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blueseachelle · 1 year

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Everything Goes On

Ominis Gaunt x Sick! MC! Reader

Warning: Angst

Summary:

“Sebastian. Promise me you’ll do what I asked of you. Take care of him.”

Inspiration: Everything Goes On by Porter Robinson

Y/n was doomed from the start. She was born with a disease no one could cure. The doctors and wizards alike tried to find something but, to no avail. They could only come up with a medicine that will slow down the process. She accepted for the sake of her family but, was happy to just let go then deal with the constant pain she was under.

At the age of 15, she found her magical ability and was brought to Hogwarts, sorted into the house of Slytherin. There, she met Sebastian and Ominis. She became close with them, of course not telling them of her condition. She pushed through her pain and struggles to save Hogwarts, fulfilling her duty as a Keeper of ancient magic. During all of this, She and Ominis fell in love and started to date. They truly did love each other. But, Y/n said nothing still.

Soon, she helped Sebastian cure Anne by the use of her ancient magic. She mimicked Isadora but, instead of storing it in jars and such, she took it in herself and her sick body. She felt her time cutting shorter and shorter everyday.

She told the one person she could trust with the trust, Sebastian. He would take care of Ominis for her so, they discussed it one night.

“Sebastian. I need to ask you to do something for me.”

“Sure, what is it?”

Ominis retired to bed log ago so, she felt confident in that he wouldn’t here this. The (E/c) eyed girl sighed, closing her eyes,

“I need to start from the beginning.”

Sebastian set down his book and looked at her with curiosity. She continued,

“I was born with an incurable condition and all the doctors and wizards could do was make medication to slow it down. It’s my time, Sebastian. I fulfilled my Keeper duties and healed your sister, taking the infliction upon myself. I’m getting weaker and weaker every day. I need to go home and live my last days with my family so they can have closure. Here’s what I ask you to do. I want you to Obliviate Ominis’s memories of me. I don’t want him to suffer my death. I know you can do it for me. Would you?”

Sebastian nodded, "I'll do my best. I promise Y/n. Make sure you get much rest and write when possible or up for it. The sick girl smiled, "Of course. I'll try my best."

Ominis sat in his Magic History class. It was boring as always was. As the rays of sunshine cast on him, he felt his eyes grow heavy. Soon he was asleep.

Ominis usually didn't have dreams but, this time, it was different.

"Ominis!" The blind boy heard a voice excitedly shout at him. He felt himself smile as he turned around. His wand made out the figure of a smaller girl. She felt familiar to him. She ran up to him and hugged him. He hugged her back, taking in her scent. She smelt sweet like honeysuckles. He relished in her touch as they stood in an embrace. She mumbled into his chest, "I've missed you." Ominis chuckled, "We only went to sleep. How can you miss me that fast?" The girl just pouted making the blonde boy laugh and hold her closer. "Don't worry. I missed you too, My Love."

Ominis woke up with a jump. He heard the shuffling of papers so, he knew class had ended. He stood up and gathered his things quickly. He left the room in thought. Who was that girl? What did he feel... longing for her? What was her name?

As he made it back to the common room, Sebastian showed himself.

"Ominis! Did you hear? Anne has been cured!"

Ominis looked over at him,

"How? Didn't everything that could be done was?"

Sebastian patted his friends back,

"Y/n- I mean, a wonderful witch broke her curse and Anne was healed as a result. She is doing great and should be back with us by next year."

"That's amazing."

Ominis didn't bring attention that he heard the slip-up. Who was this Y/n? Why did that name sound familiar? They made it to their common room and Ominis went up to his dorm. He sat on his bed in deep thought. Maybe if he fell asleep another clue will unravel itself? He lay down and fell asleep.

"My Love? What are you doing?" Ominis wrapped his arms around the girl in front of him. She giggled and pecked his cheek, "I'm washing my face before bed. Helps the skin, you know." He kissed her wet cheek and smiled before hearing a groan from outside of the bathroom, "Y/n, Ominis. Are you going to take all night in there? I need to shower!" Sebastian knocked on the door. Y/n giggled and dried her face. "We're coming out! No need to get your knickers in a bunch." Ominis kissed her lips. She smiled and kissed him back. For once in his life, he felt complete.

Ominis was plagued by these dreams for a week before giving in. He needed to ask someone about this. Sebastian was the only one that could truly solve this for him so, he met him in The Undercroft one night.

Sebastian and Ominis sat silently reading. The blonde male took a breath,

"Sebastian."

"Yes?"

"Who is Y/n?"

Sebastian stared at him who stared back. He took a shuttering breath,

"Why do you want to know?"

"I've been plagued by dreams or memories of some sort. All I know is that I miss her. Who is she?"

Sebastian looked down at the ground in thought before he spoke,

"Ominis. I just want you to know Y/n asked me to do it before I explain it."

The blind male nodded,

"Please just tell me."

Sebastian moved and sat next to him. He then started to explain who Y/n was and that she was Ominis's girlfriend. She was born sick and asked Sebastian to Obliviate his memories of her so he didn't mourn her death. She healed Anne and went back home to be with her family for her last day.

"She hasn't written to me in a while so, I assumed that she was finally at peace now."

Ominis sat in shock. All his memories flooded back to him like a title wave. He felt so many things but, he knew Y/n's heart was in the right place.

Tears poured down his face as he stood and grabbed Sebastian's collar,

"Where is she?! Tell me now!"

He yelled into the brunette's face. Sebastian froze in shock before stuttering out,

"S-She's in London."

Ominis dropped his collar and walked out of The Undercroft. He walked to his dorm and started to pack a bag. He will find her. No matter what. He dug in Sebastian's drawer, pulled out an older letter from Y/n, and got the address from it.

He went to the nearest floo and started his journey to England.

----~

Y/n sat in her bed. Her body weak and losing muscle mass. She looked as bad as she felt. She let her thoughts wonder to Ominis and Sebastian. How were they? Was Ominis as at peace as she was?

She sighed. Her ribs rattled in her chest as she did.

"Y/n, love. I brought some soup to feed you."

Her mother sat next to her with the bowl and a spoon. She carefully fed her the soup sip by sip. After the small portion was finished, her mother had her sip some water.

Y/n came from a upper class family. Just a muggle family but, she was happy with it. They weren't scared of magic like other's. They encouraged her magic abilities.

Her mother pat her mouth with a napkin and kissed her forehead,

"I love you. darling. I'll check on you if a few."

"Okay."

Y/n closed her eyes. She was just growing more and more tired. She didn't know how long she had but, she longed for it to come quickly. She suffered for far too long. She was tired.

Y/n's father answered the door after hearing a knock. There stood a blonde male with green vest and black slacks. The older man raised an eyebrow,

"Can I help you, son?" The murky eyed boy nodded,

"Is this the L/n residence?"

"Yeah. How can I help you?"

The boy took a shuttered breath, "I'm Ominis Gaunt from the House of Gaunt. I came to see Y/n, if possible."

The older man shook his head,

"I'm sorry, I can't let you. She is not feeling well and we don't want to stress her-"

"Thomas! Let him in. That's the boy from the letters."

The lady yelled at Thomas and nudged him out of the way,

"I'm sorry about that, Ominis. Excuse Thomas. My name is Evelynn, Y/n's mother. Please come right in."

Ominis was led into the house. Evelynn led him to Y/n's place of rest. She gently knocked on the door and peaked in, "Y/n, honey. There's a friend that came to see you."

Y/n opened her eyes gentle before croaking out,

"They can come in."

Ominis stepped past her mother. Y/n's eyes widened, "Why are you here? You aren't supposed to be."

Ominis said nothing as he moved to sit next to her bed. Evelynn gently closed the door to give them privacy.

"I'm here and I know everything. Sebastian's Obliviate was temporary. I'm just happy I got to you before you weren't here anymore."

He gently held her hands. He felt how much they changed. She really was going to die. This shattered his heart. He wished that it was a cruel joke and everything was going to be okay but, He knew it wasn't.

Y/n's eyes watered,

"I'm sorry. I didn't want you to suffer more than you have already. I'm sorry."

Ominis caressed her gaunt face and dried her tears with his thumbs.

"No. Don't apologize. I already have forgiven you. I know you had the right intentions. I just want to be here with you until I can't anymore. I love you too much to just forget about you."

Y/n tried to nuzzle her face into his hand but, she couldn't.

"I love you too, Ominis. I wish I could stay for you but, It's my time."

Ominis nodded,

"I know, My Dearest. I will never forget you and I will never love another for as long as I live. I will meet you on the other side."

He gentle lifted her hand and kissed it,

"Just promise to come visit or send me a message."

Y/n smiled as she started to cry,

"I promise to send you a dove and visit. I love you, Ominis."

"I love you too, Y/n."

He gently kissed her on the lips. When they parted, they sat forehead to forehead for a while. As the night started to darken the room, Ominis fell asleep with his head on the edge of the bed and Y/n's hand on his head.

Throughout the night, Y/n let go. Ominis woke up just before her final breath. He held her close as her body grew heavy. He sobbed as he called for her mother. The three of them sobbed together.

A little voice chimed into his head during his sobs. A (H/c) haired girl with beautiful (E/c) colored eyes looked at him with love and peace. She wore a white dress in a field of white clouds.

"Don't cry, Ominis. I love you. Just remember, Everything Goes On."

#ominis x reader #hogwarts legacy #x reader #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy imagine #ominis gaunt x you #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis #ominis gaunt fanfiction #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #ominis gaunt headcanon #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis x mc #ominis x you #ominisgaunt #ominis imagine #angst prompt

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scarlet--wiccan · 8 months

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are the cap's kooky quartet era of the avengers worth reading as a scarlet witch and quicksilver fan? I usually skip 60s comics because the dialogue can be a bit rough

I would recommend at least skimming it for the scenes that Wanda and Pietro are in. It's only eleven issues (Avengers #16-27) so I think it's pretty manageable. I get it, though-- for modern comic readers, Silver Age writing and art can be a challenging taste to acquire, and a lot of the characters are just very different from how we know them today. For Wanda and Pietro, most of their backstory and lore just hadn't been invented yet, and the story beats we think of as iconic or defining didn't come into play until the late 70s and 80s.

I do believe that the original X-Men run (#4-11) and the Kooky Quartet era are important to understanding their time in the Brotherhood and how they came to join the Avengers, mostly because the later retellings of that story are never very faithful. That early run of Avengers also informs a lot of the twins' experiences with being public-facing heroes and, specifically, minorities on a public-facing team like the Avengers. These comics also provide a basis for how the twins' powers would be interpreted over the next decade or so.

Nothing else truly important happens to the twins during this era, but it is also the first time we really get to see them, like, showing their personalities or having agency. It's the first time they're really allowed to be fun, although, again, that 60s writing often makes Pietro and Clint seem unlikeable from a modern perspective-- and the politics and sinophobia in certain issues are hard to get past. Issue #24 is a tough read for that reason, but it's also the one I'd recommend most-- it's Wanda and Pietro's first encounter with Doctor Doom.

#avengers (1963)

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emmysinni · 7 months

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Why Hello There, Old Sport !! ^_^

emerson (or rose's) writer blog kiddie strangler intro V1! :)

about me, before writers

most importantly, starting with the name.

i am EmersonGem, or just Emerson! (or Marie)

now for regions/about me.

NOT stating age, taken, 🇯🇵🇲🇽, Atheist, 4'11. and i wish to be a doctor or surgeon, i am a artist and a editor, too

favorite music artists.

Soddiken, Cigarettes After Sex, Alex G, Cavetown, Mitski, Beabadoobee, Rio Romeo, Beach Bunny, Clario, Kero Kero Bonito, TEMPOREX, yungatita, Steve Lacy, Mr.Kitty (i dont support him) Sohodolls, Pastel Ghost, Eyedress, Marina, Toby Fox, Weezer, LUCI4, Odetari, Tally Hall, Lemon Demon, Bo Burnham, merrliee, Kikuo, SEGA SOUND TEAM, The Living Tombstone, Graham Kartna, Oliver Buckland, Fishcracks, Zkevin, Metaroom, Tupperwave, Tv Girl, Vacations, Salvia Path, Datfootdive, Goreshit (i don't support him)

and now, fandoms.

DSAF, dialtown, FNAF, deltarune, undertale, sonic the hedgehog (all games and comics), sonic.exe, JJK, homestuck, ranfren (i don't support the creator), little witch academia, mystic maze, days union, Soddiken song meanings, Deltarune: Chapter Rewritten, CRK, CR: OB, Phighting, TF2, Murder Drones, Regretevtor, cry of fear, sugary spire, pizza tower, cuphead, BATIM, vocaloid, valorant, south park and hellpark, overwatch, underverse, Laws Of Talos, Endzone, HJFONE, BFDI, BFB, TPOT, Eddsworld, and lastly mad father!

comfort characters.

matt virginia, dave miller, jack kennedy, steven stevenson, peter kennedy, roger jones, Uzi Doorman, Scout/Jeremy, Spamton G. Spamton, Jevil, Scampton The Great, Phone Guy, C.C (crying child) The Chimbley Sweep, Karl, Climber, Steffi, Tom, and lastly Boombox!

now, time for writers!

what i will write:

fluff, normal, yandere, platonic, doomed, angst !! :3 (and X reader)

what i won't write:

incest, nsfw, or even slightly suggestive

#writerscommunity #blog intro #dayshift at freddy's #writers blog

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classicmarvelera · 1 year

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The Most Epic Avengers/X-Men Story in 60 years

It’s hard to say which is the greatest Avengers story in the last 60 years. The same goes for X-Men

Both teams came into existence on July 2nd, 1963 thanks to Stan Lee and Jack Kirby. Both redefined the concept of a superhero team in the most Marvel way possible, and both have led to the creation of many new characters as well as comic book titles

And yet, if we have to choose a story that involves both teams that was published at a time when both were dominating the headlines in the comic book industry, only one epic stands out from the rest

But before we reveal our verdict, here’re some notable mentions in which Avengers & X-Men (core teams) crossed paths with each other:

Uncanny X-Men no. 9 (1964)

Uncanny X-Men no. 45/Avengers no. 53 (1968)

Secret Wars (1984)

Uncanny X-Men no. 190-191 (1985)

X-Men vs The Avengers (1987 Limited Series)

X-Men/Avengers Bloodties (1993, 30th Anniversary Crossover)

X-Men/Marvel Universe: Onslaught (1996)

X-Men vs The Avengers (2012)

The Verdict

In 2005, rising star Brian Michael Bendis after shaking much of the Marvel Universe with his Avengers: Disassembled and Secret War stories gave the readers an epic: House of M

The X-Men were riding high from Grant Morrison’s run while the Avengers were coming off the most shocking event in their history with some of their members being killed off for good by an out-of-control Scarlet Witch

This is a story that broke heroes from within. This is a story that shocked the comic book community to the core. There were no Magneto’s Acolytes involved, nor there was Doctor Doom or the Beyonder as the main antagonist(s). While the title had implied Magneto through the use and emphasis on the letter ‘M’, the reality as it unfolded by issue no. 8 was completely mind-blowing for it involved two of the oldest Avengers that were the cause of this ordeal

While Wanda’s madness has been explored before, this story took it to a whole new level. It changed the Marvel Universe (really) and it wounded our favorite heroes deeply, adding to their existing emotional traumas in the most unexpected ways possible

It is a story where pleasant dreams shroud the heartbreaking realities of our superheroes until they break free from Wanda’s hex/hypnosis

Get these Essential Reads

#House of M #Brian Michael Bendis #Olivier Coipel #Marvel Comics #Avengers #X-Men #Avengers 60th Anniversary #X-Men 60th Anniversary

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stuckybarton · 3 years

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What Has Been What Can Never Be VIII

Summary: Steve Rogers had returned to the past, hoping to move on from the chaos of the future. Leaving the woman that had loved him as someone more than just the persona of Captain America and his best friend that has always been with him until the end of the line. But as he had come to settle in this new life back in his own time, regret was somehow coming to follow. When he decides to return to the present, things have changed and you, the woman that had always promised to be there for him was now happy with his best friend as the two of you moved on with your lives without Steve Rogers in it. Characters: Bucky Barnes x Witch!Reader; Ex!Steve Rogers x Witch!Reader; Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter. Sam Wilson. Helmut Zemo. Words: 2,404 Warnings: None

SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST || Requests Are Open

VIII: For The Ones That Had Each Other

"I hate you so much."

Bucky Barnes wanted nothing more than to kill Sam Wilson from where he stood. But you stood close to the man, sharing a good laugh at Bucky's expense.

Getting back to Louisiana had been a piece of cake, with Oeznik handing each and every single one of you some trinkets and souvenir from your Sokovian travel, it also didn't miss his notice the old Butler's humor. An array of refrigerator magnets that you and Sam had been placing all over his Vibranium arm all throughout the day.

But he couldn't be annoyed for long.

Seeing the smile on your lips. It was different from the early days of your stay in Sokovia, from your visit to your family's crypt to the phone call, every thing else had been a chill affair for the both of you. How you had toured Sam and Bucky all throughout the familiar paths of your childhood. Both men had learn so much of you, more than they already did in the past. The memories you once thought you would never be allowed to remember again after all that you've endure. It was the closure you never truly had in your life. Sam and Bucky were there to witness it truly.

