you shifted your focus to Megumi. As you walked towards him, you wrapped your arms around his head while he pressed his face against your stomach, silently sobbing into your dress.
"You're allowed to be selfish, Megumi. You're our son." Your voice is so soft that Megumi couldn't help but hug you tighter.
The conversation ended in a heavy silence, with each of them grappling with the weight of their emotions and the changes in their family dynamic.
You and Toji made sure not to let it affect the atmosphere. The two of you cooked lunch as Megumi stood near the kitchen counter, lending a hand every now and then.
The three of you chatted, mostly about Megumi's college journey and eagerly anticipating his upcoming 18th birthday in less than half a year.
He enjoyed the atmosphere, letting the sadness be pushed to the back of his mind. He savored every single bite of the lunch that afternoon.
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It was dark outside as your husband and son wordlessly prepared for bed. After the confrontation less than a week ago, you and Toji hadn't been sleeping in the same room. He opted to stay in Megumi's room for the time being.
But with him back, Toji was forced to move back into your shared bedroom. You had just finished brushing your hair and braiding it, as you do every night. Toji walks in wearing his sweatpants, bare on top.
"You don't mind, do you?" He asks you, walking over to his side of the bed. 
There was another pang in your heart, knowing your actions led to this. Your own husband was asking if he could sleep in his own bed. Your husband, who rarely gave a fuck about anyone telling him what to do, was asking for your permission.
"I think we're way past that phase, Toji." You joke, trying to lighten the heavy air. But no laughs follow, so you just nod in acceptance. 
"You don't have to ask, Toji." Taking the brush off your lap, you place it on your nightstand. 
Fuck, he missed you.
The two of you were living under the same roof, yet he missed you. He wanted to pull you in and place a kiss on your forehead like he did every night, but he held himself back another day.
"I'm just gonna go check on Megumi. Do you need anything?" You ask as you get off the bed.
'Yeah, you.'
Toji almost says the words on his mind, but refrains, shaking his head instead. Walking out of the room, your steps slowly lead you to your son's room. Knocking a few times, you wait for an indication to go in.
When Megumi verbalizes his permission, you open the door, watching him fluffing his pillow a few times. Just like his father, he too only wore a pair of sweatpants, choosing to go bare from the waist up. 
"What is it?" Megumi asked, confused as he took a seat on his bed. You shake your head at his direct tone, sighing once.
"Can't I check on my own son?" You ask, hands in fists as your knuckles pressed against your hips.
"You can, it's just I'm really tired." Megumi says, getting under the blanket and pulling the fabric up to his chest. His arms folded under his head, acting as a pillow while he closed his eyes.
You 'aww' at his tired face, walking up to him and sitting down beside his outstretched figure. You place a hand against his forehead, stroking it up towards his hair.
"I know, honey. Your alarms are all off, right?" You ask, your fingers running through his hair comfortingly. Softly massaging his head, you felt him relax under your touch.
"Y-yeah..." He answered, but his hesitation was clear to you, making you question him.
"Hm? What's wrong?"
He falls silent momentarily, before turning to his side, still facing you. His eyes remained closed as he spoke.
"Could you...stay here for a while?" He asks timidly, pushing his head into the pillow. You chuckle at his sudden shyness, giving a noise of approval.
Shifting yourself, you get under the blanket as well, lying down and embracing him with no hesitation. 
He softly fights against your tight hold, but you don't falter, instead attacking his face with small kisses.
"I missed you so much, baby 'Gumi." You cooed, pushing his head into your chest, pampering him with kisses.
Megumi stops fighting back, admitting defeat as he eases into your hold. Although he felt like a child again, he didn't complain anymore, easily lulled to sleep due to your warmth.
You pat his head just like you used to when he was 11 and had trouble falling asleep. Unconsciously you start to admire his features, noting what a beautiful boy he had grown to become.
He was handsome just like his father, although his face was a lot more delicate as compared to Toji. You had no doubt he took after Rei in that aspect.
You sigh, closing your eyes as you think about this irritable situation.
Was Rei watching over Megumi, even in her death? You were sure she was. This felt so unfair, yet so inevitable.
Your mind could no longer distinguish between what was right or wrong, who to blame or forgive.
'I'm sorry, Miss Rei.' You whispered in your thoughts, a heavy weight settling in your chest. 
'I know you wished to be here, to raise your son.' Your head swam with unspoken apologies to the late woman, regrets you could never voice aloud despite never meeting her.
"You're probably cursing me for hurting your son like this. Especially after Toji trusted me too," Guilt seeps into every corner of your heart.
You held Megumi tighter, feeling his form against yours. Your eyes closed, shutting out the world as you sought refuge in sleep, a brief escape from the pain.
'I won't let Megumi feel like this again.' You vowed silently. 
"Nor will I ever blame Toji for something he has no control over. That's my promise to you, Miss Rei. So please, rest easy."
Tears slipped down your cheeks, unseen in the darkness, as you clung to Megumi, hoping your love could somehow fill the void left by his mother's absence.
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"Toji...~"
Toji starts to stir, warm breath wafting against his cheek. He doesn't startle awake, but when he does open his eyes, your silhouette greets him.
It was dark, yet he could make out your features. Toji moves his arms almost on instinct, placing his hands on your waist, only to be met with your bare skin.
Toji, coming to his senses now, could feel your nakedness against him, breasts pressing against his chest, legs on either side of him as you lay on top of him.
He lets out a hiss, finally becoming aware of his sensitive cock that touched your folds. You let out another quiet moan against his cheek, placing a wet kiss to wake him up.
"Fuckkk [name]...It's so fuckin' early Ma." His hand smooths over your lower back, urging you to push your cunt down on him.
"Hahhh~ missed you, Toji. Mhmmm~ m-missed this..." You placed kisses against his jaw making him shiver. The coldness of the room finally hit him, realizing his sweatpants had been removed, as opposed to just taking his cock out like he had originally thought.
You slide back slightly, the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. You sit up, ass meeting his lap as you sink down on his length.
"Ohhhh~"
"Shiiiit~ You're so warm, babe." Maintaining your movements, your hips grind against his occasionally. Your thighs were already aching from lifting yourself and settling down.
Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.
Keeping up this pattern, knowing when to clench, fingers toying with Toji's chest, playfully pinching his nipples, his fingers in your mouth, biting down to contain your moans, pussy snug around him, taking him raw in the middle of the night.
Fuck.
You were perfect.
The jiggle of your breasts, flushed face visible in the moonlight, drool spilling from your mouth and down his arm, his other hand gracing your waist with its warmth, your slick forming a ring around his cock.
It was perfect.
But not real.
Toji didn't jolt awake, but his hand came to hit hard against his head in frustration. Wiping his face to get rid of the accumulated sweat, he sighs in defeat.
Eyes still closed, he uses the same hand to feel the area beside him. Opening his eyes, he noticed your side of the bed still empty.
You didn't return?
He checks the small digital clock on his nightstand, eyes glancing over the blaring white numbers.
2:14 AM
He sighs. He caught himself early tonight.
This was the fourth time this week he had woken up after a wet dream about you. This started the day he walked away from you that night and camped out on the couch. 
It wasn't like he had never had a wet dream that consisted of you, but it was never consecutive, and...you were always there to take care of him.
After the confrontation that night, he fell asleep in distress, thoughts revolving around you and only you. He wasn't surprised to have a dream like that.
That was night one.
After having to clean himself up in his son's bathroom (since you were there in their shared room) he decided to just sleep in Megumi's bed, considering it was better for his back. He wasn't getting any younger
On night two, he had the same dream of you riding him, and although he woke up immediately, it was too late as his sweats were already soiled.
They say the third time's the charm, right?
Wrong.
After dreaming of taking you in their car, he climaxed instantly and almost punched himself after he woke up.
However, by today, the fourth night, he had become aware of his consciousness, forcing himself awake.
Turning on the lamp, he spares one look at his sweatpants, just in case, before going on the quest to locate you.
One leg follows the other in getting out of bed, his feet making a subtle 'thud' against the floor with every step. The soft sound was loud in the quiet night, but he continued, making his way to the only place you could be. Megumi's room.
He turns on the hallway lights and notices the door to Megumi's room slightly ajar. He softly pushes the door open wider, the yellow lights of the hallway flooding into the room in the form of a beam.
The beam of light was directly painted over his wife and son's sleeping figures. Your and Megumi's breaths were synchronized, snoring simultaneously. 
The two of you were clinging to each other, and Toji almost had the urge to chuckle at his son's actions, arms wrapped around your waist tightly.
If Megumi knew of this, he would likely dig a hole and climb in, hoping to vanish from existence. 
Something like this was so unlike Megumi, and this is what made Toji realize how his careless words were probably going to ruin this.
Because of bringing up a divorce, his son might never feel the love of his mother again. And nor will Toji.
"I'm sorry, Megumi. But there are complexities... things you're not aware of." "Tell me! Maybe I can help!" "No. It's something only I can fix. But, my heart just isn't ready for it."
No. It wasn't something only you could fix.
He made a mistake. That much was obvious to him, but he underestimated just how many people this could affect, where initially his intention was to be the only one hurt by this.
Instead of walking away, he should have comforted you properly. 
Instead of giving you 'freedom' in the name of divorce, he should have assured you.
Instead of wanting you to find someone better, he should have been the one to better himself.
Rei. He missed her. He loved her. Rei was a part of his life that could never be changed. She showered him with love, gave him a son, and showed him light in the sad dark he thought he could never escape. 
But she was gone, leaving Megumi in her place to keep him out of the darkness that threatened to drown him every waking second. 
So, He held on. For Megumi. He held on when he was shamed by his family. He held on when his family threatened to take Megumi away. He held on when he was on the brink of living on the streets. He held on to provide for his son. 
He held on when he didn't understand how school admissions worked. He held on during parent-teacher conferences where he had no idea how to respond. 
He held on when his son's friends were over and he had no idea how to host. He held on when he was around other parents, him being the only single parent. He held on as he saw couples walking happily with their children when he stood alone with Megumi, missing Rei's presence.
He held on. Until he found you. Because you were there to take him in your arms and hold him close, making sure he never fell back again.
And now he failed you.
Rei was a memory that he would never forget, even in his death. He was sure that memories of her would flash before his eyes as he would lay on his deathbed.
But you...
You would be there to hold his hand, letting him know that he died being loved.
He has to show you what you truly mean, but he doesn't know how.
If only his grunt nature allowed him to speak his heart. Well, he'll work hard to prove his love in any other means necessary.
Smiling softly, he steps back and closes the door to its entirety.
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taglist: @lunesmai @montyrokz @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @sad-darksoul @qoumaina @4y3sh4 @mellohatesyou @abisangelss @blankwashed @m0rganit3 @c4rm1son @eichhiinem @ghostfacefricker6969 @quinnyundertow @orange-stars @lillycore @whosmarjj @keanureevessmile @esposadomd @latorsgatorz @tananaxx @cauqhtz @r0ckst4rjk @creative1writings @numblytemporary @swirlingcurses @lostinneocity @sleppyann @eneiyri @ebiharachan
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a/n: how tf do you do the gradient text on here?! i'm crying in html someone please helpppp!!!!
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moonyasnow · 4 months
Text
Sleeping Beauty's Tentative Prince.
PROMPT : They kiss you in your sleep
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CHARACTERS : Ace, Jack, Malleus, Sebek
CONTENT : fluff and angst, pre-relationship, they are PI-NING, the fae have…strange priorities. or maybe it's just Lilia in particular(Malleus' part), internalized racism (Sebek's part)
I do NOT condone doing this in real life to someone who hasn't consented. But this is fiction so fuck it we ball
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While you were awake, he could not show the affection to you that he wished he could, caught up in his own fears it might not be reciprocated and could strain your current relationship.
But in sleep, you would never know. In sleep, he could more easily deliberate upon his fondness for you, as much confusion, anxiety, fear, hope and longing as they brought him.
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Ace
Ace Trappola portrayed himself as a 'coaster extraordinaire', gliding only where turf is smooth, dancing through life without a care in the world for anything besides goofing off with his friends. Stuff like 'love' and 'romance' wasn't on his radar, deciding he'd rather steer clear of it after an experience dating in middle school that left him feeling so utterly...bored, not really there, as having to live up to some ideal decided by his partner. Was that what all those books and songs and movies was hyping up? He felt lied to! It wasn't fun, and he couldn't understand how his now ex-girlfriend, or anyone else for that matter, really thought of any of that stuff as desirable!
The 'ghost bride', Eliza, was really just a personification of everything that made him want to steer clear of it. After she finally decided to shuffle off this mortal coil for good, along with her equally ghost— to Idia's utter relief— husband, too tired from all that fighting to really feel like it was worth it, he decided he'd rather crash at Ramshackle than walk all the way back to Heartlsabyul.
You declared you'd make it a sleepover, which was why he was laying in a sleeping bag on the musty living room floor of the ancient, decrepit house, creaking and groaning from the wind and its own whims. You laid next to him, on a mattress(unfair of you not to bring a second, by the way), sound asleep. He was kinda envious of you in that moment, you know?
Despite how dead tired he was after not only all the battle stuff but cleaning up the cafeteria on top of it, sleep just wouldn't bless him with its embrace. And desptire how much he didn't want to, especially not after all the other first-years— including Deuce, the bastard— made fun of him for the thought he'd already put into it...he found the topic of 'love' spinning around his head again.
He sure as hell didn't want the kind that Eliza'd idealized it to be. The others claimed that he, out of all the other suitors, did at least seem to know what he wanted. "...someone you can laugh with, and cry with...someone who'll stick with you through all the hard times..." He felt flustered and like an idiot recalling he'd said that for the entire room to hear, even more so due to the fact they'd caught on he was actually being genuine.
Then for some inexplicable reason he got an urge to turn his head to look at you. You looked about as tired as he felt. By that meaning you looked terrible. Or so he'd say if you were asking him why he was staring. Why was he staring? Probably because he was concerned. Just a little bit. Crowley already threw enough shit your way on the regular anyway, now you have to deal with this, too. And he never understood why you still tried so hard.
You, while not even having magic, had still given it your all during those battles, throwing rocks and twigs and even a goddamn wall-mounted candlestick— or well, that used to be wall-mounted, though apparently not as well as anyone thought they were if you could just pull it off the wall— at the ghosts. It phased right through them, obviously, but it'd annoyed and distracted them enough to make his and the others' job a whole lot easier. It was long past time for him to take back everything he said about you the first day you met by the school's Main Street.
You really had become an all-in-one janitor, photographer, therapist, and law-enforcer in one in the time you'd been here. It really wasn't fair. But you'd once told him it was easier since you had him and the rest of the braincell squad around. And he had to admit, it was the same for him. When it came to you in particular. Sure, he liked Deuce, and maybe Grim too just a little bit, but having you there was...special. He's not sure how he would've dealt with the incident at that one absolutely horrible unbirthday party and his Housewarden's total freak-out if you weren't there...or if, before it, he'd have had to spend the night in Ramshackle all alone with just the ghosts for company.
His eyes widened. Wait... He started to feel warm from top to bottom. He didn't mean it like— you weren't— y-you were just buds! You know? Friends. Just friends. And then he wanted to strangle someone when he realized those words tasted bitter in his mouth. Getting up on his elbow and looking at your sleeping face he couldn't place every thought whirring through his head. He thought you were kinda pretty or whatever, sure, but it's not weird to think your friend is pretty! And maybe...
No. Try as he might, every new excuse he came up with for why that couldn't be the case was just that; an excuse. He liked you. As more than just a friend. Maybe he kept trying to deny it because of how different this felt to his middle-school girlfriend. He thought she was cute and all, but he felt so alone when he was with her. Like she was seeing some boyfriend-shaped cut-out in place of him. He never felt alone when he was with you. And he sure as hell would never take a whole day's worth of public transport to school on a break for anyone else.
But it's not like he was planning for this. It felt strange, the way you went from 'best friend' to 'best friend I wanna be with' in his mind. Because, those categories weren't supposed to intersect, were they? Or could they? It just felt weird.
…But when he got past his initial shock, he realized that, thinking of you that way felt…natural. It was strange. Strange that it wasn't something he had to psyche himself up for. Maybe he was more like Eliza than he initially realized, in that way. Not noticing that kind of love when it was right in front of him. Maybe he'd also gotten caught up in that idealization of love, never realizing before that love actually could be with someone like that…someone he cherished like a best friend.
Laying down again and turning his whole body to face you properly, he stared at you. You really were pretty. Not in that way where you see someone and can just tell whether they're pretty or not. Not in the attraction kinda way either. Well, there might have been a little bit of that too. But mostly, there was just something...special, about you.
About your face, and your eyes, hair, shoulders, nose, chin, neck, hands and just— everything. Just looking at you made him feel warm. It usually did. But especially in that moment. It was weird, how just thinking those things seemed to jump-start his heart like some old motor, because now it was racing in the night. He found himself leaning closer, until his breath fanned at your lips. Looking at you from such a close proximity was weird. Sure, he might wrap an arm around or lean it on your shoulder pretty often, and do things like flick your forehead or your nose to see you pouting at him, but you'd never really been this close before. The tips of your noses were touching.
He was planning on moving away. He really was. But then you shifted in your sleep and your lips brushed softly against his.
As quickly as he could, he almost leapt backwards and turned his back to you and hoped to the Seven you didn't realize. Not then, not the next morning— not ever.
He closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, and calm his racing heartbeat.
Sadly for him, he laid awake all night thinking about it and didn't get a lick of sleep.
He kinda hoped he could do it again one day. With you awake this time, of course. Yeah...with you, it might not be so bad. The Underworld would freeze over before he ever told you that though. Well, that was hyperbole. He just wanted to make sure you wouldn't like…laugh at him for it, or something.
…Maybe accidents weren't so bad sometimes.
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Jack
Having grown up knowing that his parents, his grandparents, and most likely their parents and grandparents too, were mated for life— that they found each other and that was it— Jack Howl had always been sure that's how it would go for him too. That when he found 'the one' everything would be easy, and make sense instantly. And when he started to feel a strange new pressure in his chest around you, a desire to protect you more than even his other friends, he was sure that this was it. Yet something happened which he hadn't considered.
The person he fell for wasn't another wolf beastperson, nor any other kind of beastperson or mer who mated for life. You were human. And humans very much did not mate for life, as much as some might claim they would like to. For the first time he started to feel a bit of doubt about his future life plan. He was sure you were 'the one' for him… But now he had to start to contest with the fact that, he might not be 'the one' in your eyes.
So, he thought…he would try to court you in some way. Make it clear he could be a good partner for you.
During the second night at Vargas' training camp, when Grim hadn't returned from going to get blankets with the others, you had become so worried that you tried to run off to go looking for him. And Jack felt like he had no choice but to go with you; he would never risk you running into the shadow while alone. It definitely wasn't the smartest decision, and he had tried to stop you. But you had argued against him, insisting you wouldn't just leave Grim behind, no matter how much danger it put you in. That was something he had always respected about you; you always looked out for those in you pack. And he agreed to go with; he'd do the same for you— and then some— if you went missing, after all. But an hour of walking later, and you both realized that…you were lost. Now, not only was Grim gone, but those who remained at camp would think you both were gone, too.
You two had been walking for hours searching for the way back to no avail, when you had given up, swaying on your feet, saying you couldn't take another step. His eyes shot up in surprise, having been too caught up in getting you both back to camp to consider you didn't have anywhere near his levels of stamina, his ears flattening against his head with both guilt and a bit of embarrassment— guilt at not having realized you couldn't keep up, and embarrassment at not remembering the way back well enough. More like shame, really. He felt sure camp was the safest place for both of you right now, yet in his haste to follow you to make sure nothing jumped out at you, he'd neglected to keep good enough track of the scents around you both to be able to lead the way back. That wasn't how a good partner was supposed to behave! He was supposed to be able to make sure you were safe.
You were the one to suggest, with the night being so cold, that you sleep close to one another. He balked at the suggestion once it left your mouth, trying to hide the furious blush he knew would overtake his face if he let it— letting you see him like that would be way too embarrassing to consider; he was supposed to be cool! So you'd know he could protect you! Not act like some lovesi— o-overly affectionate— puppy! But when you reasoned that it was to conserve heat, to make sure neither of you ever became cold enough for it to be truly dangerous, he had no argument against it, and so was forced to go along with it. He didn't want you to freeze, after all. And no, don't misunderstand him! His tail did NOT just start wagging! And if it did, i-it was just nerves! N-not at being close to you— the shadow! NOT TO SAY HE COULDN'T TAKE ON THE SHADOW IF IT APPEARED—
He had to force himself to keep quiet, lest he put his foot in his mouth again.
He'd assumed you would just be sleeping next to each other. So when you slotted yourself right in his arms, your head on his chest, he froze in place, begging for dear life that you weren't hearing the way his heart was now racing. No matter if you did or not, you soon fell asleep. But Jack, like a protective guard dog (a comparison he didn't like but couldn't exactly deny at this moment) stayed awake for a while longer to make sure the area was truly safe, leading to him becoming lost in his thoughts.
He was confused why you were here at all. You weren't even part of a sports club! Or any club at all, for that matter; running errands for Crowley ate up too much of your time for you to be able to join one. But you were still here. You had claimed it was better than spending that time in school figuring out a way for a magicless student to succeed in magic assignments, Grim not often being fond of cooperating if there was no tuna involved, much to your frequent frustration. But it still really didn't sit right with him that you got caught up in all this when you were only meant to be there to take pictures. He thought Crowley should definitely compensate you for this, since you got caught in danger due to him making you go along with them. But by now he'd wised up enough to realize that was never going to happen. The thought began to really get on his nerves.
It was insane, how Crowley treated you like some slave with no mind or will of your own. Even worse, a disposable one he kept throwing at problems— dangerous problems...he still wasn't over how close you'd come to being seriously injured in the fight at the Mostro Lounge— that should have been CROWLEY'S job to handle. He almost began to growl just thinking about it. The mere thought of you, his m— friend...his good...friend...being hurt in the slightest scared him. Enough that his arms unconsciously tightened around you. The scent of your hair, a reminder you were currently not in danger, put him at ease. He exhaled in silent relief.
…If…
After you both graduate, if he asked you to come with him back to his home in the Shaftlands, what would you say? He'd be able to keep you safe. Make sure you never had to live like this again. What with your status as not being from this world and thus having no legal identifying paperwork, getting a job would probably be hard for you. So he'd get a job and support both you and him. And Grim, of course— if Grim was your pack, he was Jack's, too. He was already sure his family would love you, and welcome you with open arms. And then one day down the line he'd—
He couldn't bring himself to finish his thought, face having grown far too red. But his tail wouldn't stop wagging. He might have thought of it before, but that was when you weren't literally sleeping in his arms. You being so close just...made everything feel too real.