It was truly the peace Bucky had never realized you had finally have for yourself and for the past you now have moved on from. Both of you did. Bucky realized as much, both of you ready to finally move forward with your lives, in whatever direction the world might bring the two of you.

"I think it suits you, Man." Sam assured, the laughter nowhere near dying out from his lips and you had to practically support most of your weight onto Sam's side as you continued laughing. The things he does for love. "So where are you to love bird heading this time?" He inquired.

The momentary careless happiness in both of your features momentarily halted with the pending doom both of you had to face.

"New York." You had both found yourself answering.

It was once again this time of the month where the both of you had to go talk to your therapist in New York as an agreement to the amnesty given to the both of you by the government. Bucky as well as you were also placed in the most dangerous of missions if the needed arises was also in placed in the clause which neither of you truly complained about when all was said and done. It was a small price to pay after everything you had both done in your shared time with HYDRA all those years ago.

"Will the two of you be okay? Want me to tag along?" Sam inquired, quick to pick up the tense air that had replaced the humor from moments ago.

"I think we'll be fine." Bucky tried his best to reassure, but having known him for as long as he did, he perfectly knew that Sam could see past the façade he tries his best to cover everything that had become his life in the present. "I've got Y/N with me, I'm sure the Doctor would cut me some slack." He tried his best to return to the light hearted conversation but he knew what talking to the therapist was like especially with having the two of you share the same therapist of all things.

Coming to approach him, out of instinct, his arms were opened right for you. His arms, wrapped protectively around your body. Try as he might to protect you from the world, it doesn't always work that way. There were things, mentally that he could never truly save you from and you couldn't do the same for him. But you were both trying as best as you possibly could to make it work, to work through the hurdle that came with your minds and the trauma it had accumulated throughout the years.

"I just hope Dr. Raynor doesn't include in her file the fact that we're dating." You muttered, nuzzling your face onto his chest and he had realized then that this would change things with the Doctor and if neither of them would be careful about it, it might also change the way the Government sees the both of them. A liability for one another. "She's gonna have a field day once she finds out about me dating my ex's best friend." You snort somehow becoming more chill about the fact that Steve no longer held as much control of your life as it once did.

"Now I'm more worried about my time with her." He muttered realizing the question would turn into how he swooped in and was now dating his best friend's ex. That was not a conversation he wanted to be a part of.

"On second thought, I think I want to see this." Sam smirked.

"No." You and Bucky spoke in unison to which made Sam roll his eyes and complained how in the short amount of time you two became official you were both now sharing quirks and did not like it one bit.

"What has changed since the last time we talked?" Dr. Raynor still held a facade that you never really understood. Even in the months after the last battle against Thanos and the last of the court hearings, you never truly understood your therapist in a way that you usually did with the first one you had that Tony had recommended for you all those years ago.

She was clinical and had always saw through your lies and bullshit, as she would like to call it, but for the months of seeing her, you know she always meant well. The cold hard truth about Steve never coming back to you was one of the many reason you've finally come to move on from the life you had with the man all those years ago.

"I'm dating someone again." You responded, still unaware if Bucky had talked about you in his own session just before your own.

"I know, I was made aware by Barnes."

You blinked watching as her hands had now come to pick up her notepad and pen. A familiar actions from her since coming to know her. Every movement and every word that comes out of your mouth meant something and sometimes it's okay to find a clinical side of what you life has truly become in the past weeks.

"Went on a mini vacation to Sokovia with him and Sam, and we visited my family's crypt." You continued. "I've showed the boys around my hometown and fed them our Country's delicacies."

"On file you had also worked with John Walker." She explained and you tried your best to hide the eye roll but you couldn't control it, and the sound of her pen scribbling through her notepad irked you now.

"I don't want to talk about Walker." You muttered.

"But you are okay with working with the man."

"I'm not okay with working with Walker," You assured her, being reminded of the first of many mission you had been placed alongside the man. "I am simply--tolerating him."

For as long as you were bound to Ross, you had to keep peace as hard as it was to truly work alongside the infuriating man. It was all the resentment for a man that thought he was anything to Steve when he was nothing to him at all.

"Do you ever see Rogers in him?"

"Far from it." You scoffed. "He didn't deserve the shield or anything that came with the title of Captain America." You spoke, mind turning to wonder of the next time you will be needed by Ross and his cohorts.

"Do you see Rogers in Barnes then?" she inquired to which made you realize why she had made the question all of a sudden.

"I don't. That's why I made the risk with him." You spoke honestly now.

"Do you believe Steve would be okay with you getting involved with his best friend?"

"I don't care if he is okay or not with who I date. He had left me and I've moved on with the only man that never left no matter how much I've tried to push him away in the past."

"I never realized the gloves until now." You had pointed out as the both of you spent the rest of the day--exploring New York.

Bucky could only smile and his Vibranium glove-cladded hand held onto your own. Even with the months that had passed of finally being free from the confinements of his trigger words, and the sins of his past, there are just some things he can't truly move on from. The difference in his appendage being one of it. The symbol it has represented in the eyes of the people he had harmed in the past that wasn't even his own.

"We should get something to eat." You pointed out pulling Bucky along with you.

The smile in Bucky had only grown bigger now. He was surprised by your giddiness post-therapy. He had expected you to be withdrawn after the session. Maybe letting the doctor know about your relationship wasn't as bad as he had actually thought it to be. Allowing you to lead the way, the last place he would have ever expected you to bring the both of them was Izzy.

The memories of Yori and the truth that he had finally come to know about the death of his son. It still hurts him to be reminded of, but he was slowly making his peace with but it was a hard and far to complicated path he needs to make.

"James?"

What he didn't realize too was the fact that Leah is in for her shift. And the pointed look she gave as she caught sight of you made things a whole lot more awkward than it needs to be.

"You know her?" You inquired turning to face him.

"Sort-of." He didn't really know how he could explain to you the small little fact that they went out on one date that was made by the father of the man he had killed in the past. That's a little complicated thing to talk about during lunch.

"You alright if we eat here?" You inquired voice low to stop anyone from hearing especially Leah that had gotten back to work but her attention was still on the both of you.

"I think so." He shrugged, even with the hesitation slowly crawling through his system. "Come on." It was now his turn to pull you further inside the restaurant.

Sitting on the table, his hand rested on top of your thigh in small act of reassurance for your sake as much as it was for him. When Leah had once again made her way towards the both of you, the smile rested on her lips seeing the both of you.

"What can I get you two love birds?" She inquired.

"The usual." Bucky responds before turning his attention towards you, watching him. "Leah, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is Leah, me and a good friend use to eat here every Wednesday."

He watched you both shake your hand, but the smile never truly reached your eyes unlike Leah's who seemed genuinely happy for him by the looks of it. When she left the both of you to your own, he found himself cupping your cheeks, turning your gaze away from Leah's retreating form.

"She seems pretty." You spoke, eyes never meeting his even with your head turned to him.

"I can see someone prettier in front of me, Doll." He smirked realizing why the sudden shift in your mood. "We went out on one date, but that's it." He finally comes clean hoping that would be enough to reassure you.

When Leah had returned with your orders, the sound of the door had once again opened and it was like the fates were playing a cruel joke on him. Yori comes arriving, halting in his steps at the sight of him.

"You okay, James?" You found yourself asking as his eyes were still glued to the door.

"Yori." He whispers surprised as the man comes walking towards him and you.

"How are you doing?" He asked turning his gaze towards you now. "If I had known you had a girlfriend, I wouldn't have continued pushing you with Leah." He continued.

With teary eyes, he smiled and shook his head.

"We just started going out." He explains. "Yori, I'd like you to meet my girl, Y/N." He introduces watching as Yori comes to shake your hand even with the confusion still lingering in your features. "This is Yori Nakajima, my neighbor."

He had watched how your eyes widen in realization. Unlike Zemo, when you had read his booklet of names, he spoke about each and every single names inside of it, of the wrong doing you had done to them during his time as the Winter Soldier. It brought back the fact that what you didn't know was the fact that your own name was also in it, the last name you had written before finally coming to peace with what has happened in his life.

"Thank you, for always taking care of James for me, Mr. Nakajima."

"Yori." The older man corrects with a smile. "And I am glad, for you being there for him, after everything he's been through."

"He was there for me too." You assured the old man with a smile now. "We've have each other now, Yori. That is all that matters for the both of us."

Bucky knew as much, no matter what may come in their life, their would come a time that something or someone would come to stop what they had and he was sure to fight in whatever way he could if it means having you. It was all he knew, you and even Sam were the only piece of the normalcy he could still grasp onto and that, that was all that he truly cared for from now on. Nothing more and nothing less.

One day, when you were both alright, he would make good of the dream you had long ago. A white picket fence home, a husband, and eventually children that would be the two of you.

#bucky barnes series #steve rogers series #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x oc #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

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tuxedo, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: Your cat turns into a man. No, not, your cat was always a man and turned back into a man. Your actual cat turns into an actual man and neither you or your cat (man? cat-man?) have any idea why he's human now. Also, he's naked, so that’s a problem. Also, he’s kind of attractive. Yikes.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; Yoongi still thinks he’s a cat; mentions of smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral (choking on a dick, but not in a sexy way), doggy, spanking, wall-fucking, unintentional??? voyeurism); non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft slightly cocky Jeon Jungkook and you being mad horny for him, what’s new; breaking of the fourth wall; are YOU a furry? you decide

an anon asked for cat hybrid Yoongi, although instead this is some voodoo witch doctor shit, whoops yes, I do reference BT21, Bob Ross, the lady-pointing-to-the-cat-accusingly meme, list goes on... and there is a cameo of 2021 Seasons Greetings Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin XD

Your lungs were being crushed.

You were bundled in your duvet, wrapped like a mint-colored burrito, on your back, head nestled comfortably in your memory foam pillow. Warm, cozy, snuggly. All things considered, a comfortable position. So comfortable that you were blessedly asleep for many hours until your lungs started getting crushed.

You cracked one eye open.

A giant tuxedo fluffball was causing this slow and painful death.

“Get off.”

You glared with slitted eyes, voice cracking from sleep. The fluffball did not move. Velvety, pointed black ears flicked back and forth. The little pink nostrils flared a bit, breathing evenly and contentedly. At least one of you was. You grunted in irritation. The minty-green eyes opened, black slits for pupils.

“I’m going to die.”

Your cat meowed in your face.

“Shut the fuck up. Get off.”

He yawned.

You narrowed your eyes and lips into lines. Stared at your insufferable, not-so-subtle tuxedo cat that was killing his owner. How long had he and his seven-kilogram ass been sitting on your tits? Too long because your sternum was already aching. You rolled over and he gave you a disgruntled meow as he tumbled off. You pulled your arms out and gave him a soft scratch behind his ears before reaching around to his white belly and patting his chest. He started purring, rolling to his side, white sock-like paws sticking up.

“Ugh, my chest hurts, Shooks. You’re a dick.”

Your cat gave zero fucks.

You were still petting him. Sigh.

“I’m getting up,” you announced to no one except your cat.

You tugged yourself out of your comfy, mint-colored duvet and winced, rubbing your breastbone. Did you buy this bedding set because it reminded you of your cat’s eye color? Yes. Were you a crazy cat lady? Maybe. In your defense, you hadn’t meant to become a crazy cat lady. You were innocently walking on the street when the tuxedo-patterned cat started following you. A large cat with big minty eyes surrounded by black fur like black bangs. White snout and jaw, pink nose, and a raspy meow. The tuxedo pattern was pretty similar to an actual suit, with a white chest and black fur over its back and limbs. White, sock-like paws, on the bigger side. Cute pink toe beans too. At the time, he was skinny and dirty, no collar around his neck, but you could tell he was long-limbed. He had a cut on his right eye, caked with blood.

“You alright, little guy?”

The cat seemed to scoff at you disapprovingly, as if to say, do I seem like a little guy to you?

“I guess you’re not a little guy. You have an owner?”

The cat’s response was headbutting your calf.

You took him back to your apartment and then it was doomed.

Why was his name Shooks? Well, actually, your cat’s name was Shooky, and it was because you tried many names to get him to respond to you – including, but not limited to, “you little shit” – and he responded to none of them except Shooky. For some reason, Shooky made him turn his black-and-white face around and look at you.

Shooky it was.

The first encounter was cute, but after you had fed him and given him a few pats, you gave him a good, hard taste of reality. Shooky was very upset about getting a bath for the first time. There had been a lot of angry meowing, although thankfully he hadn’t swiped at you very much. As soon as you got mostly undressed and sat in the bath with him, he seemed to relent. Maybe it was because you closed the glass door and he couldn’t leave.

“Do you see how dirty you are? You need a bath.”

He gave you a disapproving meow.

“Look, I even bought pet shampoo and you’ll get treats after. Come on, you.”

He was very displeased.

In any case, Shooky was now your primary companion, a large, long-limbed, fluffy tuxedo cat, following you around as you brushed your teeth and made breakfast, his new black collar jingling with a tiny silver bell. Every morning, you handed him his dry food first – he chomped down immediately – and made yourself some breakfast as he ate. Somehow your life now revolved around him, spending time looking up the best cat food (without paying an arm and a leg, you weren’t a sugar momma), making sure he was brushed (his hair got everywhere), telling everyone you needed to get home because you couldn’t miss his dinnertime (if you were a second late opening the door, Shooky would start meowing very exaggeratedly, like he was dying, what a drama queen). Was he annoying? Yes. Was he the best cuddle buddy? Also, yes. Kind of like a boyfriend, but better, because Shooky didn’t talk back.

You arranged your small dishes on the table. Tofu. Eggs. Pickled squash. Just enough for one. You sat down, holding your bowl of steamed rice.

A tuxedo furball jumped onto the table, licking his chops.

“Look here, this isn’t for you. Shoo.”

He settled onto the tabletop and stared at you as you ate.

Sigh.

Live with a cat was pretty similar to life without one.

Except for that weird habit Shooky had of sitting on your bathroom rug when you got out of the shower, scaring the shit out of you the first time. You lived alone, so you didn’t really bother closing doors, but you considered changing that. But it was just a cat. Also, he walked in here of his own volition. Not your fault if his eyes were scarred.

Shooky was a normal cat, but also a weird cat.

He slept a lot. Normal. He bit his paws sometimes. Weird. You figured maybe it was his nails, so you learned to trim them and he seemed better about it, but sometimes when he was stressed, you would notice fur missing from his little white socks. A lot of things could stress a cat. The internet taught you that. You brought him toys and played with him, but mostly he seemed to want you to sit down so he could plant himself in your lap. This make life rather difficult, so you decided it was time to invest in Netflix so you could at least use your time wisely.

This was for your cat, remember.

Yes, binging shows on Netflix was for your cat.

The weirdest thing was…

Shooky was always stressed when you invited a man into your home.

Maybe he didn’t like men. Something in his past, maybe? Could be. Come to think of it, did you even like men? That was a question for another day, but in any case, your cat always gave you this accusing stare when you brought a guy over, no matter how nice the guy was, even if the guy petted him very gently. Shooky never attacked them. He just glared at you like you had betrayed him somehow. How could that be?

What a needy drama queen.

You figured, eh, it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t trying to sabotage your chances of finding true love and all that stuff.

Who are we kidding?

You’d settle for a simple good dicking.

Well, there was that one time.

That time you were in the middle of giving a guy a blowjob. It was going great. You were naked, he was naked, he had a tattooed arm – hot as fuck – and he was very vocally enjoying your tongue technology. Hey, you didn’t have many talents, but you had that going for you. Even if a guy was mildly apprehensive about banging you, once you got your mouth on his dick, it was game over. You mentally patted yourself on the back for doing such a good job.

Positive reinforcement, right?

Annnnnnnd then…

Your cat jumped onto your back and made you choke on his dick.

“Urk!”

“Oh, fu–”

All seven kilos right between your shoulder blades. Oof.

“Are you okay?” He was half-worried, half-laughing, and Shooky was climbing up your back, pressing onto your neck, one paw on the nape, trying to murder you by dick suffocation. It took both of you to lift you off the dick – sad – and Shooky left a few scratches on your neck, as if to communicate his distaste of your infidelity. The guy was really nice about it. Actually, he found it hilarious. You scowled at Shooky and he gave you that deadpan stare that all cats seemed to have. The rest of the night was hot and heavy like you wanted and you even eventually got to complete said blowjob, which brightened your spirits.

It was a little disorienting that your cat was watching you from his cat tree the entire time.

Creep.

Honestly, you would have kept dating that guy if he didn’t move to a different city. Sigh.

Eventually, you stopped bringing men over.

One, because Shooky. Two, because worldwide pandemic.

Sigh.

The night that changed everything was ordinary.

Too ordinary.

You were passed out on the couch, halfway into season six of American Horror Story, somewhat peeved because you wanted to watch the other seasons, but geez, season five had such a poor story and hard focus on gore that it slightly turned you off. That it was a lot, even for you. Season six was better, but slow. The first four seasons had really hooked you and the idea of them all being connected? Nutty. You wanted to watch all of it.

Idea of season five? Awesome.

Lady Gaga? Yeah, why not, you’d be seduced.

Execution? Eh… could be better.

Shooky hadn’t watched any of it. He just slept in your lap.

Subtitles really helped you out here. You didn’t understand how the English-speaking audience could hear the whispering parts, but maybe that was because your English was garbage. You could read better than listen.

At the moment, you weren’t reading shit.

You were half-tucked in a fuzzy black blanket with a tuxedo cat pattern. Did you see the tuxedo cat pattern and buy it immediately? Yes. Were you a crazy cat lady? Maybe. In any case, your head was cocked at an awkward angle on the couch cushion and your mouth was open, snoring away. Attractive. You were wearing mint-colored, striped pajamas, one arm hanging off the couch and the other on Shooky’s furry butt, because you had been petting him.

Netflix was doing that annoying thing where it was asking you if you were still watching or not.

You couldn’t respond.

Shooky was awake.

Your cat was staring at your laptop on your coffee table. It was open. An HDMI cable connected it to your television. Not a clean setup, but an effective one. Again, you lived alone. Who was going to judge you? Your tuxedo cat?

Pfft.

Your cat was awake.

He got off your lap and hopped to the coffee table, peering at your laptop. Then he did what any sensible cat would do.

He walked all over your keyboard.

Circling around and around, smashing all the buttons with his cute pink toe beans, looking for a comfortable spot before settling down and planting his fluffy body on top of it. Windows closed, tabs appeared, the volume got muted, your display settings got fucked, the usual.

The unusual part was that your cat was looking at the screen.

Your internet browser was open.

A video was playing on a mysterious website.

A handsome young man with a boxy smile was wearing a sienna floral dress shirt and sunglasses, oddly paired with flared violet pants. He was standing next to another young man with an angelic face who, for some reason, was wearing a pastel floral handkerchief around on his head and a white-and-navy tracksuit with black, red, and green stripes. They were standing in some weird set with a black tablecloth covered round table and a lavender crystal ball, crystal-like beaded curtains glinting in strangely colorful lighting.

There was no volume.

Your cat tilted his head at the screen, curious.

The man with the boxy smile was speaking excitedly, gesturing to the angelic-looking man who seemed to be in awe. A retro, old school graphic popped up, flowers surrounding a blocky orange and green serif font, mildly tacky but somehow endearing in its own way.

COULD WISHES REALLY BE GRANTED?

Your cat tilted his head the other way.

Your cat didn’t know Korean.

… Right?

Well, you did mostly speak to him in Korean. Maybe he was secretly fluent. He definitely knew, don’t fucking do that, because you would witness him doing the very thing you told him not to do right after you said it. Bastard. But you couldn’t bear witness to this now. You were knocked out on the couch.

Zzz.

Boxy-smile guy placed his fingers elegantly on his forehead, mock dismay on his features, acting as if he couldn’t believe the viewer’s skepticism. Angel-looking guy placed his hands in prayer position, the text now reading, I won’t believe you unless you prove it! Boxy-smile guy flourished to the camera, showing off his brilliant pearly-white smile, mouthing words unheard. Text appeared once more.

Make a wish, any wish!

Your cat closed his eyes and appeared to be asleep.

The video turned black and disappeared into purple sparkles.

Your internet browser unexpectedly closed.

You woke up with a painful stitch in your neck and Shooky nowhere to be found.

“Fuck…”

You tried to get up, but underestimated the cramp in your back and fell onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck!”

You blamed the pandemic for fucking up your sleep schedule. Also, getting old. Fuck getting old and being an adult. Time didn’t stop just because you didn’t go to work. Well, not true. You did go to work; your work was just different now. You were YouTube video editor, which meant you were mostly edited video game montages now instead of travel vlogs. The work was slower now. People were getting discouraged, taking breaks, because, you know.

Pandemic.

Sigh.

Anyway, not the point. You were grateful that your work was mostly internet and computer-based. Not everyone was so lucky. You were also grateful that you didn’t work in an industry that was too negatively affected by the pandemic. It had started off as a hobby, but then the creators you were helping unexpectedly blew up, needing your help more and more. You fell into it by accident, but that’s how life was. Happy little accidents. You couldn’t complain. As long as you had some income to feed your cat and you, that was enough.

Speaking of cat.

“Shooky?”

No meow.

Huh.

He normally would meow or trot over to you when called. He was weirdly affectionate like that.

You were still on the floor, on hands and knees, crick in your neck and back aching. Ah yes, age was just a number until your back pain flared up due to repeated nights of unintentionally falling asleep on the couch. Lovely. You stretched out your back with a groan and yawned, cracking your neck.

“FUCK!”

That hurt. Ugh, you really needed to stop sleeping on the sofa. You untangled yourself from your blanket and headed to the bathroom, rubbing your neck. You still didn’t see your fluffy, seven-kilogram, kind-of-an-ass tuxedo cat, but whatever. He had to be in the apartment. He couldn’t exactly leave. He was a cat. What was he going to do, grow legs and opposable thumbs?

Pfft.

You shoved your toothpaste-covered toothbrush in your mouth and began brushing your teeth. You hummed, trying to remember if you had any deadlines. Eh, they were on your Google calendar. You would check it after washing up. You spat and brushed for a few more minutes, thinking about nothing. This was nice. Sometimes it was nice to think about nothing. No major problems to address, simply a chill and routine morning.

Seemed sufficient.

You reached over to the spit cup and put some lukewarm water in it before taking your toothbrush out and sipping some water to gargle the minty suds out.

You heard a deep, raspy voice call your name.

“Hmm?”

You looked in the mirror.

Wait.

Your mouth was full of dirty toothpaste water, cheeks puffed out.

The voice called your name again, quietly.

Nervously.

Your eyes widened, staring into the mirror in shock.

A pale man was standing behind you, wearing your mint-colored duvet over his shoulders. Messy black hair to his rounded cheeks, dark brown cat-like eyes, small pink pout. His nose was a little red, as if he was cold. There was a black choker on his neck, with a silver bell. He was taller than you, and he looked very confused.

Also.

Pointed, velvety black ears on top of his head, white tufts of fur sticking out, flicking back and forth.

You spat all over your mirror in shock.

“Urk–!”

The man jerked back as you threw your head into the sink, hastily taking another cupful of water to rinse out your mouth because, WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON? Why was there a man in your apartment? With fucking cat ears? That moved? What kind of kinky shit was that? Were you dreaming? What the fuck?! You grabbed the hand towel from its hook and furiously wiped the dirty water off your mirror, completely convinced you were having sensory and auditory hallucinations. Did you drink last night? Accidentally buy groceries laced with LSD? Snorted three kilos of cocaine off a hooker? Who the fuck knows, but there was no fucking way that you let some fucking man in your home, because, one, pandemic and, two, Shooky–

You froze.

The pale man with black hair was still there, standing in the doorway of your bathroom, looking slightly disgusted, but also scared.

He said your name again. A question, almost like a raspy meow.

It was…

Familiar?

You violently wiped your bathroom mirror some more, nearly cracking the glass.

The man was still there, wearing your mint-colored duvet.

Slowly, slowly, you turned around to face this man, your neck cracking loudly, sending searing pain up the back of your head and reminding you that, nope, this is not a dream, and if it was, it was a very shitty dream because at least in a dream you shouldn’t actually feel pain. You looked up at this man, at his fluffy black bangs shading his dark attentive eyes and pale face, chewing on his lip, clutching your duvet around his body like a giant mint cloak.

The cat ears on his head twitched.

“Uh…”

You blinked at him, watching the ears.

“Do… I know you?”

He gave you an eerily recognizable deadpan stare. “I think you do.”

No way.

What?

No.

This wasn’t possible.

You’re drunk, high, or in purgatory.

(You did have sex before marriage.)

“S… Shooky?” you croaked.

The man took a deep breath and shook his head.

“Actually, my name is Min Yoongi.”

You blinked at him. “What? You have a name?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

Relief washed over you. “What do you mean, you guess? That means you’re a human being! With a birth certificate! Thank God, I thought you were my fucking cat for some reason, haha, that’s so fucking ridiculous–!” For some reason, the idea of a random stranger being in your home was much more comfortable to you than you damn cat becoming a human being, because for a hot second, you thought… but no, no, that’s stupid. “Speaking of ridiculous, these ears are crazy dude, they look almost real–”

You reached up and yanked on one of the velvety ears.

“Ow, what the fuck!”

Oh.

Oh my God.

OhmyfuckingGodthey’reattachedtohishead.

“What the FUCK?” you bellowed and a large pale hand shot out of the duvet to clamp one of his cat ears down, shrinking away from you.

“Stop yelling, please, I have sensitive hearing,” Yoongi winced, ticking his head, as if he was trying to flatten the other ear too, but couldn’t. His other hand was holding tightly to the mint duvet.

You saw a glimpse of a pale chest.

Your eyes widened into the size of saucepans.

His hand darted back into the duvet and clamped it shut from your bulging eyes, frowning. He quickly bundled himself up and straightened, thinning his mouth into a line. A few seconds passed. You gawked at him, jaw slack. The pale man sighed heavily.

“My name is Min Yoongi. My parents gave me that name. I don’t think I have a human birth certificate because I’m not a human. I am a cat. You used to call me Shooky, but Min Yoongi is my name, so I would appreciate it if you called me by my given name.”

Your jaw went even more slack.

“Cats… have names?” you squeaked.

Yoongi made a face at you. “Of course, we do. We are not savages.”

“B… But…” You frowned, shoulders falling. “You seemed to like the name Shooky…”

Yoongi shrugged his duvet-covered shoulders. “It sounded better than all the other names you suggested.”

You puffed your cheeks, placing your hands on your hips. “What was wrong with Tata? Or Chimmy? Or Cooky?”

Yoongi gave you a disapproving glare. “Well, perhaps in a parallel universe the name Shooky is somehow important to me. In any case, it was the best suggestion.”

You narrowed your eyes, frowning. “You little shit.”

“I especially disliked that one. Seemed a bit discriminating to our size difference…” He paused, looking down at you. “At the time anyway.”

Your hands fell, looking up at your cat. Er. Min Yoongi. “So, uh… Yoongi…?”

He tilted his head, peering curiously at you under his black bangs. “Hm?”

You pointed at him, gesturing up and down. “Why are you, uh… a man?”

He looked down at the duvet covering his body. You stared at your bedding wrapped around him. Why was he wearing it anyway? In fact, all you could see was a black choker with a silver bell. The mental lightning bolt suddenly hit you. Oh. Your neck began to heat. Your ears began to heat. Your whole face began to heat. Oh. Oh? Oh! Shooky – er, Yoongi? – whatever, your cat didn’t wear clothes. He only wore a collar… which meant…

It felt like your whole body was on fire with abrupt realization.

Yoongi looked up at your mint-pajama-wrapped, now tomato self still pointing at him.

“I don’t know why I’m a man.”

One of his eyebrows raised. Then Yoongi smirked.

An open-mouthed, amused smirk.

“And yes, I’m naked. Your clothes don’t fit me. I tried.”

Your cat, er, man? Cat-man? What even... never mind, Min Yoongi was sitting on your bed, still wrapped in your mint duvet like a key lime cake roll, waiting as you rummaged around in your dresser, searching for literally any piece of clothing that might possibly fit him. The problem was, you worked from home, so you didn't exactly own a plethora of different clothing options. Your daily wardrobe consisted of slinky black leggings...

"They're stretchy?" you suggested timidly.

Yoongi had blinked at you. "I don't think so."

"It could work?"

He pursed his lips together. "I think you're forgetting something."

You gave him a blank look. "Huh?"

Yoongi gave you his deadpan stare. "I believe you are well acquainted with human male genitalia."

Oh.

Right.

He had a dick.

You turned red and robotically shoved your leggings back into their place. A sudden thought flitted across your brain and you spun back to face him, blurting it out before filtering yourself.

"Hahaha, good thing I never got you fixed, eh?"

Yoongi blinked very, very slowly. It was hard to tell if he was annoyed, amused, or wanted to murder you. In conclusion, typical cat behavior.

"I'm not fond of the idea of castration, so I suppose so."

Awkward.

Your vet had suggested it, but since he had been an indoor cat and you weren't intending on getting another, you figured you wouldn't put him under the unnecessary surgery and it would help you avoid the cost. A little irresponsible? Maybe. But you were very careful not to leave the front door open and, so far, he hasn't had the chance to get some poor lady cat knocked up.

Unfortunately…

He knew you considered permanently removing his nuts. Yikes.

Sorry, Shooks. Er, Yoongi.

In any case!

The other half of your daily wardrobe was sweatshirts, but Yoongi's shoulders were too broad for them and he was too tall. Why was he so big anyway? Well, he wasn’t exactly big, just long-limbed. You guessed he was actually on the leaner side, judging from the way the duvet wrapped around him and the brief flash of long fingers, slim forearm, and toned chest. He had been a larger cat.

Seven kilos turned into... him?

You suddenly started and yanked open your underwear drawer, shuffling through it to get to the back and pull out a neatly folded dark gray blob.

"I have this–"

"No."

The response was so forceful and dismissive that you froze, the dark gray fabric unfurling in your loose grip. It was a large men's sweatshirt, soft, charcoal, slightly acid-wash, covered with white paint stains. Eggshell white, to be exact. The exact paint color of this very bedroom, because you had worn it to repaint over that original disgusting beige color.

"Why not?" you inquired, holding it up by the shoulders. "It'll fit you, for sure. It used to be..."

Yoongi kept his completely neutral expression trained on you as you reached your revelation, his dark eyes observing every detail of your body's reaction to the memory. Your grip on the sweatshirt tightened. You felt your cheeks and ears heat, pulse roaring in your ears.

Oh.

Er, right, so…

That one time that Shooky – no, Yoongi? – jumped on your back and made you choke on a dick? Yeah, that guy. Tattoo guy. Yeah, well, before that incident, tattoo guy was the friend of a friend who offered to help you paint your apartment because he had experience working construction – “helped my dad fix-up a house to resell for a couple months,” he had said with his disgustingly cute, cheeky grin, making you nod like an idiot and your pussy throb with his endearing adorableness – and you had moved all the furniture out so you two could get it done quickly.

You had to put your cat in the bathroom.

You didn’t want him to breathe in the fumes or get paint on his luscious fur. It was for his own good.

Tattoo guy had appeared in said charcoal sweatshirt, black ripped jeans, and the most attractive thighs in the whole damn universe, just out and about, giant holes exposing tan skin and taut muscle. Your eyes widened, frozen at your front door.

Oh yeah, he had paint rollers too. You hadn’t given a shit about those in that moment.

He had noticed you staring and laughed sheepishly. “Sorry, I just wore the ugliest pants I own. It might get messy, you know?”

No, tattoo guy. No one thought your pants were ugly.

You sure as hell didn’t.

“Oh, yeah, that’s why I wore this gross t-shirt,” you said absentmindedly, referring to your four-sizes-too-large, free t-shirt that had been chucked at your head while walking past your university common area. It was a hideous chanteuse with magenta writing, a color combination that absolutely deserved to go to hell, and could not even be saved by the quirky, stylish, thrift-savvy TIkTokers of today. It was the ugliest thing you owned, so you wore it to repaint your bedroom.

Now you regretted it.

Tattoo guy looked you up and down. He smirked under his long black hair.

“Your body still looks great though.”

“… Urk?”

Didn’t really matter that you couldn’t conjure a sexy response, because, clearly, tattoo guy had made his decision leagues before arriving here. Painting a bedroom? Oh, yeah, you did that, and with way too much sexual tension. A man should not be that flirty while holding two paint rollers and speed painting your walls. What were you supposed to do? You barely knew the guy. All you managed to do was make awkward small talk to get to know him better. Then he took off his sweatshirt.

“Wait, that’s illegal.”

He had smirked at you, spinning the paint roller in his hand, white t-shirt molded to his body. “Hm?”

You were being mildly disrespected, but also you were gawking at his tattooed right arm and his blindingly beautiful forearms. Cough, no. You didn’t have a thing for attractive forearms. Wasn’t like staring at this muscular pair was making you weak at the knees or anything. Okay, maybe. But you weren’t going to say it out loud. Tattoo guy ticked his chin below you, to the floor. Your job was to paint the little nooks at the corners, ceiling, and baseboards. You spent a whole lot of your job sneaking glances at him and getting caught.

Shit.

“You missed a spot.”

You whipped your head to the floor, craning your head to look for it. A paint roller appeared beside you, pointing to a small sliver for nasty beige. He had a clear, silvery voice.

“Right here.”

You frowned at it and raised your paintbrush in warning to the offensive beige, ready to strike.

“… Noona.”

You started and fell over.

You sputtered, legs tangled, oversized shirt flipping up, trying not to drop the paintbrush and drawing a fat streak across the unpainted wall. You shook your head roughly, clutching the handle of the brush, cool draft floating up your shirt.

Tattoo guy appeared above you, grinning, his front teeth slightly too large and giving him the appearance of a rambunctious bunny.

“You alright?”

You felt your neck and ears heat. No, you were not alright. Yes, you were older, but that didn’t… that wasn’t the time… You didn’t expect it, that’s all. You tried very hard not to look at his thighs. Or his face. Or his chest. Just didn’t look at him. Also, you were pretty sure you were flashing him and pretty fucking sure you didn’t give a shit.

You coughed awkwardly. “Yup, I’m good.”

Back to copious sexual tension complemented by paint fumes.