He took a deep breath to clear his mind. What mattered right now was that he would keep you safe. Take care of you. Now…and hopefully, you'd allow him to do the same in the future.
But the fuzzy, excited feelings brought on by the thought he didn't finish didn't leave him, them and your scent lulling him further into a comfortable sleepiness. So close to sleep and overflowing with affection, he didn't even notice, let alone have the sense to stop himself, from placing a kiss to your forehead, snuggling up closer to you to make sure you kept warm, unconsciously smiling against the top of your head as he, too, was claimed by sleep.
It just felt so...right, to hold you.
…The next morning you were confused by why he refused to look you in the eye.
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Malleus
Malleus Draconia, crown prince and heir to the fae Kingdom of Briar Valley, was used to spending his time alone. Used to having only his guards and mentor for company. Used to spending hours wandering through empty stone hallways and rigorously up-kept gardens where none but he, his beloved gargoyles, and the occasional critter dared wander.
Perhaps that was because of him.
Though he came to Night Raven College to 'broaden his horizons', after the first few months or so of classes in which he was left to work alone even on group projects, smelling the fear of his peers in the air, he had all but given up on finding an actual friend. Someone who would stay by his side not out of duty or necessity, but purely out of desire to.
The way you haphazardly seemed to stumble into his life and make a home for yourself in his hollow ruin of solitude had still not caught up with him, even months later.
It was late in the evening, the old decrepit clock in Ramshackle had just struck 12. You were on the couch, leaning against him, asleep on his shoulder as he read a book. Or at least, he had been trying to. For all of five minutes. The soft pressure of your body leaning against his arm had made him lose all focus for anything not related to you. So here he was, staring like a fool at your sleeping figure.
That you, so small and fragile compared to him, were not afraid of the dragon by your side— the horned beast with power enough to destroy most of the school with less than a snap of his fingers— never ceased to amaze him. Yet it was on nights like these, when you were too tired to go for your usual evening walk with him yet still wanted him near, that left him most awestruck. Not only did you say, with your own words, that you wished to be by his side despite your lack of energy…you trusted him enough to fall asleep in his presence. Leaning against his shoulder, no less. It intoxicated his heart with pride, peace and longing in equal measure.
Yet, it only occurred to him the first time it happened that he had never seen another's sleeping face before. At least, not with their knowledge. He had seen you resting through your window on his late-night strolls before. Yet this was different. You allowed him this. If he did not already think you were the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever bore witness to, he did once he saw the gentle, peaceful expression on your face so close. He couldn't help but liken you to the sleeping princess in the old story of the Thorn Witch from his homeland. Sleeping so peacefully…all whilst leaning against a dragon.
His heart ached with feelings he had no words for as he stared at your face, streaked with moonlight, book long since forgotten. Cupping your cheek, he cursed the leather gloves keeping him from truly feeling your skin. In the back of his mind he harbored a fear he dare not put into words: that were he to feel your skin against his, it would be a point of no return, and he would never be able to go without it again. A curse to one such as him, who— his logic was much too aware for his liking— would be forced to grow accustomed to losing the touch of all things in time.
Yet his emotions, not bound by logic of any kind, wondered if you would like that. If him discarding his inhibitions and letting his gloveless hands roam every inch of your body would delight you the same way the mere thought did him. One part of him told him that 'yes, you would'; he was the fae prince, one of the most talented mages alive. He could keep you safe, give you anything you could ever desire. Yet another part of him said 'perhaps not' with barely any hesitation. He was a dragon, feared by man and fae alike for his power which could wipe out whole nations, should he desire to. The conflicting answers left him with a confusing sense of whiplash, not knowing which to trust. Yet, since you were not, unlike many, afraid of him, he found himself hoping your answer would fall more in line with the former…
Heart filled with trepidation and yearning in conflict with one another, he searched his mind for that always comforting anchor of knowledge that was Lilia's words. All that came to mind regarding the matter of kisses was that 'it was not to be done once the sun had set', which to him was good enough reason to force himself to abstain. Or at least, so he'd hoped. He wished to listen to his mentor's words, clung to them when his own young mind felt overcome with what he wished to do instead of what he ought to do…yet found he could not. At least, not fully.
Holding your warm hand in his which was cold beneath his gloves, the heat still slowly seeping from yours to his, yours appeared so small. As Malleus resisted the urge to rub his nose against yours, he felt his pulse beat in his throat. A metaphorical fire lit in the candle of his heart, flaring higher as he slowly neared your lips.
At the last second he managed to force himself to place his gloved hand gently over your mouth, placing a light, chaste kiss to the back of it.
He yearned to traverse further, to not have this self-imposed barrier in his way, to truly know if your lips were as soft as he imagined them to be, if they tasted as sweet. It was difficult to draw a line for himself. But, despite pouting through it, he still did. Once more recalling Lilia's words of wisdom: it would be impolite to steal your first kiss— or at least, so Malleus assumed it was— without your knowledge, after all.
After that he made up his mind to keep himself in check. That was enough for tonight, he thought and tried to return to his book. But his thoughts never stopped drifting to you.
It equally unsettled and enthralled him.
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Sebek
The son of a human father and a fae mother— a fae mother who went entirely against the norms and expectations of her people and culture to marry a human man, a man whose people had hurt hers, and whose union with her had barely been accepted, much less understood— to say that Sebek Ziegvolt feels many conflicting emotions interacting with humans would be an understatement.
He, having seen the scorn his parents' union brought his mother, had vowed as a young child that he would 'never be stupid enough to choose to marry a human'. For he, at his young age, fully believed it was something he had control over. And he still did well into his teens, Lilia's explanation that love cared not for what people had decided, while he admired, revered and respected the older fae greatly, was still not quite enough to persuade him that there could ever be a possibility of him, Sebek Ziegvolt, proud knight of the Lord Malleus Draconia, deigning to fall for a mere human. He couldn’t understand the appeal in any way, shape or form. Human were weak. Fae— he— were strong.
What use had the strong for the weak?
But when you saw him freezing in the cold winter air, you wrapped your scarf around him. He, predictably, began to chastise you, claiming through a runny nose that as a human you were weaker than he and that he could handle this cold, and would not lose to mere weather— which was evidently not the case, as his own words were cut off by a big sneeze, to which you simply laughed. What nerve you had, he thought, for you, a mere human, to laugh at him, Sebek Ziegvolt. To laugh at his weakness! But his thoughts stopped dead in their tracks when you removed the hand covering your mouth and he saw your smile. It was...dazzling. A depiction of beauty which he had only heard described before.
In his daze he almost missed you taking a napkin out of your pocket and wiping away the mess under his nose, still smiling at him the same way.
Though he chided you, claiming to not need it, he was powerless to stop the stutter in his heart at your gesture. The tip of your finger grazed his jaw for a fraction of a second as you withdrew your hands, and it haunted his dreams for weeks. And the gentle smile on your face, showing, as far as he knew, nothing but sincere care for him, was enough to make him feel as though he didn't need the scarf at all.
It was...dizzying.
He saw his displays of weakness as just that: weakness, not vulnerability. In his eyes he must not have either to be able to be a good, no, even passable knight to his Young Master! Deep down he knew his Lord Malleus was already strong enough to not really need a knight. But he could never shake the worry it was on him, that he didn't need a knight because Sebek wasn't knightly enough. That was why he worked so hard. His position, with Lord Malleus, in life, had to mean something. Make him mean something.
But you never seemed to care for how he thought of it, showing him small gestures of kindness over and over again. In time he found he had begun to expect those small gestures, despite how he might still had insisted they were unnecessary. That you continued them despite his insistence...warmed him, just like when you lent him your scarf— which he always returned to you each day, knowing you would wrap it around him again the next.
At first he was sure you must have bewitched him, cast some manner of curse upon him— forgetting the fact that you, as magicless, would not be capable of such a feat— for he could find no other logical explanation for what the feeling of full-body lightness and heart-stuttering you brought upon him could be. At least...none he wanted to listen to; none that made sense to him.
You were human.
What he could never let himself be.
And he, the knight of Malleus Draconia, couldn't make the same strange choice as his mother, no matter how highly he respected her.
Yet whether he wished to or not, they'd taken hold of him, struck his heart like lightning, leaving a permanent mark of you on his very being.
It was shortly after that incident that he had, one evening, come to Ramshackle in search of Lord Malleus, and instead found you on one of the Dorm's benches, looking moments away from sleep. For a moment, thoughts of his search for his liege left his mind. When he asked what you were doing out alone this late at night, interrogating you like you'd broken some kind of curfew Ramshackle didn't have, you smiled and said you were waiting for Malleus to go on your usual evening stroll with him. Something about that gave him a sour feeling in his chest. For you or for Lord Malleus, he couldn't say.
Huffing, he said he might as well wait with you. You said nothing at that, just smiled and patted the spot next to you. Reluctantly, he did.
You sat in silence for a while, him trying to ignore the way so many feelings he couldn't figure out the meanings of stung at his chest. He was so caught up in his mind that it was only once he'd finally figured out something to say to you and took a deep breath that he realized his shoulder felt heavier, and he looked over to see you leaning against it, sound asleep. He was about to begin to scold you for falling asleep while waiting for his Young Master! It was bad enough his Lord Malleus had to endure the tardiness of Silver on acount of the latter's propensity for falling into slumber at any given moment! But when he looked at your face again, the words, for once, froze in his throat and fizzled away.
The way your mouth was left slightly agape, leaving a small trail of drool running down your chin, really should have appalled him, been seen as something pathetic, left him feeling distaste of some kind. But when you'd still smiled at him when he had snot running from his nose, how could he?
Maybe it was fine to…let you sleep. You didn't fall asleep like this often anyway…
As gently as he could, so as not to wake you, he lifted your body up and sat you in his lap, shifting and angling himself to allow your legs to still hang over the edge of the bench, now exchanged for his legs. He looked up at your sleeping expression in reverence, bringing his thumb to wipe away your drool. In his other hand he took yours, which had been hanging limply at your side. With his other arm around your waist to keep you from tipping over, he leaned his head, cheeks burning, against your shoulder, yours falling atop his as he did.
Closing his eyes, he pressed a tender kiss to the back of your hand.
His heart fluttered with a novel tenderness...yet not one he found he minded. He would guard you as you slept. Care for you in your 'weakness', just as you had him in his.
To love a human might not be something he was yet capable of. But, if you would extend to him the same, not a half-fae, but him...
...he might be able to love you.
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First of all I just want to say: Thank you thank you thank you SO MUCH to everyone who engaged at all with my last (and first) writing post! > <
Knowing people like my writing was such a massive motivation-boost to me! I tend to struggle with perfectionism and feeling like my writing isn't good enough by my own standards, so all that stuff is very, very appreciated!
I also wanna say sorry if any of them seemed OOC— aside from Malleus, I don't feel as confident in writing these characters as I do for the characters in my first post, since I don't know them as well yet. A big thank you to @yuurei20 for their TWST character fact sheets (found here) for the help! And also to the people who contribute to the the English TWST wiki!
Lastly: A reminder if you didn't already know, that I do, in fact, take requests! Coming up with WHAT to write is usually the hardest part for me; when I get past that I have a blast! ^^
...Also I think doing the research for this has skyrocketed Sebek up my 'favorite TWST characters' list because damn. That's rough, buddy. And honestly same in a way. His part was definitely my favorite to write.
480 notes · View notes
akutasoda · 3 months
Note
Heyeyey can I request boothill, Sunday and aventurine with a fem s/o who’s always on her phone? Like even when it’s charging or even when they’re cuddling she just has to be on her phone?
screentime overload
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synopsis - how are they with a s/o who cannot put their phone down?
includes - aventurine, sunday, boothill
warnings - fem!reader (no pronouns used), fluff, crack, wc - 721
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aventurine ★↷
↪he can be a bit of a fifty fifty when it comes to his phone. normally the only time he uses it is for IPC relevant things, messaging you or ratio and if he's really bored, mindless scrolling. his work can keep him rather busy and so he doesn't exactly have the time to sit around all day.
↪so he found it quite amusing to a degree when he noticed how absorbed you were in your phone. it really didn't take long for him to notice how you practically treated it as a lifeline because no matter where you were your phone was near aswell - more accurately near to your line of sight.
↪it did bring him some comfort in knowing that you would always see his messages because he could always take an accurate guess that you were on your phone and able to respond as quick as possible.
↪however he did find it quite ridiculous that sometimes he'd find you curled up by your charger, phone still in hand. surely you had other things to be doing? maybe you're phone needed a break from you eventually?
↪it didn't bother him per say, but he would prefer it if, when he saw you after a while, that you actually make the effort to pry your gaze from your phone and to him.
↪sometimes he can be quite the menace, especially when, in the morning, you wake up and search for your phone but don't get very far as aventurine would have you in a near death grip hug.
sunday ★↷
↪definitely isn't a phone kind of person. sure he has one but it's mainly for work or managing the dreamscape and most likely only had a couple of actual contacts - yours and robins. he probably could go very happily without his phone.
↪and so he truly doesn't understand why you're so attached to yours. at first he thought that you probably had something going on that needed managing, but when he saw you day in and day out staring down at your screen, he got slightly worried and confused.
↪it baffled him that you could actually spend so much time staring down at that screen but eventually he started getting more concerned that you were causing permanent damage to your eyes. he's the type of person who would tell you about the damage phones can do to you when he sees you laser focused on your phone.
↪in a similar way, he does find a slight comfort in knowing that if he needs to reach you he can. the one day you don't actually get his messages and respond very quickly is the day he panics.
↪sunday isn't exactly the keenest when it comes to physical affection, but when he does come around and finally gets time off to spend with you, he does not want you on your phone for that. if you get unlucky he might start contemplating hiding your phone.
boothill ★↷
↪another fifty fifty. he isn't exactly literate and so any messages are sent via voice recordings and such, this also probably means that he doesn't spend that much time on his phone in general - especially as a galaxy ranger who has bounties to hunt instead.
↪that being said, his phone gets put through the wringer alot. it isn't exactly his top priority in keeping safe when on a mission, so he either loses it or it gets very badly damaged to the point that sometimes you can't even tell it was meant to be a phone.
↪so he did struggle a bit to to comprehend how and why you spent so much time on your phone. he only started getting annoyed when he realised that your phone was robbing him from your affection and time. boothill did once threaten to eat your phone.
↪he still finds it very ridiculous that you spend so much time in your phone, especially when he has caught you multiple times using your phone while it's charging or when you really shouldn't be.
↪but he doesn't mind too much as long as you actually still give him some affection and don't spend that time with your phone in hand again - especially when he gets time to return to you after hunting a bounty or two.
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taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn
391 notes · View notes
justwritedreams · 11 months
Text
House Of Cards | San
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San x Reader, exes to lovers au!, mafia au!
Word count: 12.013 (hehe)
Genre: angst, suggestive, fluff at the end
Warning: mention of crimes and violence, suggestive, language, San in a pool bc that's a warning. If you don't feel comfortable DON’T READ IT!
Author: Maari
Note: Ok so that was an imagine that i wrote with got7 yugyeom but reading again i decided to repost with san, because i think it fits him more.
Summary: It seems like your ghost from the past came at the best time to save you.
Taglist: @foxinnie8
⪢ Ateez Masterlist
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“Miss Y/N.” She heard her own name echo through the corridor and turned around, coming face to face with one of the security guards whose name she hadn't yet memorized.
"Yes?"
“Mr. Kim wants to see you.”
She took a deep breath. She had just arrived at the hotel, he himself had told her to go up to the presidential suite
“Tell him I’m coming.”
“Now, miss.” His serious tone made her stop in her tracks and look at the security guard with some concern.
It wouldn't be good to go against Seungho's rules. It never was.
She nodded and followed him, the shower she planned to take would have to wait a little bit.
A while ago she would have sighed at the elegance of the hotel but unfortunately for Y/N, she was starting to get used to that life.
Well, used to wasn't quite the word. Conformed was more certain.
As she predicted, the security guard took her to a private area of the hotel, she was sure that Seungho had requested that only he frequent that place and with the great influence he had, it wasn't denied.
Y/N approached him alone and in silence, seeing him sitting in an armchair staring at the glass of whiskey he held.
"Wanted to see me?" She crossed her arms behind her body and swallowed hard when he looked at her.
She hated the weight of his eyes on her.
"Come here." he patted his own leg and she got the message, taking a deep breath before sitting on his lap.
Seungho ran his free hand down Y/N's back and stopped at the base of her lower back, the smell of alcohol was permeating his pores and it was enough for her to realize that this wasn't the first glass of whiskey.
Y/N didn't understand the sudden affection until he approached and kissed her lips, as always in a thirsty and quick way that caused absolutely nothing to Y/N.
Except disgust.
"You didn't call me here just to kiss me, did you?" she questioned, raising her eyebrow.
"No, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it." he approached once more but Y/N immediately avoided it. "Alright, I need you to stay by my side while I partner up."
He held out the glass of whiskey and she held it, reluctantly, her brow furrowed.
"Why? You're not going to introduce me as your girlfriend, right?" His eyes dropped to the small neckline of Y/N's dress.
She would have shifted uncomfortably if she hadn't been in his lap, that might have given him ideas she didn't want him to have.
"Don't be silly, of course not." Seungho's cold tone didn't even shock Y/N. "You know women with your beauty make business easier."
She blinked and blinked, in disbelief.
"Do you want me to seduce a future partner?" she asked, not as incredulous as she would have been in the past. This had been quite common, actually.
"No, I don't want you to go to bed with him." He responded possessively and angrily. "I just want you to give us the privilege of admiring your beauty." his hand ran up the spine to the back of Y/N's head.
She took a deep breath, she hated having to do that ridiculous act but it wasn't like she could say no, she never could.
"Okay, I'm just going to change my clothes." She got up from his lap, she was ready to get out of there, but Seungho held her by the hip.
"No, he's already coming." Seungho got up from the chair and moved his hand away from her body. "You look pretty sexy anyway." he spoke quietly, making her understand that his partner was closer than she imagined.
She lowered her head to look at her own heels, she should have chosen another dress before going to the hotel. That one seemed too short for her own taste but what could she do if Seungho had liked it and the pair of black high heels?
She lived to please him.
Noticing that she was still holding the glass, she downed the whiskey in one go so that she could gain a little more confidence to do the dirty work.
"Mr. Kim." the partner spoke friendly and Y/N swallowed the alcohol, which went down her throat and felt her heart stop when she heard his voice.
She knew that voice…
"Please, call me Seungho. Sit down."
Y/N lowered her head and opened her eyes, watching as Seungho pointed to the front seat and the two did so, with shaky legs she sat in the seat next to Seungho's and her eyes stopped on the future partner's hands.
Years could pass, but she would never forget those hands, not when they showed so many times the love that their owner felt for Y/N.
With complete certainty that this was really who she thought, she raised her head after letting out a sigh and her eyes met his for the first time in so many years, making her press her fingers against the empty glass she was holding.
Y/N felt a mix of emotions, her hands started to shake just with his eyes fixed on her, she didn't fail to notice that he analyzed her quickly before turning his gaze to Seungho, she got goosebumps from head to toe and asked herself how could he still do that to her? And what was he actually doing there?
"Choi San, right?" Seungho asked, making Y/N return to reality.
"Correct."
"Your secretary called me."
"We are very interested in a partnership with you, Seungho. I believe it will bring benefits to both parties, as my partner has already explained everything to you." the two maintained a rigid posture but unlike Seungho, San was elegant.
Of course, the gray suit San wore was very different from the hoodies he had and that she remembered, it suited the formal atmosphere they were in but it went beyond his appearance.
San's aura was different, as he was ready for that.
"Yes, it was a very productive meeting."
"I'm just here to finish the deal." San quickly looked at Y/N and a smile appeared on his face.
This disconcerted her, and she left the glass on the arm of the chair and clasped her sweaty hands to try to hide her nervousness.
"Well, I can pay you the first million right now if you want." She rolled her eyes discreetly, Seungho loved showing off how rich he was. "Just a minute." He got up from the chair and looked at Y/N quickly, walking away, leaving her alone there and ready to collapse.
If Seungho wanted her to seduce San now, that was a bad time.
But it wasn't surprising since he had never learned to read the atmosphere when she was near, he never noticed when she was uncomfortable or happy, because for him it didn't make any difference.
She looked back at San, still feeling vulnerable about being in front of him again after so many years and took in every detail of his face that she had never been able to forget.
He was different. His face was no longer so thin and youthful, now his features were stronger, more masculine.
The black hair that she remembered falling into his eyes was now perfectly pushed back and the side cut made him look much more handsome and mature.
Even in a suit and tie, she could see that he wasn't as thin as he used to be.
He was no longer the boy she had known, he was a man and very attractive one.
Her body vibrated for her to come closer and she felt her fingers tingle to touch his face one last time, like she hadn't had the opportunity in the past.
He continued to analyze her from top to bottom, much longer, which made her tremble all over.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to find the courage to do what Seungho had told her to do.
"You're getting a great deal, you'll be very pleased." the attempt to use a seductive tone failed due to the way her body was reacting.
She looked like a robot programmed to say that.
“That’s what they say, but it’s not the business I’m interested in.” San seemed to know very well how to use his voice in a low tone and something inside her warmed in a way that hadn't happened in a long time.
Y/N was left with no response and Seungho returned, probably thinking she had gotten what he wanted.
Little did he know that the spell had turned against the sorceress.
“What do you say we play poker while we settle the transaction, San?”
"It would be amazing." he got up from the chair and Y/N's eyes followed him.
She got up from the chair but made to go to the other side towards the uncovered part of that area, but she didn't even take two steps as Seungho held her arm tightly.
"Where do you think you're going?"
“I think the little act of being your luxury slut was enough for today.” she responded firmly and he tightened his grip on her arm, to the point of hurting it.
“Don’t play with me, Y/N, I want you by my side until the transaction is over.” His eyes were fixed on her face and for a brief moment, she was afraid.
Looking to the side, she noticed that San was watching them a little further behind Seungho, with his jaw clenched and with a rigid expression.
“I’m not going to sit at that table and watch you play that fuck poker that destroyed my life.” she turned her gaze to Seungho who now seemed to have understood. “You really like torturing me, don't you?”
“One day you’re going to have to stop blaming the cards, my love.” he let go of her arm, and Y/N controlled herself from crying.
It would be pointless and pathetic.
He walked away from her with a wry smile and passed by San, who stood there for a few seconds staring at Y/N until he shook his head and followed him.
She left there, feeling suffocated and her legs were shaking like never before, no longer able to control her tears, she leaned against the wall and looked at the clear sky, all the memories that she had been forced to bury came back with much more intensity.
[...]
7 years ago
“Get out of my house, please.” she begged without having the courage to look into his dark, gentle eyes, she would weaken if she did, especially if he was crying like her.
“Y/N, explain to me what’s going on.” he pleaded and she had to choke back a sob.
"It's over. Go away." She touched the door handle with her back to him, she was about to open it when he gently grabbed her arm.
“Something happened, right?" she took a deep breath before looking at him, feeling her heart break into thousands of pieces and sink into her stomach.
“What happened is that I don’t want you anymore, San. Don't insist." Her voice came out shaky and she knew she hadn't convinced him yet, she was about to break down in front of him but she couldn't. “We’re too young, it would never work.”
"Are you sure about that?" San slowly let go of her arm and looked at her completely lost.
She didn't respond, just opened the door with a silent message for him to leave.
No scene broke her heart like that when she saw him leaving with his head down, hands in his pants pockets and a tear running down his face.
She needed all the strength she didn't even know she had left to ignore the urge to hug him and tell him how much she loved him. Instead, Y/N closed the door and fell to the floor, now without needing or being able to control her crying.
She cried about so many things, she couldn't even list or understand what he cried most about, but she was sure she had made the biggest mistake of her life.
She had never felt so empty.
She was angry, scared, sorry and most of all, she was sad.
Because she had lost the only joy in her life, for a mistake that wasn't hers, for a decision that wasn't hers.
“Daughter…” Y/N looked at the stairs and saw her father coming down the steps, deflated and with a guilty expression.
She passed her hand over her face, drying her tears and got up from the floor. With long and silent steps, she walked past her father with the intention of locking herself in her room.
She would still have that night to sleep in her bed.
"I'm so-"
“Don’t finish that sentence.” She turned angrily, glaring at her father as she sighed. “I did what you wanted, now leave me alone.”
[...]
In recent years, Y/N has tried to erase that memory from her head. She didn't want to relive it like she did in the first nights when her life had changed, when she was brought back to reality with nightmares.
She didn't want to feel again the hurt she had towards her father for doing that to her and even less did she want to feel her heart break again when remembered San being devastated because she had broken up with him.
Even though she had managed to bury that day in the depths of her consciousness, that emptiness was always there.
And now here she was, being haunted by the ghosts of her past and crying like the heartbroken teenager she once was.
She wiped her face, thankful for her makeup being waterproof, approaching the balcony and surveying the bustling city.
A wave of nostalgia washed over her. She missed home, the happy moments she lived that were now just memories, she even missed her father. But mostly, she missed who she used to be.
The girl who had dreams and insecurities, which were always hushed up by San.
He was always everything for her, the kisses he distributed on her face and the convinced way he said that she would achieve everything she dreamed of, made her believe at the time.
She stayed there for a long time in silence, alone and without security guards watching her every step, making her feel free.
“It’s a wonderful view.” Y/N jumped in fright when she heard San's voice so close.
Looking to the side, she noticed he was next to her.
How and when did he get there?
“Yeah, the city is amazing.” she replied, still feeling her heart beating faster, she just didn't know if it was because of the scare or just because of him.
“I wasn’t talking about the city.” she felt San's eyes boring into her and a shiver ran down the back of her neck.
Since when was San so direct like that? Who had he learned to be like this from?
“Aren’t you supposed to be playing poker or something?” she changed the subject, still looking at the city.
“An hour ago I was.”
Y/N frowned.
Hour? Had she stayed there for an hour?
“So you closed the deal.” She took a deep breath and found the courage to look at him.
San nodded silently.
“You don’t seem very happy about this.” he smiled sideways, leaning on a pillar.
Happy? She didn't even know what that was anymore.
“I just hope you know what you’re getting into.” she shrugged, sighing.
“Why don’t you explain it to me?” San looked at her intensely and she returned it, unable to look away.
She could, a part of her screamed at her to do so, but she knew what she had to lose and she couldn't risk it, not now that he was there and she couldn't protect him from Seungho's fury.
"You wouldn't understand."
“Maybe I should warn you.” he took a step towards her while keeping his tone serious, without looking away.
“I'm not kidding, San. Be careful."
 Y/N's intention was to get out of there quickly, but he stopped her from continuing when he gently grabbed her wrist.
The contact made her stop, her heart beating faster. Feeling his touch again was everything she had asked for, being close to him was much more than she thought she deserved.
“So let’s be clear that I’m not kidding either.” She could practically feel his breath, his face was so close she could touch it at any moment if she stayed there. “In nothing I did or said today.” She swallowed hard and looked at him, seeing the conviction in his dark eyes and once again, she was left speechless.
She wanted to cry, for so many nights she had dreamed of those same eyes and it seemed like a dream that he was there so close to her and at the same time so far away, because even though he was the San she knew, he was no longer the same.
He had a certain power, a fire in his iris that she had never seen before, that she couldn't identify.
But it was very different from the way Seungho looked at her as if she were his property.
Y/N's eyes went down to San's lips, they looked extremely inviting and she wondered if it still tasted the same, the attention she returned to San's mouth didn't go unnoticed by him as he wet his lips with his own tongue.
Before she could get even closer to him, Y/N blinked a few times until she remembered where she was and who she was with, if Seungho arrived at that moment it wouldn't be good, especially for San.
Thinking about it, against every cell in her body she pulled away from San and his touch.
“Have a good day, San.”
She got out of there as quickly as her feet would allow her before she did something she would regret later, she didn't look back and was thankful once again that she was without security guards.
She arrived at reception and Seungho was leaning on the counter with his phone to his ear.
“Y/N!” he called with his free hand and turned his attention to someone else on the other end of the line. “Matt, I already took care of all that.” She approached him paying attention to the conversation, it was probably something related to their return. “You know she's good for much more than that. Okay, I’ll be there.” he hung up, huffing.
"Problems?" Y/N asked without the slightest interest.
“I have to receive a load today from the other side of town and they require my presence.” he informed, irritated.
“I’ll go upstairs and get our bags then.” she pointed to the elevator and was ready to go when he stopped her, raising his hand.
“No, Y/N.” he scratched his head and she knew something was wrong. “I haven’t finished the entire transaction with San yet.” she crossed her arms, waiting for him to finish. “And you know this hotel does business with me.”
"I know that."
That part of the city was heavily influenced by Seungho. Hotels, banks, even the hospital operated when and how he wanted.
“A luxurious dinner will be held to welcome Mr. Choi.”
“What’s all this-” she frowned.
“I need you to accompany him to this party and explain that I had an unforeseen event but we will finish tomorrow when I arrive.” he interrupted her and Y/N felt her expression fall.
Would she be alone with San for a whole night by his side?
"What?" She didn't want to show despair but it had become difficult after that. “No… I can’t… I can’t.”
Explaining to him what was really going through her head was out of the question.
“I need this partnership. Matt will be with me and you are the only one who can be here representing me.”
“Postpone receiving the load then.” she shrugged and he took a deep breath, visibly irritated. “I’m not you, I don’t have to deal with your business.”
It wasn't part of the role she had played in those years. For business, she was just the statue that if she winked at the partners, with the right clothes, she could make them close the deal faster.
Seungho was too jealous to let her be alone with a man for two hours, let alone an entire night.
This then meant that whatever the deal was with San, he didn't want to risk losing it.
Annoyed, he held Y/N by her arm with a somewhat unnecessary force, making her look into his eyes, to see that he was serious.
“I'm not asking you to accompany him, I'm ordering you to.” In fear, she lowered her head, giving up. “Don’t worry, my love.” He got closer and his mouth met her ear. “Tomorrow we will have all day to make up for the time we lost.”
She wanted to laugh but held back, sleeping with him was the last thing on her mind at the moment.
In fact, her mind was too busy with images of San in a suit.
[...]
Y/N spent the entire afternoon getting ready for dinner at the hotel with the help of a small team that Seungho hired to make her look magnificent.
Small because she had begged him, she wasn't a Hollywood actress after all, a football team taking care of her appearance for a simple dinner was unnecessary.
He had made it very clear before leaving that she must use every trick to convince San to wait until tomorrow. For Seungho, this was her only role, to seduce his partners.
Seduce, never go to bed with them.
Because for Seungho, she had to have her eyes focused only on him, and according to his theory, the more instigated to have Y/N, the more the partners would be committed to maintaining an agreement.
Basically, she was there to make these men fools, believing that one day they could have something with her behind Seungho's back.
At eight o'clock at night she was ready and couldn't deny that the job had been well done.
The red dress was long with a strap on one side and a detail at the waist that made it much more elegant, black sandals on her feet and ruby earrings that Seungho had given her, like the countless expensive jewelry she had been receiving in recent years.
She believed that he gifted her with expensive and luxurious things just to keep her with him, as if it made her wonder if she could live without flaunting the good life she had achieved.
Each piece of jewelry increased her indifference towards him, because it made her feel like she had been bought by him again.
The makeup had highlighted Y/N's face in an elegant way and she insisted on wearing red lipstick, she was trying her best to do the job, finally her hair was left loose but left aside.
She even tried to take a deep breath when she left the room but she couldn't lie to herself in that situation, she was nervous. More than that, she was anxious!
Seungho had left one of his security guards to take care of her, of course he wouldn't be that stupid, but when she arrived at the main hall and saw San smiling at some people he was talking to friendly, Y/N totally forgot about security or anything else.
It would be cliché to say that she couldn't take her eyes off him, but it was the truth, he looked wonderful. Breathtaking.
He wasn't as formal as he was in the morning, he was wearing a suit but without a blazer, just a black vest, the sleeves of his white blouse were rolled up to his elbows with the first two buttons open and his tie was slightly loosened.
He had his hair pulled back but with a few strands in his face.
God, even if he tried hard for 20 years he wouldn't be able to get ugly.
San realized he was being watched and looked towards Y/N, smiling brightly at her and he came to meet her quickly.
“Miss Y/N.” He took her hand and kissed it gently, like a perfect gentleman and it was enough to make her heart skip a beat, and her legs tremble slightly. “You look gorgeous.”
She smiled restrainedly.
“Thank you, Mr. Choi, I must say you look really nice too.” she tried to keep her tone formal to keep the theater for security.
"Would you like something to drink?" he looked at the security guard and she understood what he was planning.
"Of course." she replied and he put his arm through hers, she looked at the security guard who was watching them closely. “You don’t need to follow me, I’m fine.” she ordered and he agreed, stopping where he was and San took her away.
“The compliment was true.” he said without looking at her face.
"So was mine." she replied quietly, feeling her cheeks burn.
“You got a babysitter from your boyfriend, huh?”
Y/N could feel the jealousy in his voice and it made her smile discreetly.
“The babysitter isn’t for me, it’s for you.”
They arrived at the mini bar and he ordered two drinks.
“Is he afraid you’ll fall for my charms?” he turned to face her and got closer, making Y/N get lost in his scent.
That was it, she was intoxicated by everything about him. The smell, his voice, the heat of his body, which wasn't enough because she knew he was much hotter than that, she just needed to get closer.
“Actually, he’s afraid you’ll run away.”
“And you’re here to make sure I stay?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.
She searched in her head a decent answer but all that came out was just the truth.
“I’m here to make you stay.” she said even though she wished she could do otherwise.
If she had the power, she would make San move far away from her and Seungho, for his own good.
“And how do you intend to do that?” he took a step forward, their bodies practically touching. It was incredible, it seemed like he could read her mind.
Because she wanted to get closer, enough to put her hands on his broad shoulders.
“He asked me to seduce you.” she replied quietly and couldn't take her eyes off his mouth.
“Can you do it or will I seduce you first?”
Y/N didn't imagine that San would be so sexy like that and as dangerous as that game was, she was loving it.
What she remembered was a much shyer and not so confident San.
She held back the urge to bite her lip.
“You’re going to need a lot more than whispers to seduce me.”
Of course, as if she could convince herself of that.
He had just approached her and she was already feeling weak in the knees.
“That’s what we’ll see.” San smirked and walked away at the exact moment the bartender brought the drinks.
He handed the drink to Y/N who drank some while observing the room.
She managed to identify at least three more Seungho's bodyguard, and it wasn't surprising since she knew he would never leave just one of his men watching her.
Not when she had already tried to escape from him a few times in the past, without success, obviously.
No matter where she went, whoever she asked for help, Kim always found her and brought her back.
She was so lost in her analysis that she didn't notice when San brought his mouth to her ear to whisper.
“Can I show you something?”
She suppressed a smile and took a deep breath before looking at him, seeing him smile so close to her.
His smile still had the same effect on her, as if the sun had risen in the cloudy sky. It was the light in the midst of darkness.
It wasn't like she had the strength to deny it.
He held out his free hand and she took it, being led out of the room soon after.
The party took place near the pool and only a thick, red curtain separated the two places, Y/N sighed as she observed the full moon, which was brighter than usual, she had never seen it so beautiful.
San let go of her hand only to sit on one of the lounge chairs, she turned to face him when she felt the touch disappear and came closer but still remained standing.
“What did you want to show me?” she asked, quite curious.
“Nothing, I just wanted to be alone with you.” he confessed, resting his hands behind his head after placing the drink on the floor.
Y/N swallowed hard at the movement, as his arms were in evidence and she thought it more prudent to remain silent, this time returning her gaze to the crystal clear water of the pool, feeling not only her cheeks heat up but also her heart.
It seemed like even if she wanted to bury the old version of her that night, she couldn't.
“I know it’s been years, but I want you to know that I never gave up on you.”
She looked at him at the same moment, San didn't take his eyes off her and spoke with such conviction that it left her speechless.
All she wanted was to be able to throw herself into his lap and kiss him all at once. Only if the situation had been different, if they hadn't met again like that...
But time wasn't fair to them, it wasn't in the past and it wasn't now.
“I think I prefer it when you flirt with me.” Unable to contain herself, she spoke out loud and wanted to beat herself up for it.
“I can do that too.” he shrugged, getting up from the lounge chair. “I can do a lot of things.” He got closer and she felt her body go still at the short distance. This was the time she should take a step back, right? “Especially the ones you want.” she felt his hand on her wrist, going up her elbow in a pleasant way and making goose bumps go up her arm.
Damn it.
Y/N held the glass tightly, trying her best to remember what she was there for and especially what she shouldn't do.
San noticed the tension and took the dronk out of her hand, ending the sudden affection, placing it on the floor but Y/N wasn't prepared for what would come next, thinking he would just stare deeply at her like he had been doing.
But one of his hands found her waist while his mouth found her cheek, placing a soft, lingering kiss on the warm skin.
“You shouldn’t tease me like that.” She closed her eyes, letting herself go for a few seconds.
“Afraid to like it?” he asked close to her ear and his mouth went down to Y/N's chin, involuntarily one of her hands tightened on the arm that was holding her waist.
"This is wrong." Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.
It was? Wasn't she on board with Kim's plan?
“But you want that." He bit her chin, and she could feel him smiling.
"No." although her mouth said something, Y/N's body said the exact opposite. She dug her nails into San's arm and felt her body getting weaker and weaker.
She mentally begged him to kiss her and end that miserable tension.
“Y/N…” she stifled a moan when she heard her name being spoken so quietly by San’s seductive voice.
It was wrong and dangerous, but why did it feel so right?
She felt that San was about to kiss her, she felt his breath against her mouth and no matter how much her rational side screamed for her to stay away, her emotional side was controlling everything because that was what she wanted from the moment she saw him in the morning.
She had missed so much being in his arms, feeling loved, protected.
She felt San's lips so close, her own hands going up to his shoulders and she was ready to give in, when his lips touched hers just enough to make a slight tickle, the image of Seungho with a gun appeared in her head.
"No!"
Y/N pushed San and suddenly he no longer held her, not even his perfume covered the radius they were in, she opened her eyes to find him startled.
She took two steps back, placing her hands on her forehead, now regaining lucidity.
What was she thinking? How could she think of putting him in danger like that?
“Don’t do that” she trembled, feeling her eyes tear up. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“But, Y/N…” he took a step towards her and she raised her hand, asking him to stop right there.
He obeyed, confused and hurt.
"You wouldn't understand." she shook her head to get the image of Seungho finishing him off from her mind.
“Maybe if you explained it I could.”
She ran her hand over her own arm, not knowing what to say. If he continued to insist, she would eventually give in and things wouldn't end well.
San followed the movement and his eyes stopped at a specific place.
“What’s that scar on your arm?” he asked and she automatically stared at her own skin.
Y/N blamed herself for not choosing a long-sleeved dress, mainly because the scar was recent so it was lighter and she hadn't even remembered about it.
"I need to go." Once again she deviated from the subject, if she continued there she would end up saying everything she shouldn't have and that was definitely out of the question.
She would never forgive herself if something happened to San because she had told him everything, even if that was her wish. To finally clear things up, after so long.
She ran out of there as best she could, avoiding passing through the room where that damn party was taking place and hoped that San wouldn't go after her, deep down she knew he would leave her alone after that outburst but she only became calmer when the elevator doors closed with a bang, her inside that cubicle.
Unable to control it any longer, she let the tears she had been holding back for a long time fall, it seemed like an eternity before she arrived at the presidential suite.
She stumbled into the elevator because of her tears and took the opportunity to take off her heels right there, she no longer cared about her appearance as she had been taken care of for hours. Seungho's plan hadn't worked anyway so screw the party, the appearances and all that stupid luxury.
When she arrived, she threw her heels in any corner of the huge, cold room as she closed the door behind her, ran her fingers through her hair and took off her dress without any will.
All she wanted most was to lie in bed and sleep for a good twenty years.
And even she tried, she knew it wouldn't be easy to sleep that night, not after everything that had happened and to make even worse, everything she had tried to forget about the past was playing intensely in her head.
The memories she had with San, all the first times with him, from when they met until the day she broke up with him, her happy childhood and her difficult adolescence of having to deal with her father's addiction that affected the entire family.
Hugging the pillow, she let the tears fall again as she lay there alone once again, as it had been repeating since her father had spoken the harsh words that had changed her life.
[...]
It was already past 10 am when Y/N decided to leave the room and go to the pool, the weather was nice to take a few dips and that would help her forget everything that had happened, at least for a few hours until she was away from that hotel.
She put on a very simple white bikini, a long white button-down blouse so she wouldn't be walking around the hotel with nothing covering her body, white flip-flops and big glasses to hide the dark circles under her eyes from last night.
Luckily for her the pool area was empty and Seungho's security hadn't come after her so far, which meant she was free for who knows how long, she left her things on one of the sun loungers and her sunglasses were also left behind.
It didn't take long to enjoy the warm water, trying to wash away any traces of guilt and uncertainty.
After wetting her hair and swimming a little, she leaned against the edge, closing her eyes and feeling the sun on her skin as if it were giving her strength back.
She tried not to think about anything, just wanted to enjoy some time she didn't usually have, alone and quiet with her own conscience.
She felt the water become more agitated but she didn't pay any attention, she was feeling so light that she didn't even care that someone was there too.
The pool was big enough for that.
However, when she realized that someone was too close, she couldn't help but open her eyes and look at whoever it was.
Y/N need to rest her arms on the edge of the pool when she saw San standing in front of her with a shy smile and no shirt.
She had a very privileged view of San's bare torso, she knew he had gotten stronger but she couldn't imagine how much and she couldn't even disguise the way her eyes observed San's broad and strong shoulders, going down his chest. She couldn't see his abs clearly because the water was getting in the way of having a clear view of how defined he was, but realizing that he was there in just black swim trunks made her lose her train of thought completely.
Even with the water distorting a little, she could see how thick his thighs were.
Okay, San had turned into a personification of some Greek god and she couldn't stop looking at him to burn every bit of him into her memory, which conflicted when she remembered what he was like in the past.
She had never imagined that he could be so… hot.
She cleared her throat, trying unsuccessfully to hide it, and looked away, missing the opportunity to see his raised eyebrow.
“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.” she spoke quietly.
“I was worried about you.” he admitted firmly and she swallowed hard.
“Let’s not talk about last night, please.” she pleaded, sighing and looking back at him.
San was serious, not mad at her, but he seemed to be trying to figure her out.
“We will need to talk one day, Y/N.”
“If that's why you came here…” she started to leave, but was stopped by San who put his arm on the edge of the pool and brought his body closer to hers, still without truly touching her. "What do you want?" she asked, pretending to be impatient.
He put his other arm on the other side, trapping her there and Y/N had nothing to do but look him in the eyes.
“Does he hit you?” it was simple and direct, making her jaw drop slightly.
"What…?" She released a breath that until then she hadn't even realized she had been holding. "Who?" She tried to pretend she didn't understand.
San cocked his head to the side, only to stare at her more intensely.
“Kim Seungho.” he spoke the name between his teeth. “Does he hit you, Y/N?” he asked, this time his tone became more serious and his eyes locked with hers.
He already knew the answer without her even answering, but he wasn't going to give up so easily because the only thing he needed was for her to tell the truth and then they could find an alternative.
"No!" she replied desperately, her voice became even thinner. “I mean, where did you get that idea?” she crossed her arms, trying to be defensive but she was actually scared.
If San found out the truth, she didn't know what he might do.
“That scar wasn’t made for a silly reason and now seeing you in that bikini, in addition to seeing that your body is still beautiful, I can also see some purple on your legs and belly.”
She swallowed hard, trying to think quickly of a convincing answer.
“The scar… I've had it since, uh, I was a kid” she forced her throat to stop stuttering but his attentive eyes weren't helping. “and the purple ones… well, I’m very distracted.”
“Do you think I don’t remember all your scars, Y/N?” He brought his face closer to hers and she didn't have the strength to turn away. “I had the image of your body in my head for years, I remember every inch of you.” she felt her body shiver and sighed slowly. “Tell me the truth, Y/N. Please." he pleaded.
One of his hands touched Y/N's face, making a pleasant caress and she couldn't stop herself from closing her eyes when she felt the soft touch.
“That’s a low blow.” she spoke quietly, fighting her eyes that insisted on closing.
"And yeah?" she could feel he was smiling. “You know, I remember you loved a kiss below your ear.”
Of course she loved it mainly because only he knew about it.
She couldn't think about much or open her eyes because his mouth was already practicing what his voice announced.
Y/N put her hand on San's shoulder and found that the sun did a great job of warming their bodies, but their skin wasn't the only thing that was hot there.
Her hand squeezed San's exposed skin, suppressing a moan as she felt his breath right next to her neck. She was unable to reason with that sudden approach, nor even breathe properly like a normal person.
"So?" he asked, lips touched her skin as he spoke but Y/N was too lost in that sensation to remember what his question was.
San moved his face away and she opened her eyes at the same moment, missing the contact, he looked at her, urging her to respond.
"What?" was all she could say.
“Y/N, I’m waiting for an answer.” He raised an eyebrow and she felt her legs tremble again.
Her mouth suddenly became dry and she had to use her own tongue to wet it, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by San.
“Do you think… I have the capacity… to talk after this?” she was panting and hadn't even kissed him.
San laughed softly, his dimple showing.
“Good to know I still have some power over you.” he said, cocky.