Once the first coat was down, you two stood in the center of the room, surrounded by the plastic drop cloth, him banishing a paint roller and you a paintbrush. Challenge complete and it didn’t take you very long. Nice.

“We have to let it dry and then we can paint another coat,” he was explaining.

“It looks fine like this.”

Tattoo guy clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Once it dries, it will look uneven. Trust me.”

You frowned. “Okay. How long should we wait?”

“Couple hours, at least.”

A couple hours? You frowned more. “What are we supposed to do until then?”

He didn’t reply. You turned your head to face him and tattoo guy was staring at you with a smile.

Uh oh.

He was spinning the paint roller with one hand. You felt your ears and neck heat. He switched from his left hand to his right, seamlessly. Incredibly sexy. Were the paint fumes getting to you? You gulped, awkwardly gesturing to the paintbrush.

“Let me just… put this down…”

You turned around and balanced your paintbrush in the paint tray, only to gasp as your felt something foamy roll down your back, covering you with the strong stench of paint. It stopped above the curve of your ass, unable to roll smoothly any longer.

“Hmm, can’t get past your juicy ass, noona,” he teased.

You spun around, cheeks flushed, sputtering.

No, no. You didn’t forget tattoo guy’s name. You remembered it, even now. Remembered saying it in multiple different ways, even.

“Jeon J-Jungkook!”

In surprise, streaks of paint in your hair, him smirking, dropping the paint roller on the other plastic tray and somehow not tipping it over, thank goodness, him walking up to you, taking the bottom of your paint-covered chanteuse university t-shirt, leaning down to whisper hotly against your lips.

“Ah, sorry, it seemed like you didn’t like that shirt very much,” he breathed, sending your brain into overdrive with the heat against your skin, his knuckles brushing your thighs. “You can wear my sweatshirt instead, if you like.”

Your eyes widened, staring at him in shock.

“J… Jungkook…”

In breathlessness, heart pounding in your chest, gaze locked with mischievous dark chocolate orbs, his teeth catching his lower lip, tiny mole underneath revealed.

“Yeah?”

Why was his voice so deep? The tiny tip of his pink tongue darted out, licking his lips enticingly.

“… Noona?”

This man was illegal.

Your hands darted down and gripped his, catching your lower lip in your teeth as well, matching his lip bite, seeing the eagerness growing in his eyes.

Someone should call the police. Or an ambulance.

You grinned, cocking an eyebrow. “I don’t want to wear anything around you.”

But not for you.

There was a very loud meow from your bathroom, but before Jungkook could ask, you yanked your shirt up and over your head. He gasped and instantly it was lips on lips, messy kisses and stumbling to the living room were your bed, dresser, nightstands, bookcase, knickknacks, everything scattered everywhere, but Jungkook and you were too busy yanking off clothes and getting frisky to give a shit.

Yikes.

You stared at Yoongi now, red from head to toe, clutching the dark gray sweatshirt. He rolled his eyes and looked away from you.

“I… washed it?” you offered weakly.

Yoongi’s dark brows raised from under his black bangs. “Mmm, you forget that I have quite keen hearing. I’m not deaf like you, human.”

The color drained from your face.

Well.

Maybe, just maybe, Jungkook got you to wear his dark gray sweatshirt, forcing you – respectfully, he called you noona, after all – to get on your hands and knees for him, then make you wait in said embarrassing position with his sweatshirt bunched around your neck – because, er, gravity – while he casually made you watch him roll the condom on, highly amused by your impatient glare, only to move away and slowly shove his dick inside your soaking wet pussy and spank your ass until you backed up into him enough times to make yourself cum on his stiff length without him moving his hips.

Respectfully, of course.

“Fuck, noona, that was so fucking hot…”

“Jungkook,” you gasped breathlessly, ass stinging in glorious pain. “F-Fuck me, please.”

He made you scream.

He fucked your hard, making the bed creak, pounding you so roughly into the mattress that your fingers curled into the mint sheets, and when you gasped that you were close, he fucking stopped, the damn sadist, causing you to slam your fists into the bed and buck back into his crotch, Jungkook chuckling at your desperation. In your haze of begging for Jungkook’s cock, you heard a judgmental meow from your bathroom, but before you could address it, Jungkook seemed to have accepted your pleading and began to thrust into you once more, making you lose your train of thought and all thoughts in general, except your dire need to orgasm.

Jungkook had made you moan for hours.

Right now, however, Yoongi’s sharp look was making you mute. You were so mortified that you swore your soul stood up and walked out of your body, too ashamed to be in Yoongi’s presence any longer.

“Mmm,” the dark-haired man mused absentmindedly, pointed ears flicking.

From spitting onto the mirror to mentioning his possible castration to remembering that you had locked Yoongi in the bathroom for hours to have mind-blowing sex with Jeon Jungkook under the guise of repainting your bedroom walls…

Too bad life doesn’t have an undo button.

You suddenly remembered Jungkook pushing you up against the bathroom door, your leg hooked around his waist, his cock plunging in and out of you, lips on your neck, and your wrists pinned to the door, rattling it as he fucked you, whispering against your skin.

“You sound so fucking sexy, make more sounds for me, I’ll fuck you as much as you want, fuck you until you can’t think, can’t move, just to hear you say my name over and over…”

“Jungkook… f-fuck, you f-feel so fucking good, o-oh, Jungkook…!”

He pulled his lips away from your neck and smirked in your face.

“Yeah… noona?”

Respectfully.

“Fuck!”

Your back arced against the bathroom door as you came, pussy throbbing and spasming, the top of your head touching the wood, gasping Jungkook’s name in ecstasy, slamming your wrists against the door, Jungkook moaning as he came inside you, cock jerking inside the condom and swelling it with his orgasm, lips crashing down on yours and you whining pathetically into his mouth as he sucked on your tongue roughly.

A quiet, disapproving meow below you.

A master yikes.

You deliberately shoved the dark gray blob back into your underwear drawer.

Yoongi pursed his lips.

“Why is it in your underwear drawer, anyway?”

You slowly closed it, the wood snapping as the drawer touched the dresser.

Silence.

A crow cawed in the distance.

“You know what, let me make a trip to the convenience store…” was your hollow reply as you mechanically walked out of your bedroom, followed by a mint duvet.

“Do you know what size I would be?” came the husky, amused chuckle behind you as you pawed around your apartment for your wallet, two masks, hand sanitizer.

“I’ll just… buy a variety…”

“Or you could measure.”

You heard a rustle and you whipped your head around, only to see Yoongi’s cocked eyebrow and a slight bit of his exposed shoulders, collarbones on display, silver bell jingling. He yanked it back up, frowning at you.

“Are you a pervert?”

“N… no!”

You jerked away and hastily hooked the masks on your ears, fumbling with your sneakers before declaring, “I will be right back!” And then you threw yourself out the door.

Yoongi sighed, finally releasing his hold on the duvet.

“Ugh, so stuffy…”

His long black tail whipped about.

The door suddenly jerked back open and you plucked your keys from the side dish.

Only to see Yoongi fully naked, sleek black tail whisking around, blinking at you.

He was naked.

Really naked.

Very, one hundred percent, naked.

The mint duvet was pooled around his legs on the ground and Min Yoongi, who was formerly your cat Shooky, was a fair-skinned, long-limbed, lean-bodied, very attractive tall man, with velvety black cat ears and tail and – urk! – completely intact human male genitalia. Your neck, ears, cheeks, chest, ancestors from generations long ago, all turned red in embarrassment. Once again, you soul completely left your body in pure mortification.

“D… Don’t leave!” you blurted, snapping the door closed.

Yoongi just stood there, sighing as he heard the door lock and a body bolt down the apartment building stairs.

“You didn’t even change out of your pajamas…” he muttered, picking up the duvet.

"I can't wear these."

It was a few hours later. Thankfully, when you arrived home with your purchases, your cat... man was asleep, wrapped like a mint cake roll in your duvet. You tried not to think about his naked body on your bed, therefore ending up thinking about his naked body on your bed.

"You need to wear pants! For..."

Dark eyebrows raised.

"Decency!"

After getting home, you had spent the next thirty minutes hand-washing a black t-shirt, black boxer briefs, and loose black pants that were definitely too short but it was the only size available that could fit that waist, so you had to make do. You put the other shirts and underwear in the washing machine, but you needed to wash at least one outfit and hang it to dry. You tried to use the hottest water your hands could handle to sterilize the clothing, wincing at the blistering heat.

You didn't know if Yoongi could get coronavirus but you weren't going to risk it.

Eventually you placed everything on the drying rack and positioned your space heater on them to dry them off.

Then you passed out on the couch. You deserved it, after working so hard.

Only to be woken up by Yoongi poking your shoulder roughly and telling you he couldn't wear the underwear and pants.

He was still holding the duvet around his body and your neck was still regretting every second of sleeping on the couch. Ow. Too much physical labor. Quarantine had turned you into a formless potato. You sat up halfway, wincing. Ugh, pain. You jabbed your finger at Yoongi, who gave you a displeased narrowing of his eyes.

"Put the pants on, you animal!"

Yoongi swept around the sofa, mint duvet and all, determined glint in his dark orbs, lips pursed in annoyance. You started, cracking your neck by accident, yelping in pain as you fell back against the couch.

Yoongi planted himself on top of you nimbly.

You froze.

Partly because you were shocked, but mostly because your neck seized a bit.

His legs were on either side of you, body still wrapped up, perfectly balanced despite the sudden leap, surveying you with a disapproving and discerning eye. The silver bell on his neck jingled with his movement. You could feel his calves against your knees.

His bare calves.

"Are you dumb?"

"What?" you croaked in response.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. "You always forget things."

You blinked at him, confused, neck heating. "What are you talking about?" you snapped impatiently.

"This."

Thump.

You felt something long and furry hit your leg. Your body almost jerked up in surprise, but Yoongi hissed at you, making you lurch back, somewhat stunned at how cat-like it sounded. It was definitely a warning. You were still in your pajamas, slightly thinner material than your usual clothes. It had been cold outside, but your everlasting embarrassment had kept you toasty warm.

Like it was now, because you realized your clothed outer thigh was touching his inner thigh.

His naked inner thigh.

You let out a noise between shock and confusion.

"Urk?"

The long, furry thing brushed against your legs as Yoongi watched you reach your slow realization.

"O-oh... Right. You have a tail..."

He grunted, thinning his eyes into slits. "Yes, because I am a cat."

Highly debatable at the moment, but you were too busy remembering your cat also had a human dick and nuts. Well, not also. Only had? Well. Maybe if you had a seco–

No. No, never mind that. Yeah.

Never.

Mind.

You gulped, trying to suppress the rising heat in your ears and failing. "I can sew?"

Yoongi tilted his head, nose wrinkling a bit. Then he got off you, circling around the couch. You sat up, neck still hurting, but the warmth of your embarrassment somehow helping. Yes, great, trading temporary physical pain for lifetime mental embarrassment, only for such moments to be remembered at the most inopportune times to throw you off guard.

Awesome.

You visibly cringed before standing up, seeing Yoongi's hand snake out and nab the boxer briefs, making them disappear into the duvet. You saw the fabric rustle and then the briefs reappeared, chucked at your face.

Your head snapped back at the force, arms flailing.

"Mmphf!"

"Should be about four or five centimeters. Make it quick. It's hot under here."

You yanked the underwear off your face, scowling. "I'm not your maid!"

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, black ears flicking. He was smirking at you. You narrowed your eyes. What was this guy so high and mighty for? If anything, he should be grateful that you even car–

"You're been cleaning up my literal shit for a few years now, so you are practically are my maid."

... Wait a second, he's right.

You growled and hauled yourself up.

An hour later, your cat was dressed.

Cat?

Man?

Whatever.

Min Yoongi was finally wearing clothes and not your duvet and your fingers stung like a bitch.

You ended up snipping a hole and using bias tape to seal off the raw edges. You didn’t own a sewing machine, so this was the next best thing you could think of without destroying your fingers by trying to imitate zig-zag stiches, although you ended up destroying your fingers anyway because you had to sew small, delicate stitches to attach the bias tape. The area was too high traffic to not reinforce.

Sigh.

“Please tell me you know how to use the bathroom by yourself from now on.”

Yoongi had raised an eyebrow.

“Of course. I’ve watched you enough times to know how to expel human excrement.”

Right. Because he was your cat. Don’t think about it too much. You were trying to take everything one thing at a time so you didn’t overwhelm yourself. Those were future-you problems. Why does he talk like that anyway? You didn’t even know how he knew Korean. Was it because you watched too much television? Yikes.

You rubbed your forehead, dismissing the discussion. “Good talk.”

You realized you would have to cut openings for his tail for all the underwear on the drying rack but, again, that was a future-you problem. Instead, you let him change in your bedroom and went to retrieve the laptop on your coffee table. Plugged it in and turned it on.

All your settings were wack.

“The fuck?” you muttered, resetting your display, volume, brightness, sigh, nearly everything. This only happened when a certain someone stepped on the keys when you weren’t looking. You raised your voice, still looking at the screen. “Did you fuck with my computer last night?”

“No. Oh, well, I did sleep on it,” Yoongi was saying as he stepped out of your bedroom. You growled in your chest, annoyed, but setting everything back into its place before opening your Google calendar. Nothing due immediately, thank god. “Er, maybe you shouldn’t…”

You looked up.

Oh.

Oh?

Oh!

Yoongi mussed his black hair, scratching at his velvety black ear. You noticed he didn’t have a set of human ears. Well, duh. That’d be weird. He was still wearing the black choker with the little silver bell on it. The t-shirt was nicely loose on his frame, the black standing out against his fair skin. The sweatpants were a little short on the ankle, the slim fit showing off his leanness. The sleek black tail swished back and forth.

He was… handsome.

Yoongi looked apprehensive, twisting his lips to one side. “Hmm.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

He shrugged. “Well, when I woke up as a human, I was cold, except for…” His hand ghosted towards his crotch. He pulled it away, waving it aside. “Mmm, never mind.”

You gave him a confused look and went back to your keyboard, typing away. Yoongi winced but you were too busy replying to an email to think too much about it.

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to inform you of the following.

Min Yoongi had woken up on the coffee table, fucking freezing because humans didn’t have fur, and because his nuts and dick were getting roasted by your overheating laptop keyboard.

Upon waking up, he had a mild mental breakdown as you continued snoring loudly and unceremoniously, before scurrying away to the warmest place he knew – your bed, where he claimed the duvet and tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.

Is this real life?

He had poked at various parts of his new body, trying to figure out if this was a dream or a horrific nightmare.

As we all know.

Life is a horrific nightmare, so indeed, this was real life.

You jumped as Yoongi slumped down on the sofa next to you, sticking his head and ears into your view, blocking the computer screen.

“I’m hungry.”

You gawked at him.

“What a-are you d-doing?” you sputtered.

“I’m hungry,” he repeated. He had a bit of a raspy, almost growly voice at times, reminding you of a cat’s meow. His meow, in fact.

You scooted away, neck heating. Yoongi followed, prodding you.

“Why are you like this?” you grumbled irritably, smacking his hand. Yoongi persisted, as if you did nothing at all.

“This is how I get your attention, because you humans will ignore me if I don’t.”

“You’re a human too!”

“No, I am a cat.”

“Hello?” You grabbed his hand and jabbed at his palm, pointing to his thumb. “Cats don’t have thumbs!”

Yoongi yanked his hand out, shockingly similar to how Shooky used to pull his paw out when you were massaging his little white socks and he was over it. You noticed his cuticles looked a bit dry and torn up. Lately, Shooky’s paws had been a little chewed up too. You frowned at it, tilting your head.

Yoongi stood up and his tail whacked you in the face.

“Ow!”

“Feed me.”

You scowled, rubbing your cheek. Yoongi stared down at you, face expressionless.

Okay, your cat might be a man now, but he was still a borderline asshole, so not much had changed.

“Fine.”

You both stared at the bowl of dry cat food.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“What am I supposed to do with all this cat food then? I just brought it last week!”

“That’s your problem.”

You threw up your hands and cooked you both some lunch.

This was too much.

You know what you did when it was too much?

You took a nap.

You had dishes to clean, underwear to make tail-holes for, a cat that was now a man, an existential crisis to address, but you know what? You took a fucking nap instead. You left Yoongi with your computer and Netflix and told him to do whatever as long as none of it involved him leaving the house.

Yoongi had snorted. “What do I need to go out there for?”

“Awesome. I’m taking a nap.”

And you passed out.

Only to wake up groggily because your lungs were being crushed.

Actually no, it kind of felt like your whole torso was being crushed.

“Urk…!”

You fought with your sleepiness, somehow worse off than you had been before the nap, scrunching up your face ad blinking blearily. Head on memory foam pillow, check. Back on soft mattress, check. Black hair with sleek cat ears and pale face pressed on your chest? Check.

What, wait?

“Gah!”

You lurched and the head grunted, shoulders solidly pinning you down. He was under the mint-colored duvet. Yoongi, your cat that was now a man, was under the duvet.

UNDER THE DUVET.

“Stop yelling. Is that all you humans do? Yell?”

“Why are you – what are you doing here?” you hissed shrilly, trying to wiggle out from under him, but it was impossible. Yoongi was far too big now for you to throw him off.

“Sleeping, obviously,” he grumbled. “Or I was, until you started shouting.”