“It’s so much more than that, Sannie.” he smiled sadly at the old nickname. “I have always loved you and I will always love you.” her hands went to his face, making him look deep into her eyes. “But I can’t tell you, forgive me.” she said, seeing him take a deep breath. “Please don’t continue with this transition, cancel this damn partnership. This is all too dangerous and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. I just…” she looked down, unable to continue, water was calm but a storm was still coming.
San brought a hand to her chin, making their eyes meet again.
"Just…?" he urged her to continue.
“I’m afraid of losing you again.” she confessed, straightforward.
San didn't say anything and neither did she dare continue, she had already said too much, he then brought his face closer to hers and ended that distance once and for all, Y/N could only close her eyes when San's soft and warm lips touched hers. So softly that it made her sigh against the kiss.
He didn't deepen the kiss or move his lips, he kept the touch for a few seconds that lasted for eternity and Y/N felt her eyes water even though they were closed, the hand that was still on Y/N's chin went down to her the back of her neck when he broke the kiss and her heart seemed to want to jump out of her mouth, she didn't even know how she was still standing.
Without the courage to open her eyes, because she knew she would cry like a child in front of him, Y/N didn't expect San to hug her so tightly that it sounded like a goodbye, the kind that leaves you breathless.
She grabbed him by the neck and rested her face on his shoulder while the tears ran down her face and got lost on San's skin, she could have stayed there hugging him forever.
San ran his hands down her spine and caressed her, feeling his breath on the back of her neck, Y/N closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of being safe even if for that brief moment.
The sun burning on their skin lasted as long as the hug, which none of them had any idea how long it had lasted, but it had been enough to strengthen Y/N.
“Never forget what I said.” she spoke quietly and walked away, feeling cold and empty again when she no longer had San's warmth surrounding her, and swam towards the stairs.
She wanted to keep that image of him smiling and welcoming her, that was the reason she didn't look back as she got out of the pool and picked up her things from where she had left them.
She hoped that one day San would understand why she kept a secret from him and who knows, he could even one day forgive her. 
She knew that she had hurt him in the past but it wasn't because she was cruel, she was just trying to protect the one she loved. Including San.
She looked at her feet on the way back to reception and was ready to go to her room, but that wasn't exactly what happened.
A pair of expensive shoes stopped in front of her, stopping her from continuing on her way and she would have been rude if she hadn't been taken by surprise.
Seungho was in front of her with his arms crossed and his expression not at all pleasant.
“Beautiful scene, I think it deserves applause.” his voice was cold and he didn't even blink, she knew what was coming next and even so it didn't stop her from starting to shake with fear. “I’m just going to ask once, what the fuck was that?”
[...]
Y/N tried not to sob loudly but despair and fear were speaking louder this time, she didn't even know which floor she was on and she couldn't even think about stepping into reception.
With all of Seungho's security guards downstairs, all that was left for her was to sit on the floor of one of the floors of that hotel while she felt weak and helpless.
She brought her hand to her mouth to try to muffle the sound but when she felt liquid in the corner, she pulled it away and stared at the blood on her finger.
Her blood wouldn't be the only one that would be spilled, she felt anger take over her body and rubbed her hand with the other to try to get the blood out.
“Y/N?”
She looked to the side and even though her vision was blurry because of her tears, she recognized San and sighed with relief. 
San knelt in front of her and touched her chin, the lighting in the hallway was low but it didn't stop him from noticing some things, Y/N brought a hand to San's face to make sure he was really there with her.
"What happened to you?" He made to put his hand on her face but decided not to when he saw the tears that were still flowing. "Come with me."
He picked her up slowly, Y/N felt her ribs throb but ignored it as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He walked to the end of the hallway and opened the door to one of the rooms, from which she could see that it was the one he was staying in. 
San placed her carefully on the edge of the bed and ran to lock the door, turning on the light in the room and Y/N's eyes watered even more.
In addition to irritation, shame too.
“Can you turn off the light, please?” her voice was weak and choked, she saw San's shoulders sag and looked away from him.
He did as she asked, leaving the room for a few minutes until he returned with a first aid kit.
Y/N took a deep breath and he approached, kneeling in front of her and held her gaze, when she saw that he wasn't going to say anything she looked at him and nodded, accepting that he would treat her injuries.
San did everything necessary and when she hissed in pain, he gently stroked her arm, looking closely at her.
“It was him, wasn’t it?” asked quietly after a quite time in silence, she noticed that he was controlling himself to remain calm.
Without the courage to respond and without any confidence in her own voice, she just nodded, listening to him take two deep breaths.
“How long has this been going on?” Y/N stared at him firmly this time, seeing him with his jaw clenched.
She wasn't ready to hear the answer but it was fair to him, even more so now that he was in danger.
"7 years." she replied quietly, shrugging her shoulders.
San got up from the ground, scratching the back of his head and then clenching his fists.
“That’s since…” his breathing got heavier. Since she had broken up with him, yes. “Y/N, you need to report this guy.” He knelt in front of her again and looked into her eyes, which were already teary again. “You need to step away.”
Carefully, San held her hands, bringing the comfort she needed at the moment.
"I can't."
"You must." he encouraged her and she shook her head, looking in any corner of the room.
“San, I can’t.”
"And why not?" he asked in disbelief.
“Seungho is influential. If I send him to jail for a few days, he might…” she trailed off, completely panicked just thinking about the possibility.
"Might what?" he instigated, he needed an answer and one that would convince him.
“Go after the one I love.” a sob was stuck in her throat. “You don’t understand, San. I have no choice, I can’t betray him, I can barely say no to him.”
He slowly pulled away and she took the opportunity to bring her hand to her face, wiping away the trail of tears.
Her head hurt, her eyes burned, her body was tired and she didn't know what to do. She was terrified.
"What do you mean by that?" He narrowed his eyes and she looked down, already knowing where he was going. “Can’t you say no to anything?”
She nodded silently.
It was difficult to speak out loud, even more so to relive everything she had been through with Seungho in recent years, even though she felt absolutely nothing for him other than contempt, touching those wounds hurt.
“If I dare to say no, this happens.” she pointed to her face.
San looked at her worriedly, his gaze more attentive than ever.
“Y/N…” she fell silent, waiting for him to continue. “Did he force you to do something you didn’t want to?”
San didn't need to say or emphasize the specific word because she didn't need to, she just lowered her head in shame. She couldn't look him in the eye.
"Yes." Y/N didn't even hear her own voice admit it.
All that seemed to have been enough for him, who was now shaking and keeping his hands clenched, the vein in his neck was popping out and he stared at the wall behind Y/N with hatred.
“I will kill him with my own hands.” he spoke slowly, getting ready to get up
"No!" she held San by the hand, preventing him from taking any steps. “San please don’t go.”
She despaired. That's what Kim was wanting.
After having "taught her a lesson", Seungho was very clear that he wouldn't stop until he killed San for having dared to touch what was his, for having had the audacity to kiss Y/N.
She couldn't even say anything, it wasn't like she was going to tell the truth about San's identity or else things would be much worse. Seungho wouldn't only kill San, he would torture him for finding out that he was the one she loved.
And she knew he wasn't joking, his bodyguards were in the lobby to make sure San wouldn't leave there. It didn't matter if he was alive or dead.
"Don't ask me-"
“Don’t leave me here alone.” She tried to get out of bed in a hurry but all she managed to do was trip over her own feet thanks to her throbbing leg.
San was faster and held her by the waist, helping her sit on the bed again very carefully.
“Y/N, don’t get up.” His hand stopped on her thigh, checking if she was okay.
“I just want to forget everything that happened.” she sighed, looking at him sadly.
Maybe it wasn't the best time for it, but San was the only person who could make her forget even her own name and that's what she needed.
“I want to be your Y/N again.” she touched his face, the words seemed to have an effect on him, he understood what she meant but was reluctant. “I just want to feel your touch, even if it’s for one night.”
Y/N's hands slowly trailed down his neck to his hard pecs and his eyes wavered momentarily.
“You’re hurt,” he reminded, voice lower. “I can't-” she put her finger to his mouth, shushing him.
“The only thing I can’t take anymore is this distance.”
San swallowed hard and held her wrist, still undecided whether to push her away or not. It was clear that he wanted this as much as she did, but he was afraid of hurting her.
“I thought that’s what you wanted to do in that pool.”
He looked at her firmly, reading if she had any trace of doubt, but when he realized that she was convinced of what she wanted, he brought his body closer to hers so slowly that it left her intoxicated and his hands went to her waist. 
His eyes focused on her mouth and he brought their faces closer, leaving her anxious for what was to come.
But San didn't rush things, quite the opposite, still without putting their lips together he ran his nose along the length of Y/N's face from one side to the other, feeling the soft texture of her skin against him, one he had never forgotten.
Y/N sighed and closed her eyes, her hands still on San's chest, and her heart beat even faster when she felt his lips gently touch hers, making her grab his shirt.
San kissed her carefully and affectionately, his warm, wet lips dictated a slow rhythm that indicated he was just savoring and making up for the time they had lost.
San broke the kiss and she was already panting, without the strength to open her eyes, and then he started a new kiss a little faster.
Y/N took the opportunity to bring him closer, pressing their bodies together and made him move, leaning forward, taking his hands from her waist to rest on the bed as their tongues finally met again, thirstier than ever.
Y/N hugged him around the waist with her legs while her hands went to his back, while San took the opportunity to rest his elbows on the mattress so that his body weight wouldn't hurt her.
He treated her like a porcelain doll, fragile to the point of breaking and although she found all that care very cute, it still wasn't what she wanted.
So, she grabbed his shirt and pulled it up, that useless piece of clothing was just getting in the way anyway, he broke the kiss just so he could take it off while her hands went back to his chest, going down to his abdomen that she stroked.
She felt his skin crawl between her fingers and smiled, now she could see perfectly how much he had worked out over the last few years and she just couldn't stop feeling the texture of his warm skin, as if she could memorize every inch.
"Surprised?" he asked, his husky voice making every hair in Y/N's body stand on end.
She bit her lower lip.
“Not quite the word I would use.”
San laughed softly and brought his face to her neck, where he began to distribute wet, hot kisses, making her rub her hips against his and scratch his abdomen while she closed her eyes.
“There’s someone desperate here.” he confirmed and bit her earlobe, making her squeak softly.
Not because it hurt, but because she liked it. Very much.
“You teased me enough at that party” she replied and he decided to move the kisses to her chin, smiling.
"Thank you love. Red looks great on you too.” He bit her chin as he spoke, now kissing her neck and chest even further. “But I prefer you in that bikini.” He moved the neckline of the dress she was wearing enough to sink his nose between her breasts and her hands automatically went to the back of his head. “Or maybe without it.”
One of San's hands found the end of her dress and began to lift the fabric, he moved his own torso enough to be able to remove the piece from her, which she desperately helped him pass over her own arms.
He took the opportunity to kneel on the bed and observe her in just her underwear, she felt not only her cheeks but her entire body heat up, he looked at her as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world, enough for her to forget the bruises on her face and body.
He tilted his body to stay on top of her, still without letting all his weight fall on her, he distributed kisses along the entire length of her shoulder while she sighed, she was at his mercy and just wanted to enjoy the caresses he distributed over her skin.
San could do whatever he wanted with her. It could be dangerous, uncertain and even wrong, but she wasn't strong enough to fight it and being there with him, she knew she would be okay.
After years she would finally be where she always dreamed, back in his arms being enveloped by the love he still showed for her, which seemed to be ever greater than the last time.
There with him, sighing and moaning his name, it was as if no time had passed.
[...]
Y/N slowly woke up, her body still hurt and her eyes burned from the brightness of the room. So she brought her hands to her face to rub her eyes. 
It was then that noticed she wasn't in the presidential suite, patted the other side of the bed that was empty and remembered the night before.
Taking the sheet that covered her body with her, she sat on the bed, brushing her hair away from her face and at the same moment San came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
She smiled discreetly as she stared at his bare and strong torso, memories of the previous night flooded her mind and her cheeks burned.
She had no reason to be shy, but she really was after what they had done last night.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." San smiled widely and came over to give her a peck.
"Good morning." She replied and he stopped, looking at her with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Nothing, it's just that… it's good waking up with you by my side."
She smiled, feeling like a fool in love.
"You say like you never slept with me."
"Well, when we were dating everyone thought we didn't sleep together." he shrugged and sat next to her on the bed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “That we were two inexperienced innocents.”
"That's because no one knew you were a pervert." she replied jokingly and his fingers moved to her shoulder, giving her a nice caress.
"You didn't complain about that pervert." He pouted and she laughed, tilting her head.
"Because I love him." she replied, moving closer to kiss him.
However, before they could make an intense noise of sirens could be heard throughout the hotel.
Y/N pulled away, scared looking around as if she could guess what was happening and San sighed.
"What is that?" she asked more to herself and watched as he got up from the bed.
"I wish I had told you sooner."
She frowned.
"Told what?" asked but San didn't respond immediately, he approached the suitcase that was on top of the armchair in the room and opened it, taking the towel off his waist and leaving himself in just his underwear in front of Y/N who was watching him curiously.
She saw San put on dark pants and then a white t-shirt, which really highlighted his torso, but the shock came when he took off a vest and she felt her jaw drop when she realized it was bulletproof, she knew because she saw the word police written on the front. 
Feeling her head spin, she had to put her hand on the bed to keep herself standing, or in this case, sitting.
"San, what is this?" the weak voice asked and he finished putting on his shoe.
"Come with me." he asked and she looked at him confused. "Do you trust me?"
She didn't even need to think about the answer.
"Always."
San approached the bed and reached out to her, Y/N held it and got up from the bed.
He separated his own clothes for her to wear besides her thin dress and she did so, still not understanding what was happening, San made her wear a blazer that looked huge on her but covered most of the bruises on her arm.
He took her out of the room and they took the elevator, she was distressed because San didn't say what was happening even there alone, keeping his hand on her waist and his expression too calm.
She was already internally biting her cheek and when she got out of the elevator she saw that the place was full of police officers, uniformed and armed.
Y/N followed with her gaze a police officer who passed in front of her with a very large gun, hearing San's low laugh that made her continue walking forward.
In the hotel lobby, she was able to get a sense of the situation. Several of Seungho's henchmen were kneeling on the floor with their hands on top of their heads while some of the police officers watched them quite angrily, others walked around the hotel looking for something.
"Detective Choi."
Y/N turned her head so fast it made a noise, San patted her back before reaching out to the approaching police officer.
"Kang." he greeted his colleague, adopting a more serious pose.
"Everything is in order, the evidence and witnesses are being taken now."
San nodded and the officer turned his attention to Y/N. "And Miss-"
"Don't worry, I'll walk her to the police station myself." San spoke firmly as her eyes widened.
Police station? Would she go to the police station?
The police officer nodded and left, leaving San and Y/N alone.
"What is happening?" she asked quietly, and he held her shoulders gently.
"Follow me." she wanted to understand what was happening but his eyes said that everything would be fine and she believed it.
That's why she silently agreed and let San take her outside, towards a black car, he opened the passenger door for her and she got in without question. San got in on the other side and started the car while Y/N put her hands together to play with her fingers, waiting for him to start talking.
“Where do you want me to start?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the street.
Y/N shrugged, laughing lightly.
"You are cop." she confirmed and looked at him, seeing him nod his head.
“When you broke up with me 7 years ago, I knew something was wrong.” he took a deep breath. “I was always convinced that you would never do that to me if you didn't have a very strong reason, we always talked about plans for our future and one night you just didn't want it anymore?” He glanced at her, seeing that she was immersed in the explanation, he continued “The next day, I returned to your house, I was determined to talk to you more calmly but when I arrived at the corner I saw that you were leaving with your bags from home, what surprised me most was the fact that you said goodbye to your mother but you didn't even look at your father's face.”
Y/N took a deep breath. That scene of saying goodbye to her parents was like a blur in her head, the only thing she remembered was that she began to understand the meaning of being alone.
“Your father was your hero, your rock and you simply ignored him before getting into a car that had never been in your house before.”
“It wasn’t the easiest day of my life.” she commented, resting her head on the car seat.
“I know, me either.” San stopped the car at the traffic lights and turned to face her. “That’s why after I saw you driving away in that car, I knocked on the door.”
Y/N's jaw dropped.
"What?"
“Your mother answered, she was devastated but it seemed like she knew I was going to show up, when I walked in… Your father was drinking, he was crying and saying he had destroyed your life.”
Y/N felt her nose itch, indicating that her eyes were about to water.
“I asked them to explain to me what was happening, I don’t know, I wanted to be able to help in some way.” he shrugged and the car started moving again, with San turning his attention to the street again. “Your father told me he bet you on a game, that he was an addict and that he had lost the only thing that mattered. At first I didn’t want to believe it.” he laughed, humorlessly. “That was the script for an Italian mobster movie, but your mother confirmed the version and said they were forced to hand it over to you or else everyone would suffer the consequences.”
She took a deep breath, staring into space.
That was the truth.
She never chose Seungho, she was forced to or he would start killing everyone she loved, starting with her father. 
“After a few days of crying like a teenager I was, I went to talk to Hongjoong. His uncle was a police officer and heard the story, he told me who the Kim family was and what Seungho was capable of since at the time he was starting to take over a good part of the west of the city. He told me that there were rumors among the police that he had gone after your father and instigated his addiction to cards because he wanted to have you.” she swallowed. She already knew this version of the story and still reacted the same way. “He had become obsessed with you and had done everything on purpose. I was so angry, I had never felt such hatred as I did that day. I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling that.”
Y/N looked at him, there was a certain anger in San's words and his jaw was clenched.
“That day I promised myself that I would take revenge, that I would make him pay for everything he had done to you, for stealing your life. Our life.”
San looked at her and smiled sadly.
“And I joined the police, I wanted to do things the right way.” she smiled lightly, it was obvious to her. San was always very correct. “But it wasn’t that easy. I needed to prove to everyone that I was capable, I went through a lot of things in the police to reach the day when I would finally have the opportunity to start investigating the Kim family.”
“And you didn’t deny that chance.” It wasn't a question.
San parked the car and she looked outside, seeing that they were already at the police station, he rested his arm on the steering wheel and turned towards her.
“I couldn’t, we would only have this opportunity to catch him. He didn't know my face, he didn't know who I was, we created a way to bring our team closer to him. And it worked, he believed it.”
She took off her belt and turned to San.
“You already knew you would find me.”
He nodded and held one of her hands, giving it a gentle caress.
“I know it will seem strange but I followed your every step, it was part of the investigation.”
She felt a shiver run down the back of her neck.
“Am I going to be arrested?”
San pressed his lips together in a thin line and brought his hand to caress her face.
“No, you are the main witness in this case, everyone knows that you were just one of his victims. With all the evidence I've gathered, you're all clear. But you need to tell the police everything you know.”
Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach and took a deep breath.
“Okay, if that’s what I have to do to end this story once and for all.” she nodded and he smiled widely at her. “What about last night…”
He laughed, scratching the back of his head with his free hand.
“Well, you don’t need to say.”
She laughed too.
San approached and kissed her forehead, making her sigh.
“I’m here with you and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I thought it was impossible for me to love you more, but I do.” she shrugged and saw his eyes light up, just like they did last night. “If I stayed sane all these years, it was thanks to you.”
San kissed the tip of her nose.
“I would do anything for you, to keep you safe. I love you, Y/N.”
“What about us?”
"Us?" he pretended to think for a moment and she narrowed her eyes, smiling. “I think we still have a lot to make up for.”
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sturnioz · 19 days
Note
this randomly came to while reading one of your blurbs, imagine shy!reader trying to break things off with fratboy!chris, i can just imagine pulling him for a talk and saying “i can’t do this anymore” and him just saying “no”. you’re sitting there all confused like what “huh?” and chris is just there with a dumb smile on his face shaking his head no while going back to doing whatever he was doing lol
you've been wrestling with your thoughts for what feels like ages now, contemplating how to end your complicated relationship with chris — one that doesn't mirror the love stories you see on tv or read about in books. instead, it feels like a twisted version of what a relationship should be.
even your friend had voiced her own concerns, her words grilling into your brain like a persistent echo. she told you that chris isn't right for you, insisting that you deserve someone who genuinely cares — someone who would proudly call you their girlfriend, and shower you with the love and affection you've been craving.
the thought of that kind of relationship feels both tantalising and painfully out of reach.
as you walk through the open door to the frat house, your heart races in your chest, the thrum of anxiety loud in your ears. you keep your head low, your cheeks hot as you navigate through, avoiding the wandering frat brothers who are in nothing but shorts and sweatpants, their laughter and shouts filling the air, oblivious to your presence.
you spot him in the cluttered living-room, sprawled out on the couch, a lollipop dangling carelessly from his mouth. the coffee table is a chaotic spread of baggies filled with weed, coke and other substances — unfortunately it's always been a usual sight for you.
when chris finally glances up, his expression is one of mild curiosity, his eyebrow arching slightly, "what are you doin' here?"
"what you doin' here?"
"i..." you hesitate, your throat tightening as you search for the right words. you swallow hard, trying to steady your racing heart as you spill, "i can't do this anymore."
"do what?" he asks, his tone casual.
"us — this — whatever this... is."
the lollipop clicks against his teeth as he moves it around his mouth, his dilated pupils locked onto your with an unsettling intensity. he's silent for a moment, then he snorts dismissively. "nah."
you're taken aback by his response, blinking rapidly as confusion washes over you. "huh?"
chris gives you a lazy smile and without breaking eye contact, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out another lollipop — your favourite flavour. your eyes widen in surprise as he offers it to you, and you hesitantly reach out to take it between your fingers, staring at the red treat.
"go uh, go wait in my room f'me, 'kay? got some shady people comin' from a different frat to buy this shit so i don' want you hangin' around down here," he says, his tone nonchalantly, effortlessly shifting the conversation. he gives you a look. "go. now."
you nod slowly, turning on your heel and making your way toward the stairs, your bottom lip jutting out in a frown. as your glance back over your shoulder, you see him counting the products on the table before glancing back down at the treat in your hands.
a small smile pulls at your lips as you unwrap the lollipop, the familiar scent filling your senses. you can't help but feel a flutter of affection, even as a nagging voice in the back of your mind reminds you of the conversation you just attempted to have.
but as you make your way to his room, the sweetness of the lollipop begins to dull your thoughts, pushing aside all the questions and doubts.
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gladiatorcunt · 5 months
Text
🪺 - # WINTERGREEN CANDY CANE !!
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cw: canon typical mind games, baby trapping/pregnancy, manipulation, reader’s emotionally constipated, tashi’s injury, cunnilingus, cockwarming, tit fucking, established tashi & patrick (there’s no feelings between them but they stay together for reader in the beginning), lactation, not rlly smut focused despite the tags, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, ambiguous baby daddy (even though the ending can be read a certain way), one mention of patrick x art, afab reader, there’s a thought about you being injured but it’s not serious, small time skip (?) type thing and implied future pregnancies, purposefully vague/unreliable narrator vibes
patrick and art’s descriptions are heavily insp. by these posts
consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip if you enjoyed!
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They never tell you that Tashi got injured on purpose. She’s too good to fall victim to what plagues so many athletes, but you don’t know that. You, her assumed rival and yet also the poster child of sportsmanship. Rivalry can bring out affection in people, it can highlight the need for someone who can understand you better than anyone else possibly could. You’ve never been anything but soft and sweet, but you can still summon the lightning streaking across the sky in your eyes when the game begins. There’s a glow around you that Tashi craves like a moth craves the shadow behind the light they fly into.
Tashi’s fall from her pedestal was painful and the hardest decision she’s ever made, but for the first time she made it for love. The set up was the easiest part, but now she has to actually make the serve. And she can’t do it alone, she’d be stupid to be blind to how her boyfriend and his best friend’s stares linger. What she and Patrick shared fizzled out a while ago, but if she lets him go, then that signs her up for a battle she’d rather avoid. Sometimes pleasure can be derived from depriving an animal of the chance to kill rather than setting it free and giving it an opportunity to go after you first.
Who knows, maybe someday you and her can share matching injuries.
Luckily, Patrick shares the same sentiment, quickly agreeing to the arrangement and plan when he visited prior to the injury. Art’s good at downplaying his toxicity, so Tashi wasn’t concerned about if he could play the part of a “worried friend”. You’ll bust into the office while she’s getting checked out to see Art there, and the infatuation you've been harboring for him will keep you in place. The queen on the chessboard who can’t really move however they please at all. Patrick will return in a “rush to see his girlfriend”, and you’ll be too intrinscingly intertwined in their web to cut yourself loose.
You weren’t the one she was playing against, but because of your “friendship” you’re there in the audience when it all goes down. The shock of something career ending happening to someone who had the most potential of anyone you’d ever seen is staggering.
You practically run to see if Tashi’s okay, and the disappointment that you might never play with her again is palpable. But she’ll be fine, you tell yourself, she has to be.
Art has already left by the time you get to the room she’s in, doing one of his parts of the plan and allowing Tashi to put everything into motion. He’s waiting nearby, running his hands through his hair as he imagines all the ways he can comfort you. Because you will need comforting later, and your future husband knows the best remedies for your incoming sadness.
You’re standing gobsmacked in front of her bandaged knee, a confirmation that this is really it. You shrug off your bag and let it slide down your arm to the cold floor. Your mouth opens but the words don’t come out. You struggle to know what to say as Tashi’s eyes meet yours.
“What am I supposed to do now, huh? My top competitors gone up and left me hanging.” You sigh, trying to keep the kicked puppy look out of your eyes.
She’s in pain and you’re making this about you. But if you and Tashi aren’t bound by Tennis, then what are you bound by. Your friendship doesn’t go beyond the court, so what do you even share now?
There’s no big declarations, no babbling where you word vomit about glad you are that she’s okay. Neither of you are those kinds of people. The energy in the air is dead, but the situation is too serious for awkward small talk. All you two can focus on is what’s ruined, but only one of you can also acknowledge what stands to be gained.
“Take a break, then.” She says plainly, a touch too proud to beg. “For me, I mean who else am I gonna let see me like this?”
That last is an attempt to lighten the mood, to use humor to point out how you’re truly the only person she’d let see her in tatters. Your eyes widen and you freeze, but then you take a seat next to the cot and take her hand. Your smile could destroy the sun, she thinks, and even if the earth was plunged into darkness you’d make it feel like there was nothing to be worried about at all.
“Okay, just for a little bit.” You chuckle and rub her shoulder delicately.
You don’t know what on earth possesses you to say it, but you realize that the absence of a challenge would drive you insane. There’s other reasons for it, ones you’re aware and ones you’re not. But you and Tashi have a way of saying just enough without ever needing to be raw and reveal what you really mean. If there’s a coherent meaning to be found.
“A little bit” ends up being forever, your pregnancies see to that.
Tashi makes Patrick and Art hinge a match solely on who’d get first crack at it; they play so savagely that you’d think they were stray dogs fighting over moldy scraps of food. She’s there when you get morning sickness and she sends the boys out with a list of what you’re currently craving at that moment. She’ll brush your hair and do your skincare for you, rubbing your belly while everyone’s asleep and telling you’re baby that she’d better be their favorite (after you of course).
Tashi takes pride in how she pleases your pussy when you’re too swollen to put in any of the work. She licks broad stripes up your soaked cunt, nipping at your clit and getting you to cream into her mouth in no time at all. She presses sweet little kisses up and down your folds, wishing you could see her love on your pussy properly. They’ve had competitions on who can make you squirt the fastest, and Tashi will never fail to mention that she’s never lost once.
Patrick gets really into cockwarming, getting you nice and settled in his lap. He has to take deep breaths so he doesn’t immediately start thrusting, he knows he has to think about the baby. But the pregnancy has made you impossibly tight, and your hormones make you go crazy for his sweat and natural musk. You’ll whine at him to hover over your head so you suck on his heavy balls. You nag about how he needs to take better care of himself, but you’ve grown to love swallowing his tangy load while you’re suffocating in his pubes.
When that happens depends on how long either of you can hold out, Patrick will tease you about how slutty you’ve been lately and squeeze your face with one hand. His cock will twitch inside of you, snug and strangled. He'll suck Art off till both of their lips are bleeding and you’ll motorboat Tashi’s tits to pass the time. You’ll start swiveling your hips somewhere along the way and his resolve will crumble like it never existed in the first place.
That’s for later though. He fastens the ugly neon cartoonish headphones over your belly and turns on the attached mic, doing storytime with the softest grin on his face.
Art on other hand likes fucking your leaking tits, he loves when drops of milk lube up the slide of his dick in the valley between them. He’ll thumb at your sensitive nipples and flick them, cooing at you when you moan and lap at his cockhead during the split second it reaches your mouths. He’ll look after your breasts outside of the bedroom. He’ll massage them and drain them for you if they’re feeling particularly sore, two of them will be latching on either tit while the third will be sucking on your tongue. His pecs bounce with every languid roll of his hips through the pocket his hands create, and he brings your hands up to them so you’ll grab on and leave scratches.
Art gives you more cum, his literal breeder balls are too big and full, and he’ll bet that he’ll give you more children. His thrusts have a certain punchy rhyme and rhythm to them while Patrick’s are sloppily enthusiastic and feral.
Art picks out supplies for the nursery with you, supporting your vision wholeheartedly and agreeing with every color and stuffed animal you choose. He and Patrick continue with their careers, and Tashi finds a way to coach them both, they need to support you and the new member of their slightly dysfunctional family. Tashi writes up the speech you give when you announce your early and extremely unexpected retirement, and she massages your feet when you collapse on the couch from the sheer emotional exhaustion. Art pecks each of your toes as she does so. Patrick plays tic tac toe against himself in the hollow of your throat.
And when the baby’s born and they can finally see who actually got you knocked up, Tashi says that maybe Patrick will get to be happy that he’s finally won something.
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- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or give my works to ai
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i-cant-sing · 1 year
Text
Yandere Royal Gay AU pt 8
Part 7 is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more.
You didn't want to open your eyes.
You had woken up a while ago and realised you were back home when you heard your father's voice. He was singing to you, more humming than actually saying the words but... you recognised the lullaby. It was something he used to hum to you when you were sick or couldn't sleep as a child.
It was incredibly personal, one of the few memories that you cherished with him.
So why did he have to do it in front of Keigo?
It took every fibre in your being to not get up and strangle him while pulling his eyeballs out.
"You have a soothing voice." Keigo whispered from your side, brushing your hair with his hand, while you clawed the sheets from under the covers.
Dabi smiled, feeling perfectly content now that he had his most precious treasures in front of him, safe and sound. "How are you feeling now? Do your wings still hurt?"
"Not as much. Emperor Kai's healers did their magic. I'll be flying again in no time." Keigo sighed as he looked at you. "Its her I'm more worried about, Dabi."
"Why? Kai already healed any minor injuries she had-"
"Physically, yes, she's healed. But what about mentally?"
"What about it?" Dabi pushed, eyes narrowing. Keigo sat up straighter. "Dabi, regardless of what AFO did or that you saved her-" "we saved her, Keigo." "- right. Regardless, she... she will be affected by all of it. That was her mother's homeland, her people, and AFO was her grandfather. You and I both know Y/n isnt one to just- just hate anyone or hold grudges. She'll be crushed by AFO's death, or all those villagers deaths. I mean, you did see how she reacted to Tomura's death-"
"That's enough." Dabi snapped, voice barely containing the rage he felt. "You will never speak of those names again, Keigo. What happened to them, what I did to them- it was a kindness! A mercy compared to the punishment that they deserved and would've gotten if it weren't for Y/n being there."
"But Y/n-"
"We will take care of Y/n. You and me, together will help her forget about those traitorous bastards and everything will return to normal." Dabi closed his eyes, pausing before opening them again. "We are all that she needs, Keigo. Now more than ever."
The blonde smiled softly before moving off the bed and over to Dabi, the latter gently pulling the blonde into his lap, hands cautiously settling on the base of his wings.
"I never doubt you, Dabi." Keigo whispered as he kissed him. "I trust you with my life, and Y/n's." Dabi smiled against his lips. He adored how protective Keigo was over you, and he's the only one who is allowed to be possessive over you.
"I know, love." Dabi murmured, tightening his grip on the blonde's hips when he tried to move. "Where are you going?"
"Gonna make something for Y/n to eat."
"The kitchen staff-"
"-will mess it up,I just know it. Just let me handle this Dabi. I'll be back soon, hm?"
Dabi sighed. "Dont take too long." He watched him leave before turning back towards you, taking your hand in his as he resumed humming the lullaby.
He traced his thumb over your wrists, staring at it absentmindedly as his mind went back to the events of the battlefield, heart swelling up with joy at his victory over AFO and his entire kingdom. His lips quirked up slightly as he recalled the screams of the people burning.
They deserved it.
They deserved it and so much more for what they did to you, for taking away his one and only child and torturing you in god knows what horrendous way they came up with.
Isn't that why you looked so miserable and devastated at the battlefield?
Dabi's eyes flicked to your face, widening when they met your own.
You were awake.
"Y/n!" Dabi squeezed your hand before getting up to sit on your bed. Taking your face in his hands as he looked at you with concern. "I- are you okay? How are you feeling now?"
Hollow eyes stared at him, your mouth remained sealed shut as you looked at him. But just before it creeped Dabi, you blinked and then tears started to fall down your face.
Dabi immediately (but gently) pulled you to his chest, practically sitting you in his lap like a child, arms wrapping themselves around you like a warm cocoon to calm you down as he continued to look down at you with even more worry when great sobs racked your body.
"Y/n? Oh baby- its okay, its okay! You're fine." He pulled your face away from his chest, cradling your face in his hands as his thumbs wiped away the tears from your cheeks. "No one is mad at you. I am not mad at you, more concerned is all. When you went missing, I- I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead and it hurt, Y/n. It hurt me that you died hating your father, and I never want that. I just-" Dabi closes his eyes and sighs before opening them. "I dont blame you for your actions. You ran away because of me, and while that may not have been the wisest decision, I understand and... I forgive you. You were misled by people you trusted, and they paid for their actions. Now, I want us to start anew again. Put everything behind us and become a happy family again. You, me and Keigo, together against the world, hm? How does that sound?" You all but wailed louder at the mention of that whore's name, but Dabi just percieved it as you being overwhelmed and pulled you tighter against his chest.
With one hand rubbing circles in your back while the other was carded in your hair, Dabi kissed your temple, smiling softly as you cried hard into him.
"Its okay. Let it all out, Y/n. I've got you, baby. I've got you."
And I'm never letting go. Ever.
-
Dabi left once you'd calmed down, saying that he was going to inform Keigo that you were finally awake. You of course, would rather gouge out your eyes than meet that murderer, but that idea was thrown out the window when your nanny knocked on your door, Inko looking visibly surprised to see you awake.
She all but rushed over to hug you, tears falling from her eyes as she pulled away from you suddenly, bowing her head as she apologised for touching you. You smiled sadly before opening up your arms, and Inko hugged you again. She was allowed to drop royal protocol, the woman had practically raised you.
A few minutes later and you heard Keigo and Dabi walking in the hallway. You pulled away from Inko and told her to tell them that you were taking a bath.
"Please! Just tell them you drew me a bath, I- I-" Inko didn't need to be told twice as she ushered you towards the bathroom and quickly shut the door behind her, right in time for Dabi and Keigo to barge in.
"Where is she?! Where's Y/n?" Keigo asked, whipping his around for you, as if you'd be hiding somewhere. Inko bowed, greeting the two men, raising her head only to see Keigo looking at her impatiently and Dabi raising a brow at her.
"Well?"
"The princess is taking a bath, your Majesty. I had recommended it to help heal her wounds better-" She began lying, but Dabi cut her off.
"Let me know when she's ready. Dress her in soft clothes, I want her to be comfortable. You will take care of it, hm?" Dabi ordered, and Inko bowed her head in obedience.
"Of course, your Majesty."
"Come on, Keigo. She'll be back soon. Why don't you continue making her lunch? We'll all eat here." Dabi suggested, his hand on Keigo's back guiding him out of the room.
You sighed as you heard them leave, closing your eyes as it dawned that you had escaped facing Keigo but only momentarily.
Inko entered the bath, smiling apologetically as she knew that you didn't like Keigo.
"I'll draw you a bath, princess. Why don't you wait on the bed, hm?" You nodded, going to sit on your bed just as someone else knocked on the door.
You nodded at Inko and she opened the door to see who it was before harshly whispering at someone to leave.
"Who is it?" You asked, standing up. Inko looked back at you apologetically before pushing the door open and revealing-
"Izuku." You whispered. Your childhood best friend was wearing his Knight armour as he beamed brightly at you.
"Princess." He greeted. "May I come in?" He asked only to be whacked on his head by his mom. "Izuku! She's busy and besides, the Princess needs to rest-"
"Its alright, Inko. He can come in." You nodded, as the woman let out a sigh of relief before going back to drawing you the bath.
Izuku walked towards you and you motioned for him to sit down next to you on the bed. "Its been a while." He started. You hummed. "It has. And I'm sorry."
Izuku gave you a quizzical look. "What for?"
"For how I treated you before I left." You looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers. "For snapping at you. That was uncalled for-"
Izuku grabbed your hands, his large rough ones engulfing yours. "You don't have to explain anything to me, Y/n." You shook your head. "I want to." You whispered, as your voice turned wobbly. "I don't want to lose- I cant- T-Tomura-" Izuku pulled you into a hug before your tears could fall. He patted your back and hushed you. "Shh, you won't lose me. I promise, I won't go anywhere."
-
You sat on your bed uncomfortably with Keigo and Dabi in the room. The maids had brought up a small table and chairs with food to your room, since Dabi thought it'd be best to dine here while you rest. You however, can't rest as long as that murderer is in the room.
Sure, Dabi killed your grandfather and killed many of the villagers, but you could see where he was coming from. Your father's reaction was somewhat reasonable since his daughter, his only heir, was kidnapped and he didn't know whether you were being tortured or dead. And you can see it however you want, but deep down you blame Keigo for AFO's death.
You blame him for the villagers deaths.
You blame him for your mother's death.
You blame him for Tomura's death.
"How's your soup?" Dabi asked.
"Its good." You said without looking up from your plate, just like the past 20 minutes. You can't bare to bring yourself to look up at him, unsure if your heart will break more at the sight of him whoring to your dad or if you'll end up raging and kill him on the spot.
"Of course it is. Keigo made it himself for you." Dabi locked eyes with the blonde, who blushed. "Dont you wanna say thank you?"
Here we go again.
There was a audible shift in the energy of the room. The tension could be cut with a knife, as Dabi once again forced you to interact with Keigo.
Keigo leaned towards the king. "Dabi, I don't think that's necessary-"
"Thank you." You said, finally looking up and directly at Keigo, a small courteous smile on your lips. "It tastes delicious. Thank you for going out of your way for me."
Keigo's mouth parted in shock, this was- this was the first time you looked at him with genuine respect- talked to him nicely. Even Dabi was surprised at your change in behaviour, he didn't expect you to actually be grateful, maybe spat out a forced thanks with a grimace but not this, not you actually finishing the bowl of soup.
"I- oh, it's no trouble. I'm glad you liked it." Keigo managed to say, looking at Dabi with confusion, but the king only grinned.
He was glad you were coming around, beyond happy that you were going to turn over a new leaf with him.
It's about time.
Just then, a guard came in, apologising for interrupting but requesting the king's attention for an urgent matter.
Dabi left, promising to return soon with letters from Enji and grandma Rei, and his siblings.
Keigo cleared his throat as the two of you were left alone. "Oh, you finished your soup! I'll give you some more- oh, where are you going?" He asked, watching you peel the covers away and get off the bed. "To the bathroom? Let me help you-" He moved to grab your hand but you snatched it away, before continuing to move to the bathroom.
You didn't close the door behind you, perhaps you wanted him to follow you if you fell or something. But when you got on your knees in front of the toilet bowl and locked eyes with him, Keigo knew he wasn't going to like what he was about to see.
In the next second, you had shoved fingers down your throat and gagged until you induced vomiting, emptying your stomach out.
Keigo rushed towards you, eyes wide in horror as he asked why did you do that. But you didn't answer him. Instead, you called out to Inko (who intentionally pushed Keigo away from you when she saw you on the floor, looking faint and out of breath).
"Princess! Are you alright? Should I get the physician?" You shook your head.
"No, just- just had some disgusting soup that made me sick. Could you- could you do me favour and get rid of it? I swear, just the smell of it in my room is making me lurch again." You commented while looking at Keigo.
Inko only nodded as she helped you back in bed before taking out all the food in your room, but not before asking Keigo to leave.
"My apologies, sir, but I think it'd be best to let the princess rest for now." She said, not sounding sorry at all, practically blocking his view of you as she stood in front of him, eyes staring into him boldly.
Had Keigo not been shocked by your actions, he would've had smacked her across the face for such blatant disrespect.
But Keigo left silently. He needed to process what just happened.
-
Two more weeks passed by, and you had received many letters from your loved ones and friends. Your father was still far too paranoid or perhaps it was his possessiveness that didn't allow you to have any visitors. The option of you stepping out of the castle was out of the question, even you knew that. But he could've let your grandparents see you, or even your friends who were actually there with him on the battlefield.
At least uncle Shotou was here. He sat by your side on a chair, while you were in your bed, back propped up against the headboard.
"They're all worried about me." You mumbled as you opened another letter. "I feel bad making them worry over me. Don't you think I should meet them to let them know I'm well?"
Shotou nodded. "I agree with you but your father still hasn't budged from his decision. He says that it's just not safe yet for you to meet people, and that you should still rest until you're better."
"But I am better! Any minor injuries that I sustained have healed ages ago." You whined. "Its just- its frustrating being alone in this castle!"
He tilted his head slightly. "You're not alone, Y/n. You have me, your father, the servants, the knights-"
"You know what I mean." You sighed. "Its okay if he doesn't want me too meet anyone else, but can't I at least visit... mum? I can go with him, or you, or even the guards- I just- I just need to see her! It's been too long."
Shotou heaved a sigh. "I had brought it up to Dabi, but... he said no."
You remained quiet for a few moments, looking down at your lap as your brows furrowed.
"He's mad at me." You mumbled.
Shotou's head shot up. "Y/n?"
You nodded, sniffling a little. "He's mad at me. That's why he won't let me meet anyone. That's why he won't let go see mom. He- he thinks it's my fault that I was with AFO." You bit your lip. "And it is. I did run away from him. But only because I was mad at him. I thought that some time away from each other would heal our problems. But... nothing changed. If anything, we're more far apart than we were before. He- he's punishing me. And people are getting hurt because of that- because of me-"
Shotou cut you off by holding your face and turning you to him. "Y/n, this isn't your fault. None of it is. And your dad, he's not mad at you. He's not punishing you. He's just- its just taking him some time to cope with all of this. You have to see where he's coming from, hm? He lost you- he thought you were dead. And now that he got you back, he's just- he doesn't want anything to hurt you, anyone to take you away from him again." He said, which made you cry even more and Shotou pulled your head to his chest, patting your back as your tears wet his garments.
After Shotou left your room, he went upto Dabi's office, hoping to convince him to let you meet Rei and Enji at least. But before he could knock, he overheard Keigo's moans and he immeadiately turned on his heel and left, hands clenching into fists at the thought of that disgusting whore.
He reached his room and sat on his desk, thinking of what to do to help you. Even if Keigo wanst there, Shotou doubts Dabi would've listened to him. So... if he wasn't going to do something, then maybe Shotou could help you?
You are the princess after all, the next heir to the throne. It is his duty to help you in whatever way possible.
Pulling out a sheet of paper, Shotou grabbed his quill and began writing away.
-
Keigo and Dabi laid in each others arms, Keigo's hand resting on Dabi's bare chest while the latter played with the blonde's hair.
"What's on your mind?" Dabi asked.
Keigo raised his brows and shook his head. "Nothing much."
"You should know better than to lie to your king by now, hm?" Dabi commented before asking again. "Come on, tell me."
Truthfully, Keigo was concerned over his last interaction with you. Why were you so hostile towards him? But earlier, in front of Dabi, you were so nice to him.
Keigo sighed, nuzzling closer to Dabi. "I'm just concerned about Y/n."
Dabi softly smiled. He liked it when Keigo worried over you.
"She'll be fine, Kei. She just needs to adjust to everything. Time heals all wounds." Keigo didn't reply and Dabi could see that he was still thinking about you. When you were gone, Dabi felt like this was the end of the world. He could only imagine the heartbreak Keigo was going through. They both loved you, and now that they had you back, their anxiety didn't go away completely. They still couldn't believe it, that you were still alive and well with them. In fact, the first night after they brought you home, Dabi didn't sleep a wink. No, he kept on checking in on you. Keigo, despite his injuries and heavy medication, was in a similar state.
"Why don't you go and check in on her? It'll put your mind to ease." Dabi offered, sitting up to pour himself some wine. Keigo nodded happily as he pulled away, kissing Dabi's cheek before wrapping a robe around him and scurrying out of the room, the king chuckling at the sight.
Even when you were a kid, Keigo often found himself watching over your sleeping form, something about it made him feel at peace. To see you safe and sound, in arms reach to protect you from any harm that should befall you... perhaps that's exactly what Keigo needed at the moment.
He made his way to your room, the guards at your door knew not to stop him- it was Dabi's orders. Keigo softly knocked on your door, waiting to see if you're still awake. After a few moments of silence, he slowly opened the door and crept inside.
There you were, lying on your side, tucked under the floral covers that reached upto your nose. Your hair sprawled out over the pillow, a few wisps framing your face under the glow of the lantern in the room. Your lips were slightly parted and Keigo smiled at how you looked the same as you did when you were a baby.