“Yes, but this is my bed,” you emphasized, realizing you could move your hands so you grabbed him by the waist, fingers grasping the black jersey fabric. You pressed inwards, hands molding to his sides.

Yoongi raised his head, squinting down at you.

You froze.

An oddly familiar gaze of accusation and uncaring. His eyes were dark brown, not the recognizable mint, but the effect was the same. Pink lips upturned, slightly annoyed.

And.

You suddenly remembered he was a man.

A man who was pressed down against you, long legs around your legs, broad chest to your chest, and shockingly attractive for someone who used to be a cat.

“I sleep in your bed all the time. What’s the difference?” Yoongi muttered.

What’s the difference?

The difference???

You’re a man!

A HOT MAN!!!

You struggled to find words, completely entranced by how close Yoongi’s face was to yours, watching his ears adjust slightly to pick up all the small sounds around him. You opened your mouth and it only made a tiny squeak. The pressure on your chest was becoming unbearable. You were so shocked that you completely forgot that you were still dying. You cleared your throat as Yoongi looked increasingly displeased.

“You… You used to be over the duvet…”

Yoongi yawned, nodding a little. “Yes, but it’s colder now. No more fur. I don’t know how you humans survive. Must be why you buy these warm things.”

Your hands were still on his waist. You pulled them away quickly and Yoongi frowned.

“Y-Yeah, but… you weigh a lot more now…” you croaked. “Can’t… breathe…”

Yoongi sighed heavily, as if this was a great disappointment. He slid off you.

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true.”

He nestled close to you and you still stunned, pin-straight body.

“Guess it’ll have to be like this instead from now on.”

Like this?

From now on?

Oh. Oh no.

Yoongi’s velvety, pointed ear flicked against your cheek, a low hum resounding in his chest.

part ii

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years

Text

Esoteric.

Witch!Izuku Midoriya X Fem!Reader

Summary: What was a witch, exactly? Someone who casts spells? Dabbled in medicine? Fought in battles? You didn’t know. That was, until you met one.

WARNINGS!: Soft!Dom!Izuku, Face-sitting, Fingering, Potion-play

Category: Smut

Word Count: 7.3k (more than half is like.. pure smut..)

A/N: The final day of the Izumonth Collab!

P.S. I really love Witch!Izuku, idk if you can tell,,, Also, I made the witch!collage above! ‘Tis just to suck you into the mood. And sorry this was.. a bit late.. heheh,,,

Just To Clarify:

You’re both consenting adults

Witches, though actually fairly rare, are seen as common beings

Witches aren’t human

Fantasy-ish au!

Tag List:

@coupsieddori @desia2 @strwbrry-lia @my-bnha-things

Every castle has a witch.

It’s been that way for as long as you, or anyone else, could remember.

It was normal.

Mundane to some.

Just something you’d hear about time and time again.

They were workers, just like you.

But yet, that never stopped your sense of wonder.

They never were in plain sight, not for a peasant such as yourself, anyway.

It always brought up so many questions whenever you’d stop to think about it.

What did they look like?

Were they nice, or wicked?

How did their magic work?

What did they wear?

Depending on the kingdom, most witches were treated like royalty, especially those who worked in castles.

Of course, how could someone so powerful not have such a title?

It made you question if it was given out of fear, or respect.

It wasn’t until you met the witch of Thidel castle, the ever-so-generous Izuku Midoriya, that your questions were all willingly answered.

You truly weren’t anticipating meeting him during such a catastrophe of a day. Looking back, it was quite embarrassing.

You were the baker’s assistant, tasked with making the batter to elaborate sweets for the King’s ball that evening.

The flour was freshly ground from the mill, the vanilla was as pure as a white daisy, the sugar ever-so-sweet, eggs fetched that morning, everything was perfect.

In fact, everything was running all nice and smoothly, until the King decided to ask for triple the amount of baked goods he had originally requested.

Not only did that mean running to town and back in shoes already falling apart, but that also meant stirring and stirring and stirring until it felt as if your arms were on fire and about to melt off.

You were covered in ingredients and sweat, the other bakers and assistants were running around, spilling things on each other, and making large messes as they pulled their hair out to get everything done on time.

It was chaos.

And that’s when he showed up.

You forgot what he was originally there for, herbs, perhaps?

Batter smudged on your cheek, you were carrying a large sack of flour to the mixing station when the door opened.

You slipped comedically on an egg that had fallen on the floor, and of course, you had to slam into this sudden brick wall of a man.

White powder flew everywhere, and the clock stopped in your head as you watched in horror as the last bag of flour you had was just about to spill all over the dirty cobblestone.

That’s when you saw it for the first time.

Magic.

He had simply flicked his wrist and all of the flour was back in its bag, and such a high ranking individual was on his knees, sputtering apologies to you.

To you, of all people.

A lowly peasant.

It felt unreal.

But that was how you met him.

He looked up and the first image he had of you forever imprinted in his head was wild (H/C) hair coated in sweat and flour, cheeks smudged with chocolate and dried batter, eyes wide with panic, and cheeks a burning red.

He never let you live it down, the bastard.

That night at the ball, you met him again. He had the gall to note how you cleaned up fast, all while sheepishly smiling at you like you were the only girl in the room.

You wanted to punch him at the time. Or die of embarrassment. He was still the witch after all, and never before had someone so high class spoken to you before. You were filled with so many emotions that night, you were sure you were going to throw up.

Instead, you smiled, offered him a pastry, and walked away.

He just had to follow you, though.

His reason being, “I was looking for some entertainment at such a boring event.”

It had made you laugh, as IF you were any entertainment. From then on, though, after having spent an entire night chatting the time away, he was as hooked on you as you were with him.

Nowadays, you got to frequent his studies often.

A privilege not many had, as apparently- witches were quite stubborn with letting people into their sanctuary and touching their things.

Perhaps it was a possessive trait of theirs, one that kept them from misplacing important potions, books, and ingredients, but nevertheless you were absolutely honored to be allowed somewhere so.. otherworldly.

The King and his youngest son were the only ones besides yourself allowed in.

But stepping inside would always be a slap to the face, no matter how many times you actually did enter.

It wasn’t exactly clear to you how he did it, or how the witch before him did it, but the small study tucked away on the east wing of the castle wasn’t a small study at all.

The old, heavy brown door was signed with words of a language unknown to you and others, the hinges creaking ever so slightly as you pulled it open, only to be met with a two-story home inside.

Your nose was always immediately hit with the earthy scent of rain and plants, no doubt from the plethora of the heavenly greens hanging about the place, glowing orbs of light hovering near the ones doomed to never touch true sunlight.

The place was cluttered yet neat, parchments piling up in one corner, yet another where they laid organized.

It was almost like a different world crafted by steady and loving hands.

Old maps were tacked to one of the walls, scribbled writing and red circles pointing out certain areas of the land beyond the one you knew.

Witches apparently had their own realm, or at least, “a pocket of Earth hidden away from humans by magic”, as Izuku had thoughtfully explained one night as a thunderstorm raged on outside.

Old books smelling of age are scattered about, the large bookshelf barely able to contain them all.

Candles lit by a green flame surround a large wooden table, herbs such as chamomile, ginger, ginseng, valerian, lavender, and saffron are neatly placed by a bowl, wrapped in bundles. Clearly, he was going to try and make some more anti-depressant mixture for the prince again.

He was more of a naturalist when it came to the sick, unless worse came to worse.

He was essentially a glorified doctor who was far more knowledgeable on plants rather than bone structure and types of sickness.

He was a sweetheart who helped all he could.

Hell, he was even taken to some battles as a last defense.

Despite looking so innocent, with his baby fat still hugging his cheeks and freckles splattered all about, the definition of youth, he was quite powerful.

Scarily so.

You had heard hushed whispers from fellow servants about how he had taken down armies alone multiple times before, coming back with nothing but burns and a broken bone or two.

He was terrifying to those who didnt take a mere second to glance at him.

But those who did were greeted with nothing but a warm smile and the fleeting wave of a busy man.

It was a mystery how you had managed to capture his undivided attention, enough so that he had made you his, the plain-looking bracelet made from leather string holding an emerald sealed with magic signifying that.

You were untouchable.

Once gutted with fear, you walked the polished grounds of the castle freely.

After all, not even a King would so much as dare to harm witches beloved, lest he wanted to be burned alive by immortal flames and sent to the ninth level of hell.

A level solely made by strong users of the past, the ones who carved the road for witchery, having bent time itself to do so.

Truly terrifying how powerful they could be, but yet it was so mystifying.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t spent nights wide awake listening to him ramble about their history, about how they came to be and how they flourished.

They didn’t start off as human-like creatures, they started off as a ball of magical light in a land filled with nothing.

It was said that witches built the Earth from the ground up until greed overtook the lands and the humans overpopulated them.

And yet, they work harmoniously together.

Humans fearful of their power, and witches just naturally seeking to help people and continue their craft in harmony with all those who share the lands they grew from scratch.

It truly was a peaceful existence they led, you couldn’t help but admire it.

Just like you always have.

Pulling the door shut, it locked behind you as you stepped over some paper with doodles, knowing better than to mess with his disorganized things without him in the room to see it.

Speaking of, you were asked here this evening, something about wanting to try out a new potion he had made.

He was always making new things, an inventor of sorts, but never one to have you as a test subject.

Of course, it piqued your curiosity and had you quickly cleaning up the mess you had made in the kitchen when the day was officially over just to get here as fast as you could.

The large window covered in vines holding a small couch beneath it glistened with the light of a crescent moon, casting the room lit with an array of colors in a cool glow.

Smoke from the candles blurred the light, only to collide with the wooden floor above them.

Humming, you grabbed an orb sitting on a side table, holding it in the moonbeams so it would absorb its brightness. A candlestick of sorts made from magic. You weren’t going to risk going into complete darkness again.

He was obviously not in his work area, so he was probably upstairs.

And so, as quietly as you could, you crept up the old stairs, holding your breath and biting your lip whenever you came to a creaky step. You wanted to scare him, or at the very least surprise him

He was so easy to scare, and he always made the cutest of noises when you did it.

It was hard not to try everytime you were given the chance.

Once you made it to the top, fingers clasped tightly around the carved wooden railing, you looked around the darkened hallway, searching for the room he’s most likely to be in.

None of them had any lights on, which was eerily odd.

He never was much a fan of complete darkness.

It only raised questions as to if he wasn’t here yet, or if he was leaving you high and dry.

No, he would never do such a thing. Perhaps you’re early?

Chewing on your thumbnail, you stood dead at the top of the stairs, waiting for a sign that he was here.

“BOO!”

“ARGGHH!” you shrieked, jumping away from the noise only to have your back slammed against the wall.

Horrified, you snapped your head to the direction of the noise, only to find a giddy Izuku covering his mouth with a leather-gloved hand, holding away his giggles.

Huffing, you placed a hand on your heart, ignoring the laughs that seeped out of him.

“Geeze, you scared me!” You chided, glaring up into his playful green eyes.

“Oh, like you weren’t trying to do the same to me just now.”

Laughing still, he bent down in front of you, offering you a hand to help you up.

Ever the gentleman.

Placing your palm into his own, he easily pulled you up to your feet, holding you against his muscular chest in a welcoming hug, to which you eagerly returned, arms wrapping around his slender waist.

Though you didn’t know the common body type of a witch, you had to admit, he was certainly buff. Not that you minded.

He could easily throw you over his broad shoulder, and you loved it.

Completely defenseless and vulnerable.

Oh, how sweet it was to trust fully in someone.

His foreign clothes were soaked in his familiar thick scent, the smell of the forest after it had just rained, dewdrops in the early morning sun, a hint of pine, and his own natural musk that always had your head spinning. He tends to travel the forests in the kingdom often, collecting natural herbs and stones he found interesting.

He had jars and jars of rocks and stones, sometimes cracking them open to reveal crystals tucked away inside. He’d always make little trinkets out of them, giving them to people he deemed as friends as a sign of gratitude. You only had one, made from the rarest crystal he had ever found, taaffeite.

“So, why did you need me?” You mumbled against his chest, cheek rubbing against his familiar warmth.

“Firstly, I always need you.” The sap.

“Mhmm..” you hummed out, letting him pull away and grab your hand, taking the glowing orb and tossing it up and down as he led you down the corridor.

“Secondly,” he trailed off, leaving the orb to float in the air as he unlocked his bedroom door, pulling you inside.

“It’s a bit of a personal thing I can only trust you with testing.”

Smiling to yourself, you sat down on the edge of his large bed, running your fingers over the soft wool that made up his thick comforter.

Never one to use dead animal pelts.

“Is that so?” Your eyes naturally follow his being as he walks around the room, shuffling through different materials before snapping his fingers to light the stone fireplace off on the other side of the room, providing more light, as well as warmth, so he could see where he was going and not trip on the books scattered across the floor.

He didn’t like the windows in his bedroom open at night.

“Y-yes..” he stuttered, fumbling around with a few glass jars on his desk, muttering to himself as he examines the label on each one. Seemingly finding what he was looking for, he turned back to you, proudly showing that he had found it before making his way back to the bed.

“What is that for?” Curious, your fingers brushed against the cool glass containing the shimmering magenta liquid as he sat beside you on the bed, mattress dipping enough from his weight that your sides knocked together.

“A few weeks ago, Shōto had asked a familiar question, if I possessed the ability to make every potion out there. Of course I- I can’t exactly, but I’ve enough skill to make some rather.. exotic potions. He questioned if I ever tried something different than just potions to heal the sick or offer beauty, and I haven’t. I don’t know why, but realizing that upset me. As if my skill set was limited to just some average joe healer,”

“Izuku..”

“So for a while now, I’ve been branching out. Trying different types of potions and having him as the tester.”

“Is that why he’s been acting different these days?”

“Precisely. I’m just lucky I haven’t gotten in trouble for turning him into a frog yet..” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his head as you took the glass from him to ogle it.

“So what is this then?”

“Um..” Embarrassment was creeping up his neck and resting on his cheeks as he averted his shy eyes, “I have a hunch of what it might do. But.. secret?”

You pout at him, “Shouldn’t I know what this is?”

“You’ll know soon! I promise it won’t harm you, darling.” Leaning down, he pecks a kiss on your cheek, large arm wrapping around your waist to pull you into a side hug.

Taking the glass from your hands, he pulled the cork out, glittery, pink mist floating out like smoke from a blown-out candle.

“So, what do you say? Will you try it?” It was almost as if he was giving you no option other than yes with those big puppy eyes of his staring into your soul.

Licking your lips, an action his eyes followed, you gulped the nervousness away.

What had you to fear? This was Izuku after all. Had he ever done you harm? Absolutely not.

You had no reason not to trust the man who held your heart.

“Alright.”

Joy lit up his face, smiling so widely his eyes crinkled.

Huffing out a laugh, you took the bottle from him again, curiously sniffing its fragrance.

“Chocolate and.. maca?” The scent was certainly familiarly tasty, having worked with the foods before, being a baker. Judging how the liquid didn’t resemble them at all, it was off-putting. How had he managed to trap such a delicate smell inside?

“Mhm! That’s right! Apparently, when made, the potion takes on a heavenly smell. Most are usually bitter.”

“Ahh..” Trailing off you eyed it up one last time before finally bringing it to your lips, a shiver running down your spine at just how cold the glass still was, despite being in a warm room.

Tilting the glass up, the liquid glimmering in the light of the fire traveled down the shoot, pouring into your awaiting mouth, feeling as if you were swallowing a runny syrup.

It had the slightest hint of sugar and cinnamon to its flavor, but nothing else. How odd.

Gulping it all down just to get it over with, your eyes that unknowingly closed fluttered open as he pulled the glass away.

Feeling perfectly fine, you stared up at him with confusion, about to speak before his lips cut you off, tongue poking out to lick the renaming liquid from the corner of your mouth.

The clink of the bottle being set down echoed around the room before his gloved palm delicately cupped your cheek, tilting your head as to deepen the kiss.

His tongue eagerly explored the wet cavern of your mouth, as if he was drinking the little essence from his own creation left over.

Pulling away with a wet pop, his forehead rested against yours, mesmerizing green eyes staring softly into your own, waiting.

Waiting for what was what you didn’t know, perhaps for the potion to take effect.

You were eager to find out just what it was, but you had a semblance of a guess considering the position you found yourself in.

“How do you feel?” he whispered breathlessly against your parted lips.

Just as you were about to reply, your words got caught in your throat as your body began to heat up in a familiar way.

“I..” You pant, grip on his cotton shirt tightening as your gut suddenly twisted with a burning need for HIM.

Your (E/C) eyes glaze over with lust in front of his own, pupils dilating as your body began to shake, whimpers escaping your throat.

Thighs rubbing together to offer friction you didn’t know you desperately craved until now, you looked at him helplessly, so close to falling apart if it weren’t for his large hand on the small of your back holding you close to his steady figure.

“I-I feel hot.. Izuku..”

You whined, chewing at your lip as you wiggled beneath his excited stare.

“Good.”

Suddenly, his lips connected with yours once more, drawing a stuttered moan from your throat at the contact you unknowingly began to crave more and more as your lips connected again and again.

You clung to him like a koala, kissing him fervently like you would never be able to again, desperate to have his undivided attention.

Hands sliding to your hips, he pulled you onto his lap, legs hugging his own as hot breaths mingled together with the wet sound of kisses.

“Ah..!” You squeaked against him, your hips involuntarily grinding down onto his crotch, greedily searching for the pleasure your body desperately craved.

“M-mmm.. Izu.. I-” Your apology was cut off with a nip to your neck, “Don’t apologize,” he scolded. Grip still on your hips, he pulled you down rougher against his hardening dick, his hips thrusting up to meet your own, eliciting a sharp cry from your being as your head threw back at the sudden pressure where you craved it most.

He was quick to chase your lips, dragging you back into your heated makeout, swallowing every moan you let out as you both humped each other like horny dogs, the eagerness from him only adding to the pool of moisture leaking out of your body.

The button on his trousers was rubbing deliciously against your clothed clit, making your hips stutter every so often as you fought to maintain that hard surface.

Saliva began to drip down the side of your mouth from the intense kissing, but you hadn’t a care in the world.

No, your mind was too fogged to even think about it.

All you craved was him.

Him.

You yearned for him like he’d been gone a decade, and your body acted on it in a way you were typically shy about.

Biting your lip, he pulled away from the kiss, dragging a whine of protest from you before he hushes you by licking the outer shell of your ear, breath fanning across it only adding to the tingles of excitement shooting down your arched spine. “Hush,” he commanded, and as if you couldn’t disobey him, your words of protest died on your tongue, leaving only a parted mouth and heavy breaths.

Licking down the column of your neck, nose brushing against you, he searched for that familiar sweet spot on you, teeth grazing your flesh.

Still grinding on his hard cock covered by pants, a wet spot no doubt leaking past the underwear you wore beneath your hiked up skirt and onto him, you gasp once he found the place he was looking for.

Smirking, he nibble gently, holding you still as you began to wiggle once more.

Your head tilted to the side to give him more room as he sucked on your skin, teeth repeatedly nibbling at your sensitive flesh. Biting down harshly, you cried out with pain and pleasure, hips grinding down so hard onto him he groaned, the vibration making your heart jump in your throat.

“A-ahh… hnng.!” Moans poured salaciously past your thoroughly kissed lips, holding onto him for dear life as he controlled your being with every fiber of his own.

A button on your blouse popped open, and your foggy gaze traveled down just to see his fingers expertly undoing each one without looking, letting your bare breasts bounce out above your corset.

Not giving you a second to cover yourself out of embarrassment, his large hand cupped one of your tits, massaging it gently just to feel the soft flesh as your chin rested against his grounding shoulder, small moans now directly in his awaiting ear.

“You’re such a good girl, (Y/N).” He praised, eyes filled with nothing but love as he got to watch your unusually heated body search for the pleasure it craved.

You were usually so shy in bed, but with this potion pumping through your veins, he hoped it’d help give you the confidence boost you needed.

Though, that wasn’t the only thing it did.

He was filled with anticipation, if his throbbing member was anything to go by.

Thumb circling around your cute, perky nipple, he took the bud between his thumb and forefinger, pulling gently and rolling it between them, dragging high pitched whines from you.

You couldn’t help but pull away from him again, body constantly shifting from the delicious pleasure you were being given.

Fully pulling your blouse off, he left your chest completely bare, giving him the chance to dip his head down and latch onto the opposite nipple, lathering it in attention with his warm muscle, sucking softly and continuously rolling your other nipple with his hand.

It left you craving more, fingers threading through his messy green curls, pulling as to not lose yourself, only eliciting yet another deep groan that vibrated on your skin.

Feeling yourself slowly start to come undone, you desperately ground against him, pants becoming high pitched and moans being louder.

He could tell you were getting close, and from grinding alone no less, it made him feel so damn good to know he could get you to come purely from grinding.

But he didn’t want you to cum like this.

Certainly not.

And so, he fell back on his back dragging you with him as his lips found yours again.

Gripping at the hem of your skirt, he yanked it down, pulling it off your legs. Using a little handy magic, he effortlessly pulled your own shoes off, already working your underwear down your quivering thighs, eyes zeroed in on the drip of wetness attaching your core to them for a split second before they were across the other side of the room.

Corsets were always his worst nightmare.

He couldnt think too clearly to untie the knot in the back as your now bare crotch rubbed against his own, so without thinking, he ripped it off, the bare display of strength having you keening against him.

“Princess,” he whispered against your lips, dragging your hips upwards, “please, sit on my face.”

How vulgar of him to say, with a smile no less, but nonetheless it scent a throb of want to your stomach, and you found yourself, once again, unable to disobey him.

Your body burned red from embarrassment as you crawled up his own still fully clothed one, but you weren’t given the chance to dwell on it before he moved your hips directly over his face, tongue poking out to lap at your dripping folds.

“Gaah..!” You cried, fingers digging into the blanket beneath him as your hips once again helplessly sought the pleasure you craved, unafraid to press down against him.

Your juices tasted so sweet, he eagerly lapped at you like a dog deprived of water.

He had to hold you still against his face, drinking in the image of your breasts jiggling like jelly with every shuttered breath you took, head flung back and eyes shut tight as you focused purely on the way the flat of his tongue licked you up like a sugary treat.

He couldn’t help but occasionally press a kiss against your sobbing flesh, teasingly avoiding your clit begging for attention each time you moved against his mouth.

Your cries of pleasure filled the room, only sending his mind into a state of hunger, wanting to drag every noise out of you he could, along with the loud licking that caused your essence to drip down his chin.

His aching cock was straining against the flimsy button of his pants, desperate to be released and buried deep inside your soul-sucking pussy again.

Tongue dipping inside you and lips pressing against your sensitive, pink labia, he ate you out with earnest, squeezing your hips tightly with his fingers as he fought to control himself from shoving you to the blankets and fucking you raw without finishing his dessert first.

A choked sob tore from your throat with his lips finally encased your puffy clit, the tip of his tongue tracing around the bundle of nerves before flattening his tongue against it.

Your hips bucked involuntarily against his face, pressing him harder against you just so you could cry out his name like a sinful prayer.

His heart was full of love for you as he observed your reaction did everything blissful he did.

You were in heaven, walking on clouds as wet squelches from your own body surrounded your ears.

“Z-Zuku..!” You cried as he sucked on your clit like candy, enjoying the rough treatment. The tip of his tongue traced his name possessively over your button, marking you as his forevermore, silently vowing to never let another man do the same.

“I-I’m close..!” You cried, tears of pleasure falling down your flushed cheeks, dripping onto the thighs squeezing his head like warm earmuffs.

He hummed against you, dragging his tongue across the expanse of your womanhood before enclosing around your clit again, lathering it in the attention you needed to be pulled over the edge.

Your thighs clenched around his head, his hair tickling you, body stilling as you screamed out in pleasure, back arching and giving him a lovely view of your demise.

You came on his tongue, the stimulation he gave you throughout your orgasm sending you higher and higher in that clouded head of yours.

When you finally came down and slumped forward, catching your breath, he licked up the mess you made, pulling away from your lower lips and running a tongue over his own to greedily savor your delectable taste.

Placing you off to the side, giving you a second to calm down,, he hurriedly shuffled out of his clothing, throwing his cloak, gloves, and various other things on his person to the floor, kicking his boots off that landed with a heavy thump, leaving his underwear on as he crawled over on top of you.

Dazed, you stared deliriously up at him, a bashful smile on your lips, watching as he wipes your juices away with the back of his wrist before licking it clean. He was so sinful and messy.

The warm fire crackling in the corner hugged at his soft skin, making his eyes blown wide with lost twinkle like starlight. He looked so in love as he stared at you as if you were the only person in the world.

Breathing heavily, you reached out for him, and he was happy to lean in so you could wrap your arms around his neck, toying with the shorter curls at his nape as he kissed you again, your taste still on his tongue as your tongues intertwined. You weakly fought against his intrusion, teasing, only for him to grab a handful of your ass, making you gasp and effectively losing the battle.

He flooded your being with everything he had, his scent, his love, his passion, adoration, everything.

His knowledge on your own sexual human anatomy astounded you, but always left you moaning against him, much to his utter pleasure.

His thumb circled your twitching clit, bringing your attention back to his actions and the way you clenched helplessly around thin air, waiting for him.

You hungrily eyed the bulge in his underwear, licking your lips at the spot of wetness where his dripping head was.

You wanted to feel him inside you again, to clench around the very thing that drove you insane other than his skillful touch.

“P-please..” You begged, detaching yourself from him, pleading for mercy under his sharp gaze as he soaked up your wrecked self.

He loved hearing you beg.

“Please what?” he drawled out, running his lips down the side of your face and neck, pressing kisses against your collarbone. Moving his thumb previously giving you what you desire to your thighs, he held them in his grasp just to feel your smooth, warm skin against his rough, scarred palms.

You whined, shimmying your hips to draw his attention to them. He ignored your advances, peering up at your face with a glare and crooked smile that shot sparks down your body, “Tell me.”

As if on cue, and unable to disobey his words that squeezed your heart, you sputtered a response, barely able to maintain eye contact, “P-please touch me..! M-more.. I, I need more, please! I want..” your breath was stolen from your lungs as he began to grind his clothed crotch against your wet core, “I want you! I w-want you to fuck me, please..! I- I can’t take it anymore.. Please, Izuku..!” More tears fell from your eyes, falling onto the mattress below you, “Please fuck me..!”

Happy with your response, but still not quite ready to give in, he pulled away, circling your clenching hole with his middle finger, watching as your head flew back with tears as you meekly thrust upwards.

As much as he wanted to pull himself out right now and fuck you until his bed broke from the sheer force, he couldn’t risk hurting you.

Even if the potion was designed to make you ready for everything sexual, willing to comply with his every demand, you still were his princess, his angel, and he was going to treat you like one.

He didn't want you to wake with the soreness of not being properly prepared, even if he could heal you a minute after. That minute of you crying from the pain that HE selfishly caused would always be stabbed into his heart, and he certainly didn't want that, nor you to experience it.

“Sorry, love..” he apologized, finally plunging his thick finger inside you after thoroughly coating it with your slick, moaning at how tight you were for him.

“Fuck..” he whispered under his breath, keeping your thighs splayed wide open as he sat back on his haunches to watch you react to him.

Your back was arched, begging for more as you gripped the sheets below you, cheek pressed against the mattress as low moans trickled out your sinful mouth like water.

Face hot, a boyish smile fell on his face as he added another finger, observing how you hotly throw your head back as he pressed against the spongy spot inside your walls.

“Aaahh..! T-there! R-right there..!”

“I know, darling, shh, shhh.” He cooed at you, curling his fingers against your G-spot with each thrust in and out of your sopping pussy. His fingers made wet clicks inside of you as they rubbed against your walls, dragging more and more moans out of you as you ground down on his large digits.

His eyes couldn’t leave the view of you sucking him back in every time he pulled his fingers out, it left him imagining more and more scenarios in his head.

God, how he wanted to destroy you.

Have you screaming his name so loudly you broke the sound barrier he had set up ages ago, letting all of the castle and its snobby guards know he was fucking the love of his life and doing it damn well.

He bet they would be jealous.

Those thoughts of it made his adrenaline spike, adding a third finger to the squelching party mixing your insides up, leaving you at their utter disposal.

Arousal poured from you like a steady stream, gushing down and leaving a wet puddle under your ass.

You were so wet for him it was hard to bear, but you felt so, so good.

Your mind was so muddled with lust, you couldn’t think straight, all that entered your mind was ‘more, more, more.’

You were being greedy, but you couldn’t help it.

Deciding you were prepped enough, his fingers pulled fully out of you, putting on a small display of licking them clean as you watched with wide, doe eyes, stuttering out about how dirty that was.

“More dirty than you using my face as a seat, my lady?” He teased, tucking his face into the crook of your neck.

“T-thats..”

He chuckles at your flustered response.

Pulling his underwear down, his cock slaps against his toned stomach, fully erect and dripping with precum.

Throwing them off to the side, he noticed the way your eyes greedily looked at his body, confidence burning his veins as he sees the impatience in your eyes as you stare at his member.

He was tempted to say, ‘like what you see?’ but he himself was far too eager and impatient to wait any longer.

Grabbing himself, he ran his thickness between your lips, gathering your arousal on him before leading himself to your entrance.

“Ready?” He asked whilst kissing the skin below your ear.

You nodded, hips wiggling in anticipation.

“A-ahh! Fuck!” You cried out as he fully sheathed himself inside you with one thrust, bottoming out immediately.

He bit at your skin, concealing the deep moan that rumbled in his chest as you strangled his weeping dick at last.

You were so intoxicating, you sweet aroma wafting off you with every breath.

Grinding himself inside of you, he waited patiently for you to adjust, leaving hickeys all over your skin with each passing second.

Gulping down air, you thrust upwards, dragging him out of his blissed-out state just to moan heavenly deeply in your ear.

“Naughty girl..” he seethed, making you giggle, only to be shut up as he pulled out and slammed his hips back into your own, drawing out a garbled moan.

Skin slapped wetly against skin with each rough thrust he relentlessly delivered, drinking up your cries for more.

Leaning back to watch you with hungry, dark green eyes, pupils blown wide with lust. He pinned your arms to the bed above your head, a punishment for catching him off guard.

His cock was truly a godsend, thick and long, curved upwards just to slam repeatedly into your soft g-spot over and over.

You could only hold on for dear life as he fucked you good and hard just like you wanted, just like you craved.

“O-Ohh!!! Izu!! Izuku-! Ahh.! F-fuck..!” You moaned with each thrust inside your wet self, body being pushed back from the sheer intensity of which he fucked you with.

He knew your body so well by now, he knew each and every way to make you fall apart by his own doing.

He knew how to break you in the most sinful way possible, and he loved it.

Your face was lewdly contorted with pleasure, eyes looking back, eyebrows pinched together, (H/C) baby hairs plastered to your sweaty forehead, and mouth gaping wide open so he could hear every slur of words and every noise you emitted.

He wanted to hear everything you had to say, every reaction to the way he fucked you.

He could feel you growing tighter around his throbbing cock, juices coating his thighs with each heavy thrust inside of you.

He loved how much he could turn you on, even if right now it was all thanks to the potion that added pink hearts to your innocent (E/C) eyes.

The same potion that had you openly moaning unashamedly, whereas you previously would have held them in by biting your lip and hands.

He was so happy to hear how good he made you feel.

At long last.

“(Y/N)..” he panted heavily, peering deeply into your glossy eyes, movements becoming more and more sloppy as he lost himself to the pleasure, a burning pressure building up in his gut with each shallow and deep thrust.

Falling down on top of you, he held you close to him, letting your arms go so you could dig your nails into the flesh of his toned, freckled back flexing with each movement.

The bed banged loudly against the wall, he momentarily worried it would leave a dent- but he couldn’t think about that now. Not when you were crying out his name so sweetly.

“I’m here, I’m here..” he soothed as you clung to him.

Your hips began to move in circles, drugging him with intense ecstasy as he thrusts into you. You kept him wanting more and more. He was addicted to you.

Pushing your legs back against the mattress, he reached so deep inside you, you swore you could feel his head kissing at your womb.

You were so helpless to the waves of infinite pleasure he washed you over with that all you could do was take it.

“You’re doing so.. hah… so good, baby..” he praised breathlessly.

“Gnnn! Gaahhah..! Izuku!!”

“Let me hear it.. let me hear you, princess.” He smiled against your skin as you let out an onslaught of sultry moans, fueling his inner fire.

“I’m..! I- gwaahhh..! I’m so c-close..!”

“Me too, me too..” He fervently pressed kisses to your cheek, letting his other hand travel down to coat his thumb in your spare wetness, just to rub circles on your puffy clit, applying the right amount of pressure that always drove you insane.

Drool dribbled down the side of your mouth as your tongue flopped out, breasts bouncing with each and every thrust, constantly captivating him as he could feel their softness against his pecs.

Holding you flushed against him, he let magic crackle to life on his hand, green sparks lighting up the area around the two of you just barely. His hand began to vibrate, magic he learned was good for massaging muscles, but of course, it had.. other uses..

The vibration against your clit, added to the pounding of his cock expertly slamming against your G-spot, sent your head flying back, white vision going black as your pussy strangled his cock like a python.

“Haaahh.! Aah!” You cried his name out so loudly it burned your throat, leaving you to cum harshly on his dick, the strange sensation of liquid squirting from your body making your mind go numb as all you were left with was burning hot stars in your eyes.

The display alone was enough to drag him over the edge as well, slamming his cock into you once more before warm ropes of cum spurted into you, completely coating your walls and spewing out from the sheer amount as he let out a silent moan.

His thighs twitched and his stomach felt empty when he finally came down from his high, the same time as you.

Love filled his gaze as you both peered into each other’s eyes, enraptured by the souls sealed within.

Heavy breaths blew past your lips, desperate to calm down your racing heart.

“How was it..?” He questioned lightly, moving hair out of your face so he could get a better look.

“How was… what..?” Your mind was still clouded. You hadn’t any idea how he could still think straight.

Giggling, he rubbed his nose lovingly against your own.

“The potion. Could you feel its effects..?”

Staring at him in bewilderment, it took a second to register his words.

The potion.. what had it done again..?

Oh..

You slapped a hand over your mouth, pulling away from him. “Oh gosh..!”

You were so embarrassed!

Gah, to be so loud!! You wanted to hide in a hole..!

“Don't be shy, my love,” He pleaded sweetly, placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead, “it’s just me.”

“That's the point!! I-it was embarrassing to- to be so.. lewd in f-front of you…”

“You say that, and yet I’m still deep inside you,”

“Izuku..!” You groaned, shoving his smiling face away with both hands, only for him to grab your hands and place gentle kisses on them.

“I.. I liked hearing you..” he flushed, bashfully looking away.

Though he could be quite the dominant man in bed, it was always endearing how he was still the shy witch you fell in love with at the end of the day.

“W-well I..” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, “Well I’ll be louder for now o-on then..!” Your declaration surprised him, shock resting on his features before he broke out in another smile, flopping on top of your sweaty body just to hug you to his own equally as sweaty body.

“I love you, (Y/N)..” he sighed blissfully, burying his nose in your hair as he cuddled you, the crackling of the blazing fire just now reaching his ears.

“I love you too, Izuku.”

Though he could be a handful at times, with his insistent drive to be better and push himself beyond his current limits, as well as running headfirst into danger and getting littered with scars, you still loved him.

You always would.

He was your kind witch, and you, his darling beloved.

And nothing would ever get between a witch and the one he called his.

…

….

“So, are you going to pull out? I feel a little messy.”

“In a minute..”

“Izu!”

751 notes · View notes

thestarsoutofyourwindow · 4 years

Text

11th Doctor x Reader - “If you don’t hold me now I think might just fall apart.”

Authors note: I tried my best to keep this in character- so if this is lacking in a story, that’s because I was a little hesitant to write a climax just in case I got it a little off. The gif isn’t mine, obviously. Crickets, this took a long time, so you BeTTeR aPPreCiaTe It. Just kidding, but I hope you enjoy it, even a little bit!

Now, it’s five am so I better go write some fifth Doctor now :)))

Feel free to tell me if i could improve anything or what you liked or whatever!

Word count: 1,719

Includes: Slight (?) angst, mentioning of being left by the Doctor (just prep yourself)

Requested by: @yourneighbourhoodclown, it won't let me tag them for some reason, so we will have to pretend.

“Where's your adventurous spirit!?" The Doctor giggles, pulling a lever on the TARDIS console, the entire ship convulsing as she dematerializes. His attention wavered between looking at you and the TARDIS.

"Urgh, god knows with all the-" Another lurch cut you off. "Focus on driving before you get us killed."

"Make me," He shouted over to you, running his fingers through his hair, with a smile that could only be described as a shit-eating grin.

Your stomach and eyes rolled in synchronization as the TARDIS jerked about, "I won't get half the chance. You'd think you'd get used to being thrown around in this- BOX- Urg. It doesn't help you're not a very good driver."

"Oi! I am too!" The Doctors scowled for a few moments, but you were to distracted with how your stomach swirled. Yet again the moment was interrupted by you being thrown into the railing.

"Of course you are, dear." You taunted him.

"Oh, this is gonna be a rough one-!" The Doctor cackled, smiling up at TARDIS console.

"Just like you to show your 'adventurous spirit'." You mocked, rolling your eyes and jabbing your elbow into his side. He glanced at you and furrowed his eyebrows; just as the rain started to pour down on you two. You had found yourselves in a seemingly endless forest, engulfed in an unsettling atmosphere. You just so happened to materialize in a clearing with a convenient dirt pathway littered with branches and bushes, which appeared to lead to some curiosity-sparking warm lights, bare pinpricks in the distance.

You knew the Doctor would want to investigate. You weren't particularly bothered, as long as you had the Doctor by your side.

"Oi you," The Doctor grinned at that, glancing at you then back out to the vast forest, then turned to look at you. "Umbrella?" You asked. He smirked and he pulled one of those large umbrellas, that people have to carry around like a staff or walking stick, yes one of those, out of his pocket. He played with the umbrella-like a sword, thrusting the umbrella and mocking a few blocks. You put your hand on his shoulder and he paused, looking over at you.

"Right, yes-" The Doctor opened the umbrella, which was a lot bigger than most umbrellas, swinging it up and resting it on his shoulder. He held his arm out for you, inviting you under the umbrella with a wink. You stepped under the umbrella, and he draped his arm over your shoulders as the both of you started the brisk walk towards the alluring lights.

Upon reaching the Cabin, which was more like a small mansion -still massive for the one person who lived there yet almost exclusively in the library, you met an old woman with a quaint affinity with voodoo and witchcraft (not the horrible sort though, she seemed quite friendly, if a little odd).

"You know, it doesn't help that every wall here is painted with get out." The Doctor stated, gesturing to the wall with a slight nod.

"I'm sorry?" The old, witch-like woman asks. The Doctor gestured to the wall, his face squished up, his eyes searching yours for confirmation.

"You don't see that?" He tensed, pulling out the sonic from his jacket and scanning the wall, and then you and the woman. He checked it and you could almost pin the moment his jaw went slack.

"Y-you have been marked-" The old witch sputtered. Your blood ran cold when you heard that. The Doctor, who was standing just next to you, brushed his fingers against yours, seemingly in search of contact- comfort. You curl your fingers around his, not taking your eyes off the woman.

"What do you mean marked?" You ask, after a few too many moments of silence. The woman seemed to snap out of a trance and

turns around, rushing back to her library nook.

"He- he is doomed. The Beast himself has left his mark."

"You keep saying that, but what does that mean, ma'am?" You only asked out of concern. You gave the Doctors hand a squish of comfort. It wasn't uncommon for the Doctor to hold hands with you, so you didn't consider that to be particularly weird

"Your husband here-" The lady starts, shakily flipping through the book she had picked up.

"Oh no, we're not even-" You shake your head.

"He spoke of, writing- on the walls. That's always the first step. He will be contaminated by the beast- you and me, we're in danger."

"Of course it had to be me..." the Doctor mutters, staring into nowhere. You could nearly see his fear, the smallest hint of anticipation in his eyes. This will be... something.

"What's going to happen to me?" He asked.

"It will take your mind, turn it against you, and twist you to madness. You will then kill us." The woman shook her head, looking out of the window with a solemn pout. "It has happened before and it will happen again. If you will excuse me, I need to protect the rest of this planet." She scurried off, a little satchel being yanked off a counter, knocking a few candles and unburnt sage sticks and other oddities, some less recognizable.

"Wait, no don't-" The Doctor called after her, but she had already left. "Urgh."

As soon as she had left, you briskly walked over to where she was stood, investigating the book she was flipping through so religiously, all the while handing in hand with the Doctor. You moved your hand from his so you could flip the pages of the book, but his hand only grabbed at your sleeve.

"Basically, uh..." You mutter, whilst consulting the page of the apparently gospel book, "Give me a heads up if start to feel any murderous tendencies." You chuckled flatly.

Let's say, the two of you weren't particularly keen on remembering what happened. Or talking about it. But you could tell something was weighing down on him. You could also bet on your life what it might be.

The two of you were standing in the medbay, just a few hours after you had found your ways back to the TARDIS. Your "escape" wasn't something you were proud of. Both of you had tried, and succeeded in a way, to forget about it as best you could. The unforgettable part was, of course, the fact that, after being hooked up to a machine that literally connected you to satan themself. The Doctor said that "that was a very silly idea and to never do that again, also you might have slowed your ageing by like, 10000% but that's here or there you were literally connected to satan are you good". Well maybe not that exactly but that's the general point.

That was almost too convenient, you thought to yourself. Almost like you were in a romantic fanfiction or something stupid like that. There's nobody better to look after an old time lord like a human that might never age or die if you were careful enough.

The two of you are still in the medbay, and you were just putting a plaster/band-aid on the side of The Doctors' chin when he broke the silence with a classic:

"I- I could've killed you." The doctor states, staring into nothing. "Me! The Doctor... You're my best friend and I could've-"

"Hey. Shhh." You whisper, caressing his cheek with your hand, placing your other hand on his shoulder. "It's alright. I'm alright, and most importantly, you're okay too."

The Doctor's eyes tear up. You tilt his head up and look him in the eye. Oh god, how those big sad eyes make your heart wrench. Despite that, you gave your best reassuring smile. "I'm here. I'm okay. I'm not going anywhere."

A raspy sob forces its way out of his throat and his entire body leans into yours. "Hold me." He whimpered into your shoulder. "if you don't hold me now," the doctor sniffles and takes a deep breath, "I think I might just fall apart."

You do just that.

You hold him close, and you don't let go. You have to lean forward a little because the Doctor is sat on a bed, but you don't mind that, you're more focused on rubbing circles on his back and running your fingers through his hair. He tugs you towards him- and you're stood very awkwardly, but you still hug him back; you feel the hot tears practically burning into your shirt.

"It's alright, isn't it?" You ask. The Doctor nods his head frantically in response. "Exactly. It's a-okay. Bad times happen and it's hard to forgive yourself, but always try to remember that I'm here, Doctor. If you can't forgive yourself, I'll forgive you. As much as you might hate it, you're stuck with me now, Doctor." You finish playfully, ruffling his hair again, and going back to curling it around your fingers.

He mumbles something to you through tears, but you don’t quite believe what you heard.

“I love you.” The Doctor sniffles again. “I’m so sorry, but I love you. I know you won’t- you couldn’t ever love me back, not in this way but- I can’t lose you.” He sobs again, his grip tightening on you.

“I love you too.”

Well. For the rest of your years, no matter how many that is, the two of you, no matter what happens, no matter how many people leave, there would always be a constant for the two of you in each other's arms.

In any other circumstance, you’d be thrilled. But right now, you’re terrified. You didn’t want to lose him either, but you knew it wouldn’t be above him to leave you being on earth, in order to ‘protect’ you. Which you and I know, it bloody well wouldn’t. But what you heard next settled your nerves, yet upset you.

“Please... please don’t leave me. Please, please, please, please, please...” The Doctor keeps repeating that, over and over like a broken record.

“I won’t I promise, on anything and everything. Like I said, you’re stuck with me and I love you so, and now I know you love me too I’m not exactly about to bugger off now am I?”

He really thought you’d leave him.

You wouldn't concider it. Not even for a second.

#11th doctor #eleventh doctor #x reader #11th doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #angst #fluff #im back #doctor who #newwho

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operation-619 · 4 years

Text

Satan’s Angel

Johnny Storm x WOC!Reader

Summary: She was hidden from the world at the age of 16 when something within her awoke. Something demonic. But she has her brother to hold onto when things start to get worse, because he’s there for her. Right?

warnings: language, blood, violence, mentions of medical problems. mentions of needles, abuse and torture. 18+

WC: 2.2K

masterlist I Chapter 2

So I wrote this ack in my Quotev days, and I decided to edit it - because it was atrociously written. And I’m now posting it on here so I hope you enjoy my loves

-619x

The world has never been in my favour, I realise that now.

I should’ve realised it years ago.

But standing here looking my estranged brother in the eyes; I finally realise that the world has led me on a path that had to end this way, no matter how hard I tried to swerve and dodge the upcoming circumstance, I would always end up staring at my brothers empty eyes, with my hand deep in his chest.

Killing him. Killing my brother.

She sat there, waiting for the pain to embrace her like a long-lost cousin. She knew it was time; her heart was spasming, she could hardly breathe. Her eyes were watery, tears sliding down her face.

Yet she sat there at the edge of her bed staring out the window that occupied the whole wall opposite her bed. She could see the mountains from her bed so clearly. It was as if she was there.

If she was there.

Her chest moved erratically, her cheeks soaked with tears, yet she sat calmly; pondering, wondering, daydreaming about a life outside these four walls that kept her trapped in her own mind.

A mind that kept her sane and crazy all at the same time. She would dream up stories of a handsome young prince saving her with a fiery kiss. Or most times it was a nightmare, a world made of purple skies and vibrant green grass, set aflame; with bodies lying across the ground as she ran with some man, her hand in his so he wouldn’t lose her, the other hand on her belly housing a precious creature. She never got the end of the nightmare because she would wake up just before a monster jumped on top of her.

She would always jolt up, sweat weighing heavy on her skin, a scream rising up her throat along with bile and the feeling on nostalgia. She hated how she knew the place she was dreaming of yet couldn’t place a finger on it.

Before she could ponder anymore, she felt the first flicker of pain, it started at the bottom of her spine, and oh-so painfully started to spread across the rest of her rigid body. She drew in a ragged breath as the pain wrapped a hand around her heart and squeezed. She clenched her eyes shut tight and tried soothe her breathing, but the hand around her heart squeezed harder. She gasped out in pain and rolled forward; landing on the floor on her knees as her hand started to scrape at her chest, desperately trying to remove the hand off of her heart. It was as if it was laughing at her attempts because next thing she knew, the hand squeezed so hard she fell forward onto her hand and screamed.

She screamed so loudly, black dots clouded her vision and danced around her. Her throat felt sore, but she didn’t stop.

She couldn’t.

Her body shook as sobs replaced the screaming in a matter of seconds. She hated this, for the past eight years it just seems to be getting worse. Ever since she surpassed her sixteenth birthday, all it has ever been was pain, pain and pain. It was tenfold as worse as it used to be. Before her sixteenth birthday it was like a build up to the pain she was feeling now. Minor headaches, to migraines, to temperatures either too hot or too cold. No one knew what was wrong with her. Not even the best doctors’ money could buy. And if it wasn’t for Victor she wouldn’t be here, with round the clock care to make sure she is okay, she knew that he loved her even though he wasn’t around as much as he used to be. She knew.

Of course, he loves you. Your all he’s got, and vice-versa.

The thoughts echoed around her head, bouncing painfully off her head.

The vibrations of the floor let her know that the people were on their way. Moments later she felt her body being lifted from the floor, she felt herself slump against the broad chest of some man, she given up fighting against the pain and just let it take over her system. She couldn’t stop the tears, the echoed the lack of control she had over her own body as the gushed down her paling face.

“Hush now, close your eyes. I’ve got you.” The deep voice vibrated through her body, it felt oddly familiar and through all the pain she managed to look up into the familiar blue eyes of her brother.

“Vic- “her words fell short as she lost the energy to speak, instead she used all her energy to place her hand onto his smooth cheek.

“Hush, it’s okay. I’m here now.” With that statement she let her eyes roll to the back of her head, as the pain drowned her in its last tidal wave.

Victor released a long ‘huff’ as he stopped at another traffic light. He regretted coming back to New-York at 14:00 pm when the streets would be busy with the afternoon rush. He rhythmically tapped his fingers against the arms rest and looked on through the divider, he smirks as he saw his driver’s hand gripping the wheel tightly out of frustration too.

His attention was quickly drawn to his phone when he heard the ringtone brake through the silence in the car; reaching into his jacket he removed his phone from the inside pocket of his black Louis Vuitton suit jacket.

‘Her vitals are erratic again; she’s going to go into Comatose. But I think it’s best if you came over. You can get the samples you need.’

The text message was all he needed for him to clear his throat and say;

“Michael, turn back around to the airport, please. We’re going to visit my sister.” With a nod from Michael, the car was swiftly turned around and quickly driven back to the airport. He sent a text to his pilot, telling him to ready the helicopter that will bring him to the facility he has in the Alps, which is coincidentally where he is keeping his sister.

Victors blue eyes grew stormy as he remembered how much pain his sister has been through in the past few years, the undiagnosed tantrums her body would throw sent his sister into an unbreakable cycle of pain and then unconsciousness. He knew deep down that one day she’ll have an episode that she won’t concur.

He remembers the first time it happened; he was stepping through his front door. He barley even had time to take his jacket off before he heard a scream that made his blood curl, rushing upstairs he was met with a sight that had the breath taken out of him, there hunched on the bed was his sister.

Head clasped between her hands, nails digging into her skin as if she was trying to peel her own skin off, her lower face was covered in blood from her nose, and her eyes were screaming for help, for an escape that she was so desperately seeking.

Victor rushed forward and attempted to prise her hands off her head. But was met with a force that had him crashing into wall next to the door. He looked up and saw his sister looking at him with unnatural black eyes and a hand pointed towards him with her palm open. Her eyelids fluttered before they were back to their normal hue.

“Help me…” her voice came out hoarse and timid before she convulsed onto the ground.

Surging forward Victor managed to catch her head just in time before it hit the corner of the bed frame. His vision was blurry as he looked at his sister, her head cradled in his lap as he tried to steady her from the excessive shaking.

His ears picked up the sirens and then the sound of the door getting thrown open as paramedics came rushing upstairs.

Yet he couldn’t move, his body wasn’t registering what was actually happening.

Their voices all became mumbled as he watched them pry her out of his grip, he tried to speak but his mouth wouldn’t move it just stayed there, hanging open like a fool.

He continued to stare at the group of paramedics struggling to hold his sister still as he felt two pairs of hands under his arms to haul him up.

‘Come on son.’ The voice sounded so distant and foreign to him as he let the two strangers support his weight as it appeared his own legs couldn’t do that. He hazily watched as the world around him moved without some much of a struggle. Next thing he knew he was sat on the curb with a blanket wrapped around him. Apparently for the shock.

Fuck that.

His head snapped to the side as he heard the shouting of the paramedics as the rushed his unconscious sister out of the house; one split off from the group and came over to him.

“Are you the boyfriend?” Victor shook his head, eyes trained on his sisters’ body being hauled into the back of the ambulance.