He walked closer and brushed the hair out of your face, and leaned down to kiss your forehead as his hands pulled the covers closer to you. He turned to leave but halted when he heard a whimper.
He looked at your face, which was now scrunched up as if in pain. Before he could do anything, you started mumbling frantically, your head moving side to side, your voice turning loud as your words became audible.
"No! No! Stop, Im sorry- STOP! STOP! STOP! KEIGO STOP-!" Keigo rushed to wake you up from your nightmare, only for your eyes to snap open as you began thrashing in his arms, pushing away from him as you began screaming for help, tears streaming down your face as you backed away so far that you fell off the bed, still shrieking for him to get away, just in time for the Dabi to burst in your room with your guards.
"DAD!" You yelled, your body shaking as he made his way towards you. "HE'S GOING TO KILL ME! HE'S GOING TO KILL ME!" You cried out, pointing at Keigo.
"Y/n, honey, calm down. He's not going to hurt-" Dabi tried to console you, taking your shoulders in his hands but you were inconsolable. He looked at Keigo, and the blonde saw the slightest flicker of doubt- no, accusation; an incriminating look in those cerulean eyes.
"I didn't do anything, Dabi. She was having a nightmare and-" he tried to explain himself, something he didn't think he'd need to do with Dabi.
"HE'LL KILL ME! HE'LL KILL ME! HE'LL KILL ME LIKE HE HE KILLED TOMURA!" You continued rambling on, tears streaking your cheeks, not taking your eyes off Keigo for a moment, as if afraid that he'd strike you at a chance.
Dabi looked at your face, concern arising at the raw fear in your eyes. Its only when a trail of crimson left your nose and your chest began heaving heavily did Dabi finally say the words.
"Keigo, leave."
The blonde took a step closer towards you. "No Dabi, I can help-"
Dabi snapped his head back at him and with unbridled rage in his face, he yelled at him.
"I'M ORDERING YOU TO LEAVE! NOW!"
Keigo's heart shattered at the venomous tone, and his face showed it. But right now, Dabi was more concerned about his daughter not having a panic attack or passing out. He could worry about Keigo later, you were the priority now.
You're the priority.
As Keigo left, Dabi picked you up and placed you back in your bed, promising to spend the night by your side. With the way your eyes remained wide open, he was worried you wouldn't sleep. But sleep finally overcame you as you were held by Dabi, your head lying on his warm chest, barely hiding the coy smile as he told the guard to inform Keigo that he won't be returning to bed tonight.
-
The next morning, when you woke up, you were still curled up in Dabi's lap. True to his word, he stayed with you the entire time, and it didn't seem like he slept much.
"How are you feeling now?" He asked, eyes slightly tired from the lack of sleep.
"I'm better, thank you." You whispered, getting off his lap. You looked up at him, brows knitting together as you tried to think of what to say next, or about last night. "I- last night... I-"
He waved you off. "We'll talk after breakfast. I think you're well enough to join us in the dining hall, hm?" You nodded as he got up and walked closer to you, cupping your cheek with one hand as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.
"My precious." He smiled before leaving your room, right in time for Inko to come in to help you get ready for breakfast.
Dabi returned to his room where he wasn't surprised to see Keigo pacing around, worriedly. From the dark circles and red eyes, Dabi figured the blonde hadn't slept.
"Dabi, I am so sorry-" He started but was cut off by Dabi wrapping his arms around him.
"Its okay. Not your fault." He sighed, pulling away to kiss Keigo on the lips. But the blonde wanted to still clarify himself.
"I didn't do anything, Dabi- she just- she had a nightmare and I was just trying to he'll her-"
"I know, Keigo. I know." Dabi stared into his scared eyes and his gaze softened. "But you need to understand that when I tell you to do something, you do it without question. Without a second thought. Y/n is- she's still a child, as much as she pretends to be a grown up, deep down all of these events have scarred her in way or another. We have to give her time and we have to help her, hm?"
Keigo only nodded before resting his head on Dabi's chest, wanting to be comforted as well.
"Let's eat, hm?"
-
The three of you sat on the dining table, eating in awkward silence. You and Keigo didn't meet each other's eyes, Dabi kept looking between you two, hoping one of you would finally start talking.
He cleared his throat.
"I'm sorry-!" You and Keigo said together. You spoke again before he could (as you should, according to royal protocol. But everyone knows the King's favourite isn't one to follow rules.)
"I am sorry, for how I behaved last night, Keigo. I- I was having a nightmare and-" you sighed. "-Its not your fault. I reacted very poorly and I shouldn't have pushed you away or been afraid of you, I just- I just-" Dabi grabbed your hand and squeezed it affirmatively when he saw remorse in your eyes.
"Its okay, really. I didn't mind it, and I know it wasn't your fault either. But I have to ask... was the nightmare about me?" Keigo asked cautiously.
You looked up at him before looking away, eyes slowly welling up with tears. That was enough of an answer for him and Keigo could feel his heart drop at the thought of you being afraid of him.
"I am- I think I just need- I need some time to get used to you again..." you say.
Dabi hummed, giving a quick glance to Keigo who nodded begrudgingly as well.
"Well, now that this topic is over, I was thinking of sharing some good news." Dabi said, making the two look at him. "Since you seem to be in good health, I was thinking you could visit your mother. What do you think?"
"Really?" You whispered in disbelief.
Dabi nodded. "Of course, I'd be accompanying. Don't want you fainting or-" you cut him off by a big hug and loads of "thank you's".
He let you be excused so that you could get ready while Keigo watched him with a slightly hurt expression in his eyes.
"So... I shouldn't come with you two?" He asked in a low tone.
Dabi met his eyes and held his gaze before softening them. "I think some space between you both would benefit for her. After last night, I don't think she's strong mentally, Keigo. Her mother is a sensitive topic as it is... I can't risk her having another episode like last night."
Keigo stared at his plate before nodding, not meeting his eyes. "I understand. E-excuse me." He left the room.
Dabi knew being apart from you was the last thing Keigo ever wanted but... he could make him understand later. For now, Dabi needs to focus on you.
-
"Thank you." You said to your father who was behind you, holding the reins of his horse you rode on together. He insisted on sharing one ride, and you felt closer to him while he felt content now that you were in his arms, safe and secure.
"What for?" Dabi asked.
"Everything." You looked down at your hands and then ahead at the road. "For going with me to see mom. And for taking care of her grave. For last night, when you held me."
Dabi smiled and kissed the top of your head.
Soon you two had reached the castle and were getting off the horse when Shotou came out beaming.
"Someone is waiting for you-"
"Y/N!" Rei yelled as she dropped royal protocol and practically ran down the stairs of the entry door to hug you. "My child!" She began crying into your shoulder as her arms squeezed your form so hard that it almost began to hurt.
"Honey, you're going to break her." A familiar voice said, making you pull back from Rei.
"Grandpa!" You squealed as the older man caught you when you jumped, spinning you around as you buried your face into his neck, arms barely reaching around his broad shoulders.
"My doll, my little princess." He cooed as he kissed your forehead, his own eyes getting a little misty.
"Enji, stop hogging her." Rei smacked his arm.
He frowned. "Honey, I'm not hogging her-"
"Yes, you are!" Someone yelled as they yanked you out of his arms and into their own. "I've missed you so much, my baby!" She cried as she rubbed her cheek against yours.
"Hello, Aunt Fuyumi." You chuckled as you patted her arms to let go but she held you tighter. Fortunately, Dabi came to your rescue.
"You're hurting her, Fuyumi." He said as he pulled you away and behind him. Fuyumi gave him a quick bow and "Your Majesty." Before punching his shoulder. "I was worried about you! Would it have killed you to write back to me?!"
"I've been... busy." He replied. "Besides, I needed some alone time with my daughter before you came to hog her."
"I can't help it that she's my favorite neice!" Fuyumi defended.
"I'm your only neice..." you mumbled from behind Dabi. "Also, Where's uncle Natsuo-"
A loud crash was heard, making Dabi immeadiately turn and push you behind him. Of course, speak of the devil and the devil shall-
"I'm here!" Natsuo huffs as he gets off the horse he just crashed into some poor guards (their unconscious bodies are being dragged away).
He walks up the steps and quickly bows to his parents and Dabi before locking eyes with you and manically grinning as he lifts you up in his arms and spins around, making you chortle as you slap his arms to slow down.
"Oh youre a sight for sore eyes, you little brat!" He came to halt and you had to grab his arms to stabilise yourself. He pinched your nose, making you whine. "I'm never letting you go alone now! Gonna take you to battles with me, if I have to. Missed you too much."
You smiled sweetly at him. "I missed you too, uncle."
The Todoroki clan had decided to stay a week or two over at Dabi's castle, much to his dismay. Of course he doesn't like the fact that Enji and the rest of his family will be breathing down your neck, but Shotou convinced him to let them spend time with you here rather than whisking you away to Enji's kingdom where it'll be harder for Dabi to keep an eye on you (and not to mention the trauma he still hasn't recovered from since that was the place he lost you last time).
While you were being coddled and spending some quality time with the Todoroki clan, Keigo was finding ways to stay out of their way. He had initially greeted them when they arrived, but from their cold attitude and death stares, he'd much rather be ignored by them. And it's not like he or Dabi doesn't know how the royal family dislikes Keigo, so Dabi would often leave you with his family while he went to console his lover.
By the end of the week, as much Dabi wouldn't like to admit, you had looked much better and healthier since his family came. You looked happier, brighter. They were all having dinner together in the big dinning hall. Dabi sat at the head of the table, Rei to his right, then you and then Enji because of course your grandparents want you squished between them. Fuyumi, Natsuo and Shotou sat to Dabi's left.
"Baby you need to eat more! I could see your ribs from here." Rei said as she put another serving of food on your plate.
"But I'm full-"
"No, you're not. Now eat those veggies, I don't need your pretty hair falling out." Rei cooed as you begrudgingly followed her orders. She then narrows her eyes at Dabi. "You too Dabi, eat your veggies. Only drinking wine isn't healthy!"
Dabi hummed nonchalantly. "Yes, mom." He said, eyes trained towards the door. He sighed before beckoning a servant, whispering something to him. The servant nodded obediently and left.
"Aww, are you really going to eat veggies? What a good mama's boy you are." Natsuo teased, only to be whacked on the head by Fuyumi.
"Yeah, I'm having them bring more food." Dabi smiled.
A few minutes later, the hall doors opened and in walked-
Concubine Keigo.
The man who had been good at hiding himself for the better part of the week, was now walking towards Dabi. He bowed to him first, before bowing to the rest of the family. Even though his siblings masked their displeasure at seeing Keigo, his parents, especially Rei, made no such efforts.
She threw a nasty look when Dabi had someone bring a chair and seat Keigo next to him.
"You're going to eat with us?" Rei asked, not holding back the disgust in her tone.
"Mother." Dabi warned.
"What?" Rei shrugged, slicing her steak elegantly. "I'm just curious. I thought this was a family dinner."
Dabi's eyes darkened. "He is family." He looked at Keigo before bringing his hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "And if he wasn't before, he will be now."
The table had went dead silent as they all looked at Dabi, anticipating the bomb he was about to drop on them. Somehow, you already knew you were going to dread the news he was about to share.
"We're getting married."
And just like that, the curtain of happiness drops, your world shatters.
"I was going to wait a few more weeks before announcing, but since Y/n had been feeling better and you all came, I decided now would be the best time. I had proposed to Keigo long before Y/n was kidnapped-" you stopped hearing after that, you couldn't even if you tried. Your heart was beating too fast, too loudly for you to hear anything.
Is your father really going to marry Keigo? The man who killed your mother? The man who killed Tomura? Did Dabi even care about you anymore-
"Y/n?" Dabi called. Under the table, Enji held your hand and gave it a squeeze, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You looked at Dabi and Keigo, who were holding hands.
"Congratulations." You smiled. "When's the date?"
Everyone was surprised at your composure, Keigo who was holding his breath finally sighed in relief while Dabi looked proudly at you.
You've really matured.
"Well, we were thinking later this week, since everyone is still here. What do you say, Y/n?" Dabi asks, sipping his wine.
You hummed. "Very wise. Let me know if I could be of any help." The dinner soon ended, and you could feel everyone's eyes on you (except for Dabi and Keigo, they were looking at each other like they wanted to rip their clothes off).
Instead of joining the family in the garden for a walk, you excused yourself and left for your room. And only after you had closed your door did you finally let the tears fall.
How could he do this to you? How could your father marry that murderous skank? Was it to show you up? To teach you a lesson? It couldn't possibly be- because he loves Keigo, could it?
"No." You whispered harshly, as you sat on your bed. If this marriage happens, it'll put Keigo in a much powerful position, and it'll br far harder for you to take him down.
And not to mention, by law, you would have to bow down to him.
Concubines never get to be more superior than legitimate heirs, but since Keigo was already a favourite, and your lack of a quirk makes everyone question your legitimacy as a heir and a ruler, you have no doubt that Dabi will make you kneel to his slut.
Someone knocked on your door. "Come in." You said, fixing yourself.
It was Rei and Enji, concerned looks etched on their faces. Looking at them, you couldn't help the tears that welled up.in your eyes again.
"Oh honey~" Rei cooed with open arms as she hugged you, letting you sniffle into her gown.
"I- I'm sorry-" you tried to say, as you pulled away only for Rei to pull you closer to her. She sat on your bed and positioned herself in a way so that you could lay your head in her lap.
"You don't have to be brave anymore, Y/n." Rei said as she ran her finger through your hair. Your tears slipped down your face as you watched Enji sit on the foot end of your bed, taking your feet in his lap and rubbing your ankles.
"None of this is your fault, Y/n." Rei said. "I still want to go and yell at Dabi for even letting that whore sit with us, let alone marrying him-"
"Rei." Enji warned.
She huffed. "Your grandpa says that wouldn't be wise." She kissed your cheek. "How about you come with us? Hm? I can talk with Dabi and convince him to let you come with us until the wedding is over-"
"No!" You shook your head frantically. The last time you went away, your father proposed to Keigo. Who knows what that blonde will do this time when you leave. Take away all of your mother's belongings? Kick you out? Make Dabi question your legitimacy?
"I- I already told them I'd be here to help them. Besides, I shouldn't be away from my father on this joyous occasion. Really, I'm happy for him- for them." You wiped your tears away as Enji and Rei looked at you with pity. "I just- I just miss mom a little."
They stayed with you the rest of the night.
-
After the announcement to the family, Dabi had announced of his wedding to his kingdom. The news had gotten mixed reactions, they cheered and congratulated Dabi out of fear, while also throwing pitiful looks your way, hushed whispers about "poor princess Y/n". Good thing was that you spent most of your time in your room, so you didn't have to bear the embarrassment much.
You were standing in Dabi's office. He'd called you, and Keigo was there too. You didn't think it would be possible for them to be more closer and show more disgusting displays of affection, but here they are, shamelessly eating each others faces.
"Y/n! How have you been?" Dabi asked as Keigo got off his lap, giving a quick squeeze to his bum (you wanted to burn your eyes with acid).
"I'm well, thank you." You smiled, trying to contain the contents of your gut. "You asked for me?" Might as well come to the topic before they start doing more...stuff.
"Ah yes. Well, since the wedding is approaching, I wanted to ask if you'd like to be the maid of honour?" He said, shuffling through some papers- invites.
"You want me to be your maid of honor-?"
"Mine? No. I have Natsuo. I was asking if you'd like to be Keigo's, since he has no one to walk him down the aisle, Keigo suggested you. And you two are close, so it seems like a good idea, no?" He said in a tone that made it seem more like an order than a question.
How could he ask you that? Has your father lost his mind? Is he that horny to not give a shit about his own daughter?
You looked at Keigo, who was standing there with a chalice, his golden eyes piercing through you, a satisfied smile on his lips.
Of course, he'd convinced Dabi to suggest something as preposterous as this. Perhaps as a revenge for earlier.
"I think it'd be better if someone else stepped in. Perhaps one of the other concubines?" You offered. You'd much rather eat a bag of nails than let his filthy hands hold yours as you walk down the aisle.
"No, no. Keigo isn't close to any of the concubines. Besides, I think it'd show the rest of the world of our united front. Put all the rumours about conflict among you and Keigo to rest." Dabi said, deciding for you.
"Yes, your Majesty." You said, bowing as you left the room.
-
The next day was rehearsal day. The servants were working hard to decorate evey inch of the castle, making sure to prepare for guests from far and away, perhaps because Keigo told them that this was going to be "the biggest wedding of history."
You were standing in the church with Keigo holding your gloved hand. Just because Dabi said you have to walk him down the aisle, doesn't mean you need to touch him. The gloves were only the smallest barrier.
"Thank you for doing this for me." Keigo said as you both walked down the aisle towards Dabi. Every fiber of your being was screaming to rip yourself away from him.
"Anything for my father." Your lips formed into a tight lipped smile.
Ignoring your comment, Keigo asked you something even more cursed. "Have you thought of how you'd address me now that I'm marrying your father?"
Bitch. Skank. Whore. Pig. Murderer. Ostrich. Ass hat. Pile of shit. Slut-
"I have more important affairs to be concerned about." You said, dismissing the topic, but of course Keigo wouldn't let it go.
"Well, I have and I'd prefer if you'd call me dad or papa. Mama is also fine, but spare me the royal titles. I don't care for them and I don't want you to be formal with me. We're family now." Keigo said as you both reached Dabi who took Keigo's hand from yours, both leaning down to kiss your cheeks.
You wonder if his touch would still linger if you placed a hot iron poker.
You were walking towards your room, when you passed by your mother's. Opening the door, you saw Inko was there as well, going through your mother's closet.
"Princess!" She turned around, bowing to you with a gentle smile. "Look what I've found!" She showed you some dresses, your mother's beloved gowns, her tiaras, her jewellery.
"I was thinking that you could wear them on the wedding!" Inko said, as she pulled out a beautiful baby blue gown with jewels and sakura blossoms embroidered on it. "They should be of your size, bit I'm happy to make a few alterations to it if you'd like!"
You smiled as you tried on the gown, it fit you perfectly. "And if you pair it with this tiara and your mother's favourite ring!" She placed the white princess tiara on your head, along with the turquoise ring that had diamonds around it, with a gold band. "Your father gave it to your mother on their wedding night. Your mother adored this ring so much, she often said the turquoise stone reminded her of your father whenever he went away om wars." Of course it did remind her of Dabi, his eyes had the same colour as the stone.
"I'll wear this." You said as you admired yourself in the mirror, happy at how you resembled your mother. "Will you have them polished for me?" Inko nodded as she took the ring and tiara from you.
At least there's something you could look forward to at this awful wedding.
-
Guests had started arriving two days before the wedding. Few had been invited to stay at this castle, while others had rooms arranged for them at the other castles nearby.
You had insisted on at least letting your friends stay at the castle, but Dabi turned you down, saying something about security concerns. But he allowed them to visit you during the day.
"Katsuki!" You giggled as you hugged the barbarian king, who only lifted you up and twirled you around.
"Stop acting like a buffoon. Set her down, she's a princess, not a cat." Momo chided as she fanned herself. Katsuki only huffed as he set you down.
"Empress Yaoryuzu-" you started bowing but she hit the top of your head with her fan lightly.
"Forgetting how you're supposed to address me?" She asked, raising her brow at you. You sighed before giving a peck on her lips.
"Hey! What the heck that?!" Katsuki asked as he pulled you behind him. You placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. "Katsuki, it's just a traditional greeting in her land."
"Yes, but I don't expect uncultured barbarians to understand what traditions mean." Momo snickered.
"Alright, that's it-"
"Enough!" You yelled at them. "I have bigger matters to handle than to stop you two from fighting like children. So if you insist on bickering, please do it outside of this palace and on your own time. Do I make myself clear?" You glared at them as they finally nodded.
The "matters" that you need to handle are about you making sure that when Keigo marries Dabi, he doesnt get to sign a contract that states all about Keigo's new powers and "governing" opportunities. You need to make sure that Keigo doesn't get more power than needed, that he doesn't get a superior title to you, the legitimate heir, and that he doesn't get to add a clause or two that would benefit him and harm you.
A familiar servant passed by you, gave you a nod. Of course, you had initially thought of finding ways to stop the wedding altogether, so you had a servant bribe some concubines and knights to flirt with Keigo, if only to arouse rumours and better yet, catch him in a compromising position.
But you knew that with the wedding approaching, Keigo would be more cautious than ever, and it's not like Dabi would take off the veil of love off his eyes to even suspect that Keigo is cheating on him.
You sat in the garden after returning from the office, asking your uncle Shotou if the contract for marriage had been drawn up. He told you no, that its still in the works and should be coming in tomorrow evening, and when he asked why you wanted to know, you'd made some excuse about wanting to see whether your father was going to have new stamps made with Keigo's face in it.
He only chuckled, but both of you knew Dabi wouldn't be above doing such an abomination.
"What're you doing here alone, bub?" Dabi asked as he sat down next to you. "Everyone's inside, waiting for you."
You smiled softly. "Just... needed some air. Nothing to worry about."
Dabi hummed as he gazed ahead at the tree line. "I know everything is happening so fast and is hectic, so I haven't had the time to talk to you but-" He looked at you and smiled with soft eyes. "- I want to tell you how proud I am of you. For being so mature, for handling everything with such grace. I know this news wasn't easy for you, but I am grateful that you have accepted Keigo and have chosen to be a part of my happiness."
Chosen? There was never a choice.
You leaned your head on his shoulder. "Of course, dad. I will always love you."
He kissed your forehead. "And I, you."
-
The next day went by blur, mostly because of the guests and servants running rampant. Momo and Katsuki were in the backyard, away from the party, and you only spared a few glances when they began to duel. You couldn't deal with them right now, not when you had to go and read the marriage contract before Keigo could sign it.
You were on your way when you heard Inko arguing loudly with someone. For a sweet lady like her, it's not normal for her to yell at anyone. So, you went to check out the commotion first.
"THIS IS NOT THE JEWELLERY PIECES I SENT FOR YOU TO POLISH!" Inko said furiously, slamming her hands on the table. You peeked at the man she was yelling at, recognising him as the royal jeweller. "WHERE IS PRINCESS Y/N'S RING?!"
"I- um- they-" the man stumbled over his words as you finally let yourself in.
"Your Majesty!" They both bowed, as you waved them off. "What's the matter Inko? Where's my mother's ring?"
She shot a furious glare to the man, who cowered. "That's what I'm trying to find out."
You stepped forward and looked at the man with a calm smile. "Where's my ring? Did something happen to it? Did you lose it?" You asked and you could only imagine Inko's murderous intent if the man said that he did lose it.
"No, princess- I didn't lose it! The ring- the ring it's with- concubine Keigo!" You face never dropped as fast as it did in that moment.
"What? How is this possible?" You interrogated.
"After- after I took your jewellery from Inko, King Dabi had called me in to display all of the royal family's jewels, including yours! When he left the room, he told concubine Keigo to pick anything he'd like to wear in the wedding ceremony, and- well- he picked the late queen's ring, saying that it'd remind him of the King's eyes." He explained helplessly, but you had already left the room, storming up the stairs to take back your ring.
You didn't even have to go to Keigo's Chambers as you found the concubine standing in the hallway, a drunk blush on his cheeks, and wearing something glimmerd in the dim halls-
Your mother's ring.
"Y/n! I've been looking for you! Come, come to papa!"
All sense of logic and manners went out the window as you stormed towards him and slapped him so hard across the face, that he fell.
Keigo hadn't even begun to recover from the shock of being slapped when you began punching him.
"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?" You screamed. "WAS IT NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU TO KILL MY MOTHER, TAKE HER THRONE, MARRY MY FATHER, THAT YOU HAD TO TAKE HER RING AWAY TOO?! THOSE ARE MY THINGS! THEY BELONG TO ME, YOU FUCKING SLUT!" You shrieked as Keigo tried to dodge your hits without hurting you.
His eyes went wide when you wrapped your hands around his throat and began choking him. "I'm going to fucking kill you! I'm going to end this for once and for all!"
"Y/N!" Someone yelled as they ripped you away from Keigo. "HAVE YOU FUCKING LOST IT!?" It was Dabi.
"YES!" You screamed. "I HAVE LOST IT, JUST LIKE YOU HAVE WHEN YOU DECIDED TO MARRY THAT FUCKING WHORE! IN FACT, I HAVE LOST A WHOLE LOT MORE THAN YOU! I HAVE LOST MY MOTHER BECAUSE YOU BROUGHT IN THAT FUCKING BITCH! I HAVE LOST MY GRANDFATHER BECAUSE YOU WERE BUSY SCREWING AROUND WITH THAT WHORE! I HAVE LOST MY ONLY FRIEND, BECAUSE YOUR MURDEROUS LITTLE SLUT DECIDED THAT I DO NOT DESERVE TO HAVE ANY HAPPINESS! AND I HAVE LOST MY MOTHER'S ONLY LEGACY BECAUSE YOUD MUCH RATHER GIVE IT TO YOUR NEW BED WARMER THAN TO ME!"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Dabi yelled, getting dangerously close to your face. "I WILL NOT TOLERATE ANYMORE INSULT AND DISOBEDIENCE FROM YOU! TOMORROW IS OUR WEDDING-"
"FUCK YOUR WEDDING! EVERYONE KNOWS YOURE GOING TO BE MARRYING A MURDERER AND ID MUCH RATHER KILL MYSELF THAN BE A PART OF THAT SHITSHOW!" Dabi went silent at your words, deathly silent. Then... he chuckled as he looked over his shoulder at Keigo who was already shaking his head, as if to stop him before he does something he regrets.
"Its about time she knows, eh?" Dabi said as he laughed.
"Dabi, dont-" Keigo started, but you cut him off. "Know what?" You spat.
Dabi looked at you, and his eyes held a cruel expression.
"Keigo didn't kill your mother. I did."
You couldn't- couldn't process the words that had left his mouth. So, you made him repeat himself.
"What?" You whispered. Dabi knelt down to your level, leaned closer to you so you could look into his eyes and see he wasn't lying.
"I. Killed. Your Mother." He said slowly, as if talking to a child. "I hated your mother, and the only reason I had been putting up with her for so long was because she was taking care of you. But one day, she thought she could threaten me by saying that she was going to leave me. I told her fine, signed the divorce papers and gave them to her. She wasn't expecting it, so she said she was going to take you with her. Now, that was something I couldn't allow. So, your mother decided to try to hurt me by poisoning you. When I found her plans, I confronted her and told her to either drink that same poison she bad for you or she was to leave tomorrow morning and never see any of us again. She instead chose to kill herself because she believed it'd be far more of a dishonour to return to her home as a divorcee and without child."
Tears slipped down your face. "N-No, you're lying. I saw Keigo-"
"Keigo tried to save her, but I told him no. I made him stop. The very thought of harming you was punishable. She deserved to die, and I had no sympathy for her when she dropped dead in front of me. I even had the antidote, but I chose to watch her die." Dabi said coldly. "All this time, Keigo had been covering up for me. He didn't say a word when rumors started, knly because he didn't want to have people see me as a murderer. He adored you, he's taken care of you, has quietly taken every insult you've ever thrown his way. And this is how you repay him?"
"Only Keigo and I have truly ever loved you. Your own mother wanted to kill you for her own selfish gains." Dabi said harshly as your world finally collapsed around you.
You couldn't say anything, do anything as you tried to make sense of his words, tried to find a way to that would tell you that he's lying. But you couldn't.
"GUARDS!" Dabi called. "Lock the princess in the hightower. Tie her to her bed, make sure she doesn't hurt herself or escape." He said before helping Keigo up. You couldn't protest as the guards dragged you to the hightower, didn't move a muscle as they tied you to your bed. All you could do was look up at the ceiling and cry mutely.
All these years, all this time, you'd been blaming Keigo, when everything that has ever happened to you was your beloved father's fault. The man you loved, the man you looked up to, the man you cherished... he had been the one who killed your mother?
The more you thought over his confession, the more you felt yourself age. By morning, you didn't have energy to even breathe.
The doors opened, you continued to look up at the wall, tears brimming your eyes.
Dabi walked in, and you didn't need to see his face to know he was still mad at you. No, the anger was practically radiating off him.
"You are to get ready and smile as you walk Keigo down the aisle. If you do something stupid, I will have your friends hunted down and killed. Do I make myself clear?" He didn't wait for an answer.
-
"Princess, please, at least eat something." Inko said pushing the slice of bread to your lips, but you didn't part them. Simply looking ahead in the mirror with a blank stare as the maids did your hair and makeup. "Izuku, she hasn't said a word since morning! I'm getting worried."
Izuku nodded and signalled the maids to leave. He turned your head towards to him and smiled warmly at you. "Y/n... princess, what's the matter? Tell me, so I can fix it, hm?"
Some things can never be fixed.
You didn't say anything, only looking at him with that hundred yard stare, and Izuku couldn't help but feel a little spooked.
He helped you walk towards the church where Keigo was already waiting for you. He was dressed in a white fitted gown that was sleeveless and backless, and had a fishtail. The dress itself had body chains made of gold and Ruby and sapphires sewed in an intricate pattern. And his veil? He didn't opt to wear one.
He looked at you and smiled kindly, although you couldn't really tell the difference at this point. "You look beautiful, Y/n." He held out his arm for you. "Ready to walk me down?"
You didn't have the energy or want to link your arm with his. Inko had to help you place your arm around his.
The doors to the church opened and the choir began singing hymns. The guests turned to look at you and Keigo, who was beaming as he looked at the end of the aisle where Dabi stood, a satisfied smile on his own face.
Your body felt weak, too weak and... different. You were dragging your steps, which fortunately no one could tell since they were hidden under your gown. At some point, it felt more like Keigo was walking you than you were walking him.
You weren't smiling at all. No, you still had the blank stare on your face, which luckily few people noticed since everyone was focused on Keigo.
"What's wrong with her?" Momo whispered to Katsuki as they saw your face. "Why does she look so... disturbed?"
"She must've seen your face." Katsuki remarked, although truth be told, he was also very concerned. Something felt off. Very off.
When you reached the end of the aisle, Dabi took Keigo's from you, and as rehearsed, they both kissed your cheek, but not before Dabi whispered-
"You forgot to smile. Behave."
Shotou guided you towards your seat in the front row, where you were sat next to your grandparents.
The officiant began the ceremony, but you couldn't pay attention to his words. All you could focus was on the turquoise ring on Keigo's hand.
"Y/n, are you alright?" Rei asked, a frown on her face. You didn't reply, opting to look at your father now.
Your father, your dad, the man you trusted more than anyone, the man who murdered your mother, who had murdered Tomura, who had murdered AFO, who had-
You couldn't breathe, you felt too warm, too hot, everything was burning inside you.
"You may now kiss the groom!" They locked lips, only breaking apart when someone screamed.
It took you a few seconds to realise that it was you who was screaming, only because-
Your hand was on fire.
By the time Dabi or anyone else reached you, your entire body had been engulfed in wild blue flames. Flames that were so hot and out of control, that neither Dabi or Enji or even Shotou could control them. Rei tried to use her ice, but it evaporated before it even came within 6 feet of you. The flames began spreading, making the guests panic and leave the church.
Shotou was the first one to piece it together. "Its her quirk!" Immeadiately, Enji and Dabi began giving you commands on how to control it, to calm yourself, to listen!
Dabi even tried to approach you, maybe if he were to touch you, you'd listen. But your fire was too hot, and you backed away anytime they tried to come closer, only screaming in agony as you burned yourself.
After 5 minutes, only when you fainted from pain and exhaustion did the flames stop. Your body... the aftermath made it beyond recognisable. Parts of your limbs were burned so badly, you could see the bone, while the rest of your skin had charred and burned well enough to know that no nerves will be working there.
Despite everything, you were still somehow miraculously breathing... barely. Dabi couldn't believe the nightmare he'd just witnessed, but his disbelief could wait as he gathered you in his arms and yelled at Shotou to get a doctor.
Everyone left the church, except for Keigo. He had dropped to his knees and was trying to wrap his around the horrible sight he'd seen. Be was trying to compose himself, trying to lie to himself that this... this was not his fault.
He knew he was wrong.
-
Dabi couldn't peel his eyes away from you, he needed to make sure that your chest rose and fell evenly. The moment it stopped- it wouldn't- but if it did, he needed to be there to resuscitate you.
Emperor Kai was fortunately right outside the church, waiting to be of assistance. It was a good thing he was from the land of healers, he was able to stabilise you.
While Dabi kept his eyes on your burned form, Kai opted to talk with Shotou. "It was her own quirk that brought out those flames, seemingly she got the dominant Todoroki quirk." He commented, glancing your way. "What she didn't inherit was the skin resistance to bare those very flames. She burned herself quite badly, and it doesn't help that the smoke from her own burning has damaged her lungs as well. She's still in a critical condition, I've done all I can. All we can do is wait and watch to see if her body can heal itself."
He also explained to Shotou that since its very rare to get a quirk at your age, that's why you couldn't control it. Kai reasoned that the reason your quirk did develop at that moment was probably because you were under some stress, maybe something had tipped you over emotionally, making your quirk appear so fiercely and harshly.
"Like an outlet, when we cry when we breakdown. She burned herself to release that stress." Kai explained.
Shotulou had walked him out of the room, only after ensuring that no one else was around did he ask that question.
"Her chances of survival... what are they?"
Kai's blank stare didn't give away the type of news he'd give. "Anything is possible, but it all depends on her body's ability to heal itself, her willpower to live. Medically speaking, I've done everything I can. Now, only she can save herself."
Can you save yourself, Y/n?
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So... THOUGHTS????
And yall better fucking comment because I did not waste my entire fucking day on this when I COULDVE BEEN STUDYING FOR MY TEST ON TUESDAY FOR YALL TO BE DRY ASS.
Istg if I don't get interactions and comments and likes, I will make yall regret and kill characters left and right, AND REMEMBER THAT DEATH IS NOT THE WORST THING I CAN DO
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kaisacobra · 8 months
Text
Let You Go - Tara Carpenter
Summary: It's been a while since Tara has seen you. She misses you, but maybe she's broken your relationship to a point beyond repair.
Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of death, angst
Word Count: 7.9k
a/n: thank you so much for the ride guys! Here we have part 3 of second best, which (kind of) ends this trilogy. Of course, I'm still writing the alternate ending so stay tuned if you're interested!
third part of Second Best
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It was two in the afternoon when Tara began rummaging through that box she kept at the back of her closet, sorting the contents into "burn" and "don't burn," all in line with what her therapist had advised. She needed to overcome the past, even if in small steps, and what better way to start than by burning traces of when everything started going wrong?
She looked into the box, examining the contents that would survive the purge. To no one's surprise, most of the photos contained you.
Tara reached for a specific photo among the others. A polaroid depicting a hug between the two of you, both with radiant smiles and faces so close that your cheeks touched. Mindy had taken this photo just before you both visited an amusement park that had been in town for a while. Tara's heart throbbed painfully. She missed you. A lot.
The girl sat on the bed with slumped shoulders, clutching the polaroid as if it were a precious possession. She couldn't take her eyes off the image of the two of you, with a happiness and innocence that would soon be ruined by her own actions. With a tired sigh, Tara closed her eyes, remembering her therapist's words.
The initial sessions were slow and unproductive, mainly because Tara kept her guard up and refused to talk much about her life to a stranger. Over time, the man became a pleasant presence, and Tara began to see him as some sort of a grandfather figure trying to advise his granddaughter. That's when she started sharing her problems and actively sought solutions.
"Do you think she'll forgive me?" she remembered asking, looking at her hands with shame. The bright white light in the room made the sweat on her palms stand out on her tan skin.
"Tara..." The man sighed, taking off his glasses as if he was preparing for a battle. "Don't you think you should worry about forgiving yourself first?"
The girl frowned and looked at him as if he were crazy. If anything, she was guilty of not only ruining her own life but also becoming a problem in everyone else's. She had no right to see herself as a victim. "What do you mean?"
"From what you've told me, I've realized you harbor a lot of resentment towards yourself on the inside." He pointed to Tara's chest, and she noticed no hint of judgment in his expression. Still, she felt strangely exposed. "Have you ever really reflected on this internal conflict you feel? About feeling guilty for things beyond your control?"
Tara scoffed and leaned back until her shoulders rested against the chair again, crossing her arms and staring at the walls like a stubborn child avoiding conflicts. "Beyond my control? I was awful to the best person in my life! I let a murderer into our life for-"
"See? You're doing it again." He smiled with a patience that bordered on irritating for the girl, crossing his hands on the glass table that separated them. "I'm not saying you're not at fault for being rude to your friend, but I'd like to focus on your past. That girl's attacks, parental abandonment... You're not to blame for that, Tara, but it doesn't stop you from carrying the pain anyways. Don't you think it affects you?"
She remained silent, but now her head was bowed in embarrassment. Her arms, once crossed, now enveloped her elbows in a half-hug, as if that would protect her from something. Without more exchanging words, the therapist followed the cue and continued speaking in a gentle tone, as if trying to educate a wounded animal.
"Tara, have you ever talked about your concerns with anyone, or have you just kept all these grievances inside until they exploded? Have you ever had any healthy coping mechanism?"
I don't deserve one. That's what she wanted to say, but didn't, because she knew it would make the situation even worse.
"Do you think I don't recognize the signs? Troubled young adult refuses help out of fear of abandonment and ends up driving everyone away, taking the opportunity to take out your emotional wounds on others? You won't be the first or the last person I've seen with this pattern." He spoke as if he could read her thoughts, leaving the girl a little scared.
Sitting up straighter in the chair, Tara turned her gaze back to the therapist, momentarily becoming interested in the conversation again. "Okay, what do I do to end this? What do I do to not be like this anymore?"
Broken, she wanted to say.
The man smiled gently and pulled open a drawer in the wooden cabinet to his left. Tara watched impatiently as he took out a black notebook and placed it on the table between them, looking between her and the object with a certain expectation. "I thought you could start documenting your feelings on paper, instead of keeping them locked within you. I think it can help you in the long run."
"Do you think writing in a journal will make me less of an ass and make y/n forgive me?" Tara replied with a sarcastic tone.
"I think it can influence a change in behavior, yes." The therapist reaffirmed, deliberately ignoring the girl's foul language. "And this exercise is not about y/n; it's about you. How do you expect her to forgive you if you can't do it for yourself?"
As stubborn as Tara was, the words had truly left an impression on her. That's why, on top of her messy desk, was the damn black notebook. The calluses on her hand throbbed with the memory of the force with which she wrote each new entry, trying to release her negative feelings onto paper.
She knew that your name was probably the most repeated word on all the pages, like a sacred mantra that she had to honor. Tara couldn't escape the fact that many of her emotions were so directly intertwined with the idea of you, and honestly, she accepted having to carry that burden as her own Sisyphean stone. She deserved it, after all.
Looking again at the polaroid, she sighed and slowly ran her thumb over the smiling image of your face, almost wishing she could offer you the same affection in person.
She was going to change. She had to change. For you.
_
"That was pretty good!"
The floodlights on the university’s sports field lit up as it began to get dark, allowing the young athletes to continue their training even at night. There weren't many people around, but you could see that the track team seemed to be gearing up to practice for the 100 meters a little to your left.
"Kate, I hit the white part." You grumbled in response to your friend's encouraging words. Kate Bishop had convinced you to attend one of her archery practices to "see her talents firsthand," and at some point, she thought just watching wouldn't be enough, and that you had to experience the sport for yourself.
That's why you were now on the archery training field with her, holding a semi-professional bow that was much heavier than you expected, proving over and over again that you were definitely not a natural at this.
It didn't seem to discourage Kate, however, as the girl still smiled with enthusiasm while looking at your target with a single arrow stuck in it. "At least you hit the target! You're improving; it could be worse."
"True! You could have hit someone's foot, like Miss Bishop did once." One of Kate's teammates, Yelena, commented with a laugh. The two, along with Maya Lopez, made up the Blackmore University women's archery team and were surprisingly good at it, having won all the recent competitions.
You laughed along with the other two while Kate gradually turned redder and assumed a betrayed expression. "Hey!" She protested.
It was amazing how people you had known for such a short time could make you feel so good. You couldn't even remember the last time you had laughed so freely since the incident with Tara happened, and that was already a significant victory for you. It's not like being with Mindy, Chad, Anika, and the others didn't make you happy, but it was hard to enjoy the moments with them when you remembered that, in any other situation, Tara would be there with you too.
Your phone vibrated in your pocket, and you leaned the tip of the bow on your foot, letting its weight rest on your shoulder so you could reach the device with your hands. Through the lockscreen, you could see a message notification from Mindy, as if she had read your thoughts.
Best Twin: Movie night at the Carpenters' house, are you coming?
Best Twin: Sam misses you
Best Twin: We all do
You sighed deeply and looked at the notification with a grimace, not sure exactly what to do. Of course, you would love to spend time with your friends, and you definitely felt guilty for avoiding Sam by extension, even though she understood the reason. But your palms started to sweat just at the thought of sharing a small space with Tara again.
Mindy had already told you that Tara had started therapy after the encounter you had in some of the university’s corridors some time ago, but she had also said that it was entirely valid if you still didn't feel ready to see Tara after everything.
It was a strange feeling, as if two forces were fighting for dominance within you when it came to Tara. On one hand, just thinking about her made your chest ache. A wave of anger, sadness, and pure humiliation invaded you, and your eyes threatened to well up. What she did to you, what she said to you, marked you like a painful burn that might never stop pulsating.
But on the other hand, you wondered if there were still traces of that other Tara who loved and treated you well. The Tara who made you soup when you were sick and promised never to leave you. Maybe it was your foolishness, but you didn't want to believe that that part of her had simply gone away forever.
"Are you okay?" A soft voice reached your ears and quickly snapped you out of your thoughts, causing you to loosen the tight grip with which you had involuntarily held the phone. Looking up, you came face to face with Kate's kind blue eyes, patiently waiting for your response.
Kate Bishop had been an angel in your life, fitting in perfectly at the moment you needed her most. You had met her in the waiting room of the counseling center after spending a week living like a zombie following everything that happened with Tara, and you could barely comprehend that you were sharing the same space with someone like her.
At first glance, Kate Bishop didn't seem like someone who needed to be in a counseling center. She carried herself with confidence, always with impeccable posture and a calm expression on a model-like face. Always dressed in neat clothes that you were sure were designer and carrying a sports bag indicating her athletic background.
But when she approached you and started a conversation, saying she needed to talk to someone or she'd explode with anxiety before her first appointment, you began to realize that Kate might not be what you expected. She was, in fact, much kinder and more attentive than you could have predicted.
You talked a lot that day, and the next day, and the day after, until there came a point where you got along well enough to consider her a friend. Kate listened to everything about your issues with Tara and provided advice and emotional support. In return, you listened to her vent about her problems with a father who died in childhood, a mother imprisoned for fraud, and an inherited company she didn't want to have to run at that age.
They were quite different dilemmas, just as you were quite different people, but still, you felt at ease in her presence, and it was good to have someone who truly noticed you for once in your life.
"Hm? Okay. It's fine, yes, I just..." You searched for words but gave up, opting to speak the truth about what was bothering you. "Mindy invited me to watch movies with the others, and it's at Tara's house, and I didn't want to have to refuse, but I don't know if I'm ready for-"
Kate widened her eyes and raised her hands as if asking for a pause, interrupting your rapid and anxious flow of words. "Woah, hold on, champ. You don't have to go if you don't feel okay. They'll understand."
"Yeah, I know, it's just that..." You sighed, looking down at your feet planted in the field's grass. "I miss them, but... I can't."
As much as it hurt and was embarrassing to admit, you knew it still wasn't the right time. Not when you sometimes still woke up crying in the middle of the night with nightmares involving her.
"Then how about this?" Kate began to suggest, getting closer to you and gently shaking your shoulders. Physical touches had always been her way of offering comfort. "There's a party at my place tonight with some of my childhood friends, and I'm officially inviting you. You can tell your friend that you'll be busy spending time with a very beautiful, charming, and talented company."
You smiled as you let yourself be shaken by the cheerful girl in front of you. "A very humble company, apparently." You teased, poking her ribs playfully. "I don't want to disturb you, but thanks for the invite."
"Disturb? I'd be the one disturbing your illustrious evening by forcing you to hang out with my friends! Believe me, it's torture listening to Peter for 2 hours when he gets excited about his nerd stuff." Kate tried again, and by the way she looked at you with the expression of a begging puppy, you knew there would be no escape. "Please? It'll be nice to have you there."
There were two available possibilities. In the first, you could go back to your dorm, watch a bad movie alone, and spend the rest of the night thinking about how your friends would be having fun, specifically wondering if she would be having fun. In the second, you could take another step in getting rid of your codependent friendship (if it still existed) and enjoy the night with new people and a person who was becoming more and more important to you every day.
If Tara didn't want to be stuck in the past, you also had the right to do that. You deserved it too.
So, you accepted and only remembered to inform Mindy when you were already in the passenger seat of Kate's black Audi RS7.
_
Tara was distraught. Actually, saying that she was distraught was an understatement.
Last night had already started off as garbage from the moment Mindy announced that you wouldn't be coming to see them at the apartment. Sure, she should have expected it, but that didn't mean she didn't have any hope. She couldn't stop thinking about what you might be doing, the reasons why you hadn't come, how everything would have been better if you had.