“Brother,” he managed to rasp out.

“Okay then that’s even better. Can you tell me anything about her?” His eyes stayed trained on his sister as the paramedics sorted her out in the back, the doors were wide open so he could see what they were doing.

“Yeah, yeah.” He numbly nodded. Half listening to what the man was saying.

“Any mental illness, inherited disorders from the family?” Victor continued to shake his head; the man continued asking questions, but they all had the same answer. A shake of the head from Victor Von-Doom.

“Okay can you tell me how old she is?” Victor looked down at his Rolex, his eyebrows furrowed in sadness when he realised what day it was. The watch read back 03:45am.

“October 31st, she turned sixteen forty-five minutes ago.” He finally looked over at the paramedic and noticed how young he really was, said paramedics face contorted into a look of unease. Victor sent him a look of confusion which lead to the boy looking away.

“Sorry sir, it’s just three am is considered the ‘witching hour’ in my religion, and it clashes with it being Halloween today as well- ‘the paramedic turned around and noticed the look on Victors face and cleared his throat- ‘Sorry sir. Happy birthday to her, you can ride with her if you wish.”

And with that the young boy scurried off.

Looking out the window, Victor noticed they were about to touch down on the landing pad. Exhaling unsteadily, he rolled his shoulders back preparing himself what was to come.

If only he knew.

The steady, rhythmic beeping of the EKG machine soothed Victors heart as he stood by the window and looked out onto the scenery that was suspiciously calming. Now he understood why his sister made him replace the tiny window for this huge one. It was once a wall, but with the extra light and the view it made the room less constricting, less likely of a panic attack for her.

“Hey.” The soft voice barley reached his ears, but he heard it and he couldn’t be happier. Spinning around he marched to her side and plonked himself down onto the chair that he’d been sat in for the past fourteen hours.

“Name?”

“(Y/N) Von-Doom. Victor?”

“No, Birthday?” “Monday, October Thirty-first, three am. Victor please.”

“Favourite person in the world?”

“Steve Harvey.”

“Hey, what happened to it being me”

“You wouldn’t shut up. Your making my head hurt Victor.” She raised a hand to rub her temple, only to hiss in pain as her muscles burned. Tears clouded her vison as she remembered what happened.

“Did anyone get hurt?” She was met with a ‘no’ from her brother. She mumbled a response that Victor couldn’t hear. He watched her as she looked out the window; eyes glassed over and distant, like she was somewhere else.

“I can’t do this anymore,” her voice was quiet, lacking emotion. It caused Victors heart to beat faster. He couldn’t let her go. Not now.

“(Y/N)?”

“I mean, here. Here in this room. Because these episodes are getting stronger, I can feel it. I probably won’t survive the next one. Or fuck, the one after that. Who knows Victor. I need to leave, get out of here. I don’t care where, I just need to leave.” Her sobs grew louder as did the EKG machine, he tried to soothe her, but it only grew worse.

Doctors and nurse appeared in a matter of minutes, they checked the vitals and the machine only to see her hysterically crying.

“Ma’am, you need to calm down for me please.” The nurse’s voice was sweet, almost taunting to (Y/N). She sighed when the girls crying grew louder. Nodding towards the older man in a pair of grey scrubs she quickly caught (Y/N)’s attention as the Doctor came forward and injected her with a mild sedative.

With in seconds the room grew quite as they all watched (Y/N)’s eyes close slowly.

Just before she went completely under; Victor cupped her cheek.

“I need you. So, I promise I’ll find out what’s going on. You’ll get out of here soon. I promise.”

He watched her eyes close completely and looked out of the window, leaning back against the chair he spoke one last time before closing his eyes:

“I promise.”

——

Chapter 2

#johnny storm #johnny storm x reader #fantastic four #reed richards #ben grimm #victor von doom #marvel #WOC #POC #Female!reader #angst #satan's angel

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my-soul-sings · 3 years

Text

just my luck: chapter 1

Fandom: Wannabe Challenge Characters: Taehee x Reader

Summary (placeholder): Having been cursed to live a life filled with misfortunes, moving to a new city to start anew was, as expected, a difficult process. But things start to change after you encounter a mysterious doctor who seems to know you even though you’ve never met him before.

Notes:

Will contain spoilers for Taehee’s Story.

The ‘Reader’ character will be left unnamed, and there are no mentions of ‘y/n’.

Taehee is trained in western medicine here, instead of oriental medicine.

The reader character will not be based on the in-game MC, other than her looks. The differences are because personally I think the in-game MC and Taehee’s personality don’t really match somehow.

This is basically my version of events of how Taehee and MC meet again. The details and events in this are not true to the game, other than Taehee’s backstory.

For now it’ll be here on tumblr (if and until I move it to AO3) and i’ll be using the tag #justmyluck on the blog for chapter updates.

***

The rain was loud in your ears. Cars whizzed by you, water splashing beneath the tires and onto the pavement as they went by, and people hurried about with their umbrellas that did little to keep them dry in this torrential weather.

You stood still in the middle of the hustle and bustle, your luggage by your side and your broken umbrella hanging limp and useless in your hand. The cold rainwater seeped into your clothes, and you shivered as a chill ran down your spine when the strong wind blew against your frame.

You could feel odd stares being directed your way, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your phone battery had been depleted, which meant you could no longer refer to Poogle Maps to get to where your new apartment was. You had already waited for the past hour trying to hail a cab to no avail, and no one was accepting your request on the Duber app.

As if moving wasn’t stressful enough already, all of this just had to happen. But you weren’t surprised in the least—it was just another typical day in your unfortunate life.

For as long as you could remember, you had terrible luck. At first it was trivial things like always getting the shitty prizes in a lucky draw no matter how many times you spun the wheel, and always losing in games of chance against friends. No matter where you went or what you did, it seemed you were doomed to consistently draw the short end of the stick.

Your luck seemed to only get worse as you grew older. Injuries grew increasingly common, and more severe. You didn’t think there were so many ways a person could get hurt—you had to learn it the hard way, from slipping on a banana peel, getting knocked down by someone who accidentally ran straight into you, getting hit by stray soccer balls or baseballs in school… The events were countless.

Your classmates used to joke that you had been cursed by a witch when you were younger. Sometimes you found yourself wondering if that was true after all. There was only so much bad luck one person could have in their life, and you seemed to be attracting a never-ending supply of it.

You’d hoped that maybe things would change after moving to this new neighbourhood. You had even specifically asked for an apartment that had ‘good feng-shui’, hoping that would make some kind of difference.

It didn’t. You hadn’t even arrived in your new home yet, but you could already tell that things weren’t going to change. If you had been cursed by a witch or been fated to suffer neverending misfortune, then moving to a new neighbourhood to start afresh wasn’t going to change anything.

With a sigh and a shiver, you decided to shake yourself out of your low spirits. No point dwelling on these things, you may as well hurry to your apartment before something worse happened. So you picked up the handle of your luggage and continued trudging on, your feet making squelching sounds with each step from the water that had filled your shoes. You’d get home one way or another, and a little rain wasn’t about to stop you.

Just as you finished that thought, the handle of your luggage broke, and the whole thing tumbled straight into a muddy puddle, sending specks of mud flying and staining your jeans.

It took everything in you to suppress a frustrated scream when you dipped your fingers into the dirty waters to pick up your luggage again.

***

By the time you arrived at the apartment building, you looked like you had been to hell and back.

But hey, at least you had come out alive, right?

Your landlord had been surprised to see you drenched from head to toe, and she had kindly offered a fresh towel and some hot tea for you after inviting you into her home. She was a kind elderly lady, and her warm welcome brightened your mood considerably. The tea had felt extra warm as you made small talk with her before taking the key to your apartment.

But then your mood sank right back down to rock-bottom when you realised that you had to carry your heavy luggage up five whole flights of stairs, because it just so happened that the elevator wasn’t working. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anyone you could ask for help—certainly not the sweet old landlady. You felt bad to bother any of your neighbours too.

So an hour and one rough tumble down the stairs later, you miraculously made it all the way up to your door. You would be jumping for joy if your arms didn’t feel like they were about to fall off. All you wanted to do was take a hot shower, lie down and get some sleep. Maybe take some painkillers before that too, because you could feel a migraine coming up.

The apartment smelled a little musty when you entered, but otherwise, everything looked great. It was bare, seeing as there was some delay in the delivery of your furniture, but it was clean. There weren’t any bugs that you could see from a quick survey of the rooms, so that was good enough in your book.

Looking around your simple studio apartment, you smiled to yourself, glad that you had finally made it here despite the many hiccups along the way. Nothing could dampen your spirits now; moving here marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life, and you were ready for your new job that would be starting in two weeks.

You had a good feeling about all this somehow, despite dripping wet all over your floor and even though your sides hurt from falling down the stairs together with your luggage earlier.

Cursed or not, you were excited about living here already.

***

Two days later, your furniture still had not arrived. You had to make do with the sleeping bag you’d packed in your luggage for contingencies such as this. The moving company wasn’t getting back to you even though you had sent them a string of emails asking for updates. You hoped it was just a lack of staff around on the weekends, and that someone would get back to you by Monday.

Apart from that, there weren’t any major problems. Everything in the apartment was working fine. You had made sure to check everything to make sure you wouldn’t suffer some kind of freak accident in your own home—it had happened before, when the ceiling fan in the living room fell just when you left to take a drink. (Looking at it from another angle, you had been incredibly lucky with that close shave.)

The only issue left was the fever that you had woken up to that morning, definitely because you had been caught in the rain. Thankfully, the landlady had informed you that there was a clinic just across the street, so you made plans to go after forcing yourself to eat half of an apple. You didn’t have an appetite but you’d probably faint on the way if you went on an empty stomach, and ending up in the hospital was definitely not on your to-do list here.

It was warm out when you stepped out of your apartment building. The sun was up, and the temperature was just right. Perfect for a walk. You’d probably enjoy it better if your head wasn’t pounding so much.

It wasn’t too difficult to find the clinic. Like the landlady said, it was right across the street, a mere five minutes’ walk from your apartment. And then right down the street was a convenience store too. You’d go pick up some snacks and ready-made foods later — it’d be too tiresome to cook while sick.

The clinic wasn’t too full, thankfully. There were maybe about four to five people inside when you arrived, and after registering at the counter you took a seat and checked your phone. You hadn’t had the energy to reply to anything yesterday, so it seemed that your phone had blown up while you were gone.

The messages were mainly from Seohee, your best friend. You saw multiple missed calls and messages from her, and from what you could glean from the message previews, she had been worried because you just went MIA without updating her on your whereabouts. She had been worried from the start when she heard that you were going to live alone in a new city, without anyone accompanying you.

Grimacing, you swiped right to open the chat, and you typed a quick message to assure her that you were doing fine and adjusting great, casually omitting the part where you had fallen sick and your furniture hadn’t arrived yet. No need to worry her, she had enough things on her plate to manage.

The other messages were from random group chats that you didn’t have the energy to read at the moment, so you locked your phone and closed your eyes momentarily, leaning back in your seat and resting your head against the wall. The doctors seemed to be taking a while…

About half an hour later, your number was called. Finally.

You stood up a bit too quickly, and black spots promptly appeared in your vision while your head started to spin. A nod was all you could manage when the receptionist pointed to one of the rooms down the hallway, while you took hesitant steps forward and tried to steady yourself. Eventually the dizziness subsided and your head cleared up a bit when you read the name written on the door plate: Dr. Taehee Kim.

You repeated the name a few times in your head. It had a nice ring to it. You knocked twice on the wooden door and pushed down on the door handle to enter.

“Good morning.” You heard a deep, male voice, and your first thought was that you liked it. There was a soothing quality to it, and maybe it was an exaggeration but your headache seemed to lessen just from hearing him speak.

You looked up, wearing a polite smile and returning the morning greeting. Or at least, you were about to, but then your voice caught in your throat and you found yourself staring into the eyes of who was quite possibly the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. He had thick, wavy black locks parted to the side, and a pair of deep set, dark grey-ish green eyes—a colour you had never seen before. His complexion was fair and otherwise flawless, and you could tell from his defined jawline and broad shoulders that he worked out regularly too. He looked handsome enough to be a model, and you couldn’t help but stare with widened eyes, while heat began to gather in your face. Whether it was from the fever, or because of him, you couldn’t tell.

But getting to see such a handsome doctor… today had to be your lucky day. For once.

The only thing was, it seemed to be the exact opposite for him. Contrary to the tone of his greeting, he now looked like he had just seen a ghost. He sprang to his feet the moment he saw you, and his chair rolled backwards until it hit the wall behind him with a loud thump. His eyes were blown wide, lips parted as he stared at you, searching your face for something… You didn’t know what, exactly.

The normal thing to do now would be to sit in the empty chair next to his desk and for him to do his job, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move a single step. Not when he was looking at you like this, as if he had a million things to say but couldn’t. So you stood there, feet glued to the spot by the door as you stared back, blinking and confused.

He spoke again after the tense silence stretched on for much longer than you’d have liked.

“Is… Is it really you? Am I dreaming? Is this… real?”

In the silence of the room, his shaky whisper rang loud and clear in your ears.

Affection. Sadness. Longing. They were unmistakable in his wavering voice, in his eyes that were starting to glisten with what seemed like tears.

The only problem was, you didn’t understand why. Much less why it was being directed to you. You were missing something here, or maybe it was him. You didn’t know. Your head hurt, and you just wanted some medicine, and then to go home to sleep this fever off.

But now your doctor was walking towards you, each footstep ringing in your ears as he drew closer and closer, his perplexed expression remaining the same. And for some reason you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his, much less find the strength to push him away when he stood an arm’s length away and gently held you by the shoulders. Even the way he tried to hold you was strange — his hands were shaking and his palms were barely brushing against your shoulders, hesitant and afraid.

Maybe you had spoken too soon. It probably wasn’t a lucky day at all—when would you learn? Now you were stuck in an office with a weirdo who was getting way too emotional over a simple consultation.

“A-Are you… okay?” The words came out as a timid squeak, and you watched as he blinked, though his eyes didn’t lose the glass-like quality to them. The ceiling light was reflecting off his eyes, and they seemed to be glistening with fresh tears.

“I never thought… I… I can’t believe it’s- it’s- H-How could this happen?”

You flinched when you felt something brush against your cheek, and it took a few seconds for you to realise that the back of his hand was ghosting over your skin.

Belatedly, your fight-or-flight response finally kicked in and you pushed his hand away, putting your hands out to make him step back and put some much-needed distance between you. Handsome or not, this guy was getting downright creepy and inappropriate.

“Look, I don’t know who you are, and I think you’ve got the wrong person. I’ll just go to another clinic-” You turned around, ready to hightail it out of his office, when you felt his hand on your wrist, holding you in place.

“No, wait. Please- Please wait. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, this is all my fault.”

A voice pounded in your head then. An image flashed in your mind, one of a man who didn’t belong in this time period. He was dressed in traditional clothes, and he was holding you with tears streaming down his face. You couldn’t quite make out his face from the blurred picture that came and went like lightning, but the sound of his voice was the same as this doctor’s desperate plea.

Then dizziness hit you once more, but this time it didn’t subside. The last thing you remembered before your vision turned black was the sound of him calling your name.

***

A/N: I will be leaving this on tumblr for now, I’ll probably start posting on AO3 when I have more chapters ready to post. :) I’d love to hear your thoughts on this first chapter and thank you for reading! :)

#wannabe challenge #wannabe challenge taehee #kim taehee #wannabe challenge fanfiction #wannabe challenge fanfic #taehee fanfiction #my writing #just my luck

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descendantofthesparrow · 5 years

Text

Commission - Harry Hook x Reader- do I love her? Do I love her not? - part 5

thank you to @musicarose for commissioning me to write this!!

It had been a long two and a half years for Harry Hook, two and a half years since his arrival to Auradon, two and a half years since he had met you, two and a half years since his biggest regret.

Hurting you was his biggest regret, he only wished he had told you the truth before you had ended up finding out through his arrest.

Then maybe you wouldn't hate him, then maybe he would still be with you in Auradon.

He sighed, laying his head on his window, staring out into the smog, the lights of Auradon glinting in the distance.

His heart ached for you, every time he closed his eyes, he saw your pain-filled eyes, your tear-stained face, staring back at him with such hate and sadness.

He would do anything to get that look off your face.

Harry sighed, sitting up from his windowsill and standing, beginning to change into his nightclothes.

He pulled back his sheets and curled onto his bed, closing his eyes.

Hoping to wake up to a world with you.

You sighed, putting your hair into a fishtail braid, letting it drape over your shoulder. It was Janes's birthday today, so you had to at least tidy up a little bit. You sighed, fingers drifting over the purple bags under your eyes, it had been hard for you to get a good night's sleep for the past couple years.

Ever since….nevermind.

You slapped some makeup on, shoving on your shoes and jacket and making your way to the enchanted lake.

You didn’t expect Audrey to be there, setting a sleeping spell onto those around her. You were far enough away for her not to notice you, so you dived into the lake, waiting till the pink smoke settled.

You gasped as you popped up form the lake, smiling in relief as you saw jane lift herself from the water.

“Jane!” she gave a soft jump, turning to see you, a smile blooming on her face.

“(y/n)!”

He was exhausted, the silver knight