But mostly, she felt relieved that you hadn't been there, because that meant she hadn't put you in danger again with another ghostface attack. It was a selfish thought. Quinn, her roommate, had died in front of her, Anika had her belly almost cut from end to end and was now in surgery, and all Tara could think about was finding you to see with her own eyes that you were okay.
She urgently searched for your face in the midst of the crowd of students walking through the Blackmore University campus, seeking the slightest fragment of your presence anywhere. She cursed herself again for not being able to just call you like she would if she hadn't messed up and made you block her in practically every possible place.
Finding you and making sure you were okay, in addition to delivering the terrible news, was her obligation. Mindy and Sam were with Anika at the hospital, and Chad had gone to check Ethan's alibi in the damn economics class. She needed to find you.
Fortunately, her prayers seemed to be answered by whatever entity it was. She saw you in the distance, radiant as she hadn't seen you in a long time. Tara's heart skipped a beat, and she opened her own smile after yours. It was bittersweet, the feeling of seeing you so happy but knowing that this happiness would be ruined the moment you laid eyes on her.
In a moment of distraction, a new wave of people passed in front of her, blocking her view of you. Fucking height. She thought with some annoyance as she tried to make her way through the students, trying to get closer to where you were.
When Tara finally managed to locate you again, the scene was quite different from before. Instead of laughing, looking forward, you had your back turned, seemingly struggling while a girl wrapped her arms around your neck. Tara felt a wave of anger rise through her veins and marched in your direction, ready to free you from whoever that crazy bitch was.
The younger Carpenter approached you with a speed she couldn't quite explain, and her motivation only seemed to grow when she noticed that the mysterious girl looked a lot like that senior she had seen with you in the hallway some time ago. Choosing to embrace her negative feelings, she used her strength in a way that would make her sister proud and aggressively pushed the girl away. "What do you think you're doing?!"
"Tara?!" You exclaimed in shock, your voice carrying surprise, and your expression wavering between anger, astonishment, and anguish. "What do you think you're doing, are you crazy?!"
Tara saw you getting closer to the girl (Karen, Kendra, she couldn't remember.) and gently placing your hand on her shoulder, as if checking her condition. That small gesture made more anger bubble in her stomach. She wanted to scream, throw a fit, damn, she wanted to destroy something just to get rid of that rotten feeling corroding her from the inside.
But she looked into your eyes and could see a glimpse of the sadness she had caused in the past by this same line of thinking. She couldn't do this to you again, especially because that wasn't even why she had come looking for you. Tara swallowed hard and clenched her fists, deciding to save her frustration to take it out on calluses on her own fingers later.
"She was attacking you," Tara mumbled reluctantly, knowing that the explanation sounded stupid but that she also owed some reasoning for her actions.
You clearly didn't seem satisfied with her motivation, as you only stared at her with a frown and crossed arms. "Kate is a martial arts expert, Tara. She was just showing me how to escape from an arm lock."
Well, how was I supposed to know that? Tara thought, but she decided it was better not to worsen the situation. Before you could ask why she had been clearly looking at you for some time, she decided to explain.
"Look, I'm sorry. There was a ghostface attack in the apartment yesterday, and I just needed to know if you were safe."
"What?! An attack?! How- Are you guys okay?!" You asked exasperated, and Tara saw it. She saw the exact moment when you had to restrain your arms by your sides before doing something you would regret.
Tara remembered that being the first thing you did when you could see her after the surgeries last year. You ran to her on the gurney and held her face with both hands, as if she were fragile. You ran your thumbs over her cheeks, right above the freckles, wanting to make sure nothing was injured. She remembered feeling well cared for and loved.
But that was before she messed everything up. Now, all that was left was that. You restraining yourself from offering your heart to Tara, and she wanting to die realizing the damage she had done between you two.
"Sort of. Anika is in critical condition in the hospital, and... Quinn died." Tara delivered the news with a solemn voice, trying to control her own tears as she remembered what happened. She saw when Kate raised her arm to offer a comforting stroke on your back, and, for the first time, all Tara felt was emptiness knowing she couldn't comfort you in that way.
You let out a few sobs before trying to compose yourself. It was clear that you had been affected by the events, and Tara knew you well enough to know that you would want to go after the others to comfort them. "Which hospital is Anika in? And where are Sam, Mindy, and Chad, I... I need to talk to them."
Tara felt a bit of pride in realizing that she still knew your way of dealing with things, even though she was worried that your priority was always to take care of others' pains. Of course, much of that was her fault, and a knot closed in her throat every time she remembered that fact. "Sam and Mindy are at the hospital waiting for Anika to be discharged. Chad went with Ethan to handle something about an alibi."
"I can take you if you want," Kate offered you  in a chivalry that almost made Tara vomit. "It will be faster if we go by car."
"Or maybe it would be faster for her to take the subway with someone who knows the address, like me." Tara retorted sarcastically, crossing her arms to try to cause, at least, the minimal intimidation to her rival. It didn't seem to be working, which made her even more irritated. "Speaking of addresses, where were you last night, Kate?"
Feeling that the conversation would only escalate, you quickly shook your head. "Stop it, Tara. There's no way Kate could be the ghostface."
"And why not?" The girl asked defensively, with an offended tone almost similar to one she would have if you had accused her. It was frustrating for Tara that you seemed willing to vouch for a person you had barely known. "She suddenly appeared in your life, got so close to you in such a short time, don't you find that a bit suspicious?"
"This might sound a bit surprising to you, Tara, but some people actually like having me around." You retorted with irritation, throwing daggers at the girl with a look so intense that she almost stumbled backward. "Kate can't be ghostface because I spent the whole night with her, okay?"
Suddenly, Tara felt dizzy, with a buzzing in her ears. Apparently, you hadn't had the best problem in overcoming your feelings for her. She felt weird inside, as if something were stuck in her throat. "Oh, I didn't know you guys..."
"No! Not like that, I just..." You widened your eyes and hurried to correct the double meaning of the sentence, waving your hands frantically in a way that made Kate open a smile in amusement beside you. "...I slept at her apartment, but not with her. Not that I owe you an explanation anyway."
Your phone vibrated with a notification, and all three pairs of eyes turned to the device. You quickly checked the message and let out a sigh of relief. "It's Sam. She sent me the address of the hospital; I'm going there now. Without any of you, please."
"Okay. Just be careful, alright? And call me if you need anything." Tara watched reluctantly as Kate pulled you closer by the shoulders and planted a small kiss on your forehead. She swallowed the envy and looked away, trying to think of the last time she had offered you any kind of affection.
You said goodbye to Kate with a warm smile and a hug. For Tara, your lips pressed into a line, and you nodded briefly, almost as if you were greeting a stranger.
She wondered if that's what you two were now.
The Carpenter girl prepared to leave, maybe to find Chad and help him or just take a walk to ease the tornado swirling in her chest. However, she was interrupted by a hand on her arm. Kate Bishop tried to get her attention, wearing a conflicted expression on her face.
"What is it?" Tara grumbled, shaking her arm to free herself from the other girl's touch. She was used to being shorter than most people, but with Kate, it became even more annoying, especially when she had to look down at her.
"Look, I know you don't like me, and, to be honest, I don't like you one bit, but I need you to do something for me," Kate said seriously, putting a hand in her pocket and retrieving an object that Tara could only identify as a car key.
The shorter one scoffed. "Listen, I know Y/N and I are on bad terms, but I don't need you to ask me to take care of her. I'm going to do that anyway because I care about her, believe it or not."
Kate rolled her eyes impatiently. "I know. I can see that in you the same way you can see it in me."
It was true, as much as it bothered Tara to admit. She wasn't blind, and she had enough experience in reading people to know that the way Kate looked at you was sincere, and the girl genuinely cared about you. Putting aside her own jealousy and envy, Tara was relieved to know that there was someone good enough to show these feelings for you. You deserved it, after all.
The girl continued, "This device here is a prototype from my mom’s—my company. It's for security." She raised the object and placed it in Tara's hand, who could now see the details of what she had previously thought was a car key. It was a black oval keychain with a single button in the middle, also black. "I pulled some strings and turned it into an emergency button. As soon as you press it, a signal will be sent to police cars and ambulances, and it will be their priority to get to you. That's one of the advantages of being rich and having contacts, I guess."
Tara turned the button in her hands, feeling the object weigh more now that she knew its function. "And why are you giving this to me and not Y/N?"
"Because I know she would use it on anyone but herself." Kate sighed in frustration. Tara knew it was implied in the sentence that you would use the button for her. "I'm giving it to you because... despite the fighting and you being a jerk..."
"Wow. Thanks for the honesty."
"... I can still see that you care." The taller one finished her sentence without caring about the interruption. She looked between Tara and the button with a bit of uncertainty. "When you press it, a signal will also be sent to my phone, and I'll come running wherever it is."
There were more implicit intentions in that sentence that Tara could pick up. I'll come running to help Y/N. I'll take her away from you. I can protect her better than you can.
Tara just offered a short nod and turned to leave, with the emergency button weighing as much in her pocket as her heart weighed in her chest. Thousands of thoughts filled her head, and all of them were about you and your safety. It was Tara's duty to keep you safe, first because it was her fault that you were even in that situation, and second because she had already hurt you enough.
It was her mission to protect you. To prove to herself that she could still be good for you. To prove to you how much she still cared.
And if she couldn't, if she had to press that button... well...
Maybe it would be the sign she needed to understand that Kate Bishop deserved more of a place in your life than she did.
_
The lobby of the abandoned cinema ironically looked like something straight out of a horror movie that Tara would hate. Dust had piled up in heaps on all surfaces, and the orange lights were so dim that they threatened to go out at any moment.
The others were in the center of the other room, where Richie Kirsch, being the maniac he was, left his extensive collection of items from stab movies and real life ghostfaces. Tara, however, thought it would be a better idea to follow you wherever your feet and lost expression took you, just so she wouldn't have to leave you alone, of course.
You had your back turned to her while leaning on the filthy counter with your elbows. Tara couldn't tell what you were thinking, but obviously, you were not okay, just like everyone else in that situation.
From the corner of her eye, she saw a box of Milk Duds on the other side of the counter that seemed untouched, just a few inches to your left. She approached with light steps, not wanting to make any sudden movements as if that would scare you away, and reached out to bring the box closer. "You like these, right? You can have them if you want."
You didn't respond to the joke, and you didn't even turn around to look at Tara. She felt your indifference like a stab to the chest, but she continued nonetheless. "Or not. This must be like a thousand years old anywa-"
"Tara, shut up." You finally responded sharply, making the younger girl look down in shame. She really needed to get used to your new treatment of her. You ran your hands over your face, covering it as if you were tired.
"Sorry." Tara whispered back weakly. She deserved it, but more than anything, she wanted to be able to offer you some kind of support in that difficult moment, just as you had given her all the support she needed in the past.
You scoffed, in a gesture so hostile that the younger Carpenter almost couldn't believe it came from you. You were still facing away from her, but now slowly taking steps away with tense shoulders. "Did you learn a new word? Didn't know it was in your vocabulary."
Tara felt the anger in your voice, and it made her hands begin to tremble with anxiety. You were right, and it was long overdue for you to know that. "I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it's too late for this, but I'm sorry for everything I did."
"Do you even care? Seriously, Tara, do you really feel sorry, or do you just miss having some idiot around who would do anything for you?" You retorted, your voice rising even as your vocal cords trembled. A dam had just burst open between you two, and now it was time to deal with the flood.
"Of course, I care, I love you!"
"SHUT UP!" You shouted in response. Tara recoiled from you with a start, startled as she had never seen you raise your voice at anyone. You were still facing away, but Tara could see that, even though you had wrapped yourself in a hug to control your reactions, it wasn't working. Your entire body was tense, as if your brain was struggling to choose between fight or flight, and the result was the tremors that seemed to spread through your system. "You have no right to do this to me! To play with me like this!"
"I'm not lying!" The shorter one retorted, and in an impulsive move, she grabbed you by the shoulder and forced you to turn until your gazes met. Tears were already streaming down your eyes like waterfalls, and your entire face seemed contorted in excruciating pain. Tara wished she could absorb all your hurt for herself. "I know I messed up, but I really love you!"
"You're toxic, Tara! That's what you are!" You shouted back with strength, holding the girl's gaze as if it were a challenge you needed to win. "You hurt me! And I was getting better, damn it, I was getting better away from you!"
"I know you were! I know! That's why I'm apologizing, okay? Because you're the best person I've ever met, and I ruined you like I ruin everyone! Because the best moments I've ever had were with you, and I feel like tearing my eyes out when I remember that I hurt you by being this way!"
"Tara..."
"No! Please let me finish." She rejected your interruption, taking the opportunity to relieve all the pain and guilt she felt inside her. "I'm getting treatment, okay? And I know you're not obligated to forgive me for anything, but I want you to know that I'm trying to be better for you! I'm trying to fix my shit to be someone you and Sam and the others can be proud of!"
"Tara..."
"And I know I hurt you a lot, but please don't doubt the love I feel for you because it's the only good thing left in me. I won't blame you if you never want to see me again, but..."
"TARA, GET DOWN!" You shouted, and before Tara could react, you were already pushing her toward the dusty wooden floor.
Everything was happening too fast for the Carpenter's mind to process. She hit the ground with a grunt of pain and a potential bruise on her arm, but she could see the exact moment when an arm covered in a black cloak descended toward your leg, making a deep cut in your thigh.
You screamed in pain, and Tara screamed next, watching your blood soak through the fabric of your pants and start dripping onto the floor. In a surge of adrenaline, the small girl ran to your side and almost reached for your arm when she was suddenly engulfed in a tight grip, with her two arms pinned to her back and a hand holding a knife to her neck.
She struggled against the masked person holding her, futilely trying to break free to get to you. Tears streamed so quickly down her face that she could taste the saltiness invading her senses. "Let me go! Y/N, run! Please, run!"
A sinister laugh reached her ears like the hiss of a snake. "Oh, Tara. Did you think it would be that easy?"
She recognized that distorted voice with effects all too well. She still heard it in her nightmares, calling her name in the dark. Ghostface was back. "I'm going to kill you, you motherfucker!"
"Oh, but I don't think so." The voice spoke in an amused tone as another killer, wearing the same mask and black cloak, approached your figure on the ground. Tara wailed like a banshee when the other pulled your hair forcefully, forcing you to stand up as he placed a knife on your neck.
She struggled a little more. "Leave her alone!"
"And where's the fun in that?" The ghostface holding her responded, almost as if they were laughing. "Come on, Tara. Weren't you the one who liked to release your anger by hurting Y/N? Why should only you have that privilege? Let's see, where was it that you got stabbed again?"
At the same time, as if reacting to a code, the ghostface holding you advanced in quick and precise movements, gripping you by the waist with one arm while thrusting the knife into you with the other, just above your kidney.
You let out another gasping scream as the blade pierced your skin, and Tara felt your body sagging as if you were about to collapse. She herself wanted to fall to her knees and plead for you to be released, but she couldn't. Whoever was holding her had great strength.
"Don’t you want her to feel the same pain you felt, huh, Tara? Don't want her to suffer what you suffered?" The voice continued to growl in her ear, sounding increasingly excited by the escalating violence. The knife on Tara's neck kept her head in place, so she couldn't look at anything other than your agony.
"No, I don't. Please, PLEASE." Tara pleaded with a tearful voice as another stab was delivered to you, this time in the center of your abdomen. Your shirt gradually turned into a pool of blood, and Tara feared you would faint at any moment.
"Tara..." You could barely pronounce her name, your voice choked and your own blood streaming down your lips. Tara's gaze met yours, and she shivered when you shook your head. She knew what that meant.
You looked feverish. Sweat and blood mingled on your skin, creating the most disturbing of the paintings. Your eyes were vacant, and Tara was so afraid they would close at any moment, never to open again.
And yet, with that nod of your head, Tara understood that your top priority at the moment was to make her understand that it wasn't her fault.
The girl's knees threatened to give up as the knife entered you one, two, three times. She shook her head but couldn't close her eyes because she needed to see you, needed to see that your eyes were still open, that you were still alive.
You couldn't die. You promised not to leave, even if everyone else did. You couldn't die. You couldn't die. You. Couldn't. Die.
"I love you. I'm sorry for loving you, I'm sorry," Tara whispered because she had no strength to speak louder. She felt on the verge of giving up and letting those maniacs do whatever they wanted with her. Nothing mattered anymore if you weren't here, and it was all her fault.
The ghostface holding her laughed with a deep voice. "You know, I could turn this into a Romeo and Juliet scene, but I think it would be more fun to kill you while Sam is watching."
With that, Tara felt her body being thrown backward, and she hit the dirty wooden floor again, this time landing with her head in a wound that would undoubtedly become a concussion.
She got up in a frenzied pace, in an adrenaline rush, thinking she could try to save you now that she was free. But, looking ahead, she realized she was outside the lobby’s door, and the maniac murderer already held the handles. Despite Tara's attempt to advance, the ghostface had already sarcastically waved and locked the doors, creating a deadly separation between you and herself.
Tara pounded on the hard wooden door, ignoring the pain in her knuckles. She hit and hit and hit, feeling cuts open on her skin and burn from the repetitive contact. She was crying, screaming, punching, cursing, doing things she couldn't even rationalize because it didn't matter anymore.
Nothing mattered anymore. Not without you.
She collapsed on the floor, tired, injured, and desperate for you. Her sobs echoed in the seemingly empty hallway, and she was too afraid to put her ear to the door and hear screams of pain like your last breath. Tara felt lost until she remembered that she was no longer trapped.
Rushing to reach the device in her pocket, she sighed in relief to find it unbroken. She pressed the button multiple times without a second thought. If she had a chance to maybe save your life, she would grab it without a doubt.
Tara remembered what she had thought before, how pressing that button might symbolize that she shouldn't be in your life. She stood up and leaned against the wall, trying to rid herself of the wave of nausea, and left the button hidden near the door. If help came following the signal, the first place they would look would be where you were.
If help came and you made it out alive, that was a promise. Tara would finally leave you alone. That's what you deserved.
---
Tara was almost sure she had developed a hospital phobia since the events of last year.
There was no other explanation for why she felt uneasy in that environment, even after they had taken all precautions for her. She still hated the white walls and the smell of chemicals and couldn't wait to get out of there.
For now, she decided to ignore this feeling and continued following Sam through the corridors of fluorescent lighting. It was important for her to stay inside until they finally found the doctor who could tell them what they wanted to know.
She checked her hands again, finding the tanned skin covered in some bandages but free from the mixture of her blood and Ethan's after she... lost control.
After she was separated from you, everything happened so fast that Tara could almost think it was all a delusion. All the revelations, the attacks, her adding another victim to her count, the police arriving... All of that had taken a back seat because nothing was more important than you.
It was as if her life had turned into a black and white movie in the moments she was without you. Everything felt colorless, purposeless. Fortunately, she was pulled out of her own spiral of melancholy when she saw you being taken out of the old movie theater on a stretcher by paramedics. She tried to get closer, but it was needed to give you space so that nothing touched your wounds and caused an infection.
Tara tried to go in the ambulance with you, but she and Sam were pulled for another checkup, and you needed to be rushed to a surgery room urgently if you wanted to have the slightest chance of survival. So, Tara let you go, but there was not a moment when you weren't on her mind.
That's why now, she desperately searched for your surgeon with Sam. No one seemed to know about your condition, and she already felt like tearing her hair out from anxiety. Tara just needed to know if you were at least breathing.
"Dr. Isley?" Sam called the attention of a red-haired doctor who was passing by them in a hurry. Tara sighed in relief that her sister was paying attention to her surroundings because her mind was in a completely different place. "We were informed that you performed emergency surgery on a family member. Her name is Y/n Y/L, admitted with multiple stab wounds."
"Oh, yes. Miss Y/L." The doctor replied in a professional tone, but there was impatiency all over her body language. "It was a difficult surgery, and she lost a lot of blood, but fortunately, no vital organs were hit. I won't lie, the recovery will be painful, but at least she survived the operation without any apparent severe collateral effects."
This was the best news Tara had heard in days. She opened a smile and didn't even try to hide her own happiness as she prolonged the conversation. "Is she in any room? Can we see her?"
"Miss Y/L is in room 604, but I'm afraid only one person is allowed in at a time to avoid any disturbance."
"No problem, we can take turns." Sam pointed between her and her sister. Despite seeming much calmer than the younger one, Tara knew Sam was just as relieved as she was to know that you were still alive.
"No, you didn't understand. There's already someone in Miss Y/L's room." Dr. Isley warned and, seemingly losing the rest of her patience, she began to walk away. "Sorry, but I have other patients to attend to."
The two Carpenter sisters looked at each other alarmed. Who could be in your room? Chad was still in his own surgery, Anika had gone to stay with Mindy while she received some stitches, and frankly, your parents had never been present enough to travel between states so quickly for your sake.
They walked down the corridor, moving as fast as possible without disturbing the other people being treated or working in the area. Tara's heart threatened to jump out of her mouth as she looked from door to door, searching for the numbering of your room. 601. 602. 603.
Tara stopped so abruptly at the door that she and Sam bumped into each other, their sneakers making noise against the shiny white floor. The simple door had a small window through which it was possible to see the inside of the room without necessarily entering. Tara looked inside, ready to break the handle and force her way in if necessary.
But it wasn't, because Tara Carpenter recognized exactly the girl sitting next to your bed, holding your hand gently and stroking your hair, even though you were sleeping. She remembered, with a tightness in her chest, that Kate Bishop would be notified the moment she pressed the button.
And, in her own words, she would come running to take care of you.
"Tara, who-"
"I have to go." Tara interrupted her sister's words, looking at the scene in front of her without blinking. She knew what she had to do; there was no reason to fight the facts.
"What? What do you mean? You just got here." Sam asked, partially annoyed and partially confused by the younger one's actions.
"You heard the doctor. Her recovery will be painful, and if I stay around, all I'll cause is more pain." Tara opened a small smile just to try to pretend that she wasn’t dying inside. She knew Sam could see the truth, that she could see her broken heart and internal conflict, but she also knew that was the only possible solution.
"Tara..."
"Sam, you know I'm right. You told me that yourself a few days ago, remember? I hurt her." The girl shook her head in surrender and took a few steps away from the door. Away from you. "She needs peace, Sam. And the only way she can get that now is if I'm not around."
Tara took one last look inside the room, seeing how peaceful you looked. Sleeping, without any worries, and with an incredible and caring person by your side, ready to help you in whatever you needed.
Someone much better than her.
Perhaps that was the first time Tara had made a selfless decision in a long time, but she didn't feel deserving of any credit for it. What she had to do now was get better. Maybe more entries in her journal and more visits to her therapist would eventually fill the void she felt within her.
For now, she just turned around and started walking away from room 604. Each step hurt, like a razor cutting her skin, but it was the right thing to do. Tara had hurt you for far too long, and now...
Now it was time to let you go.
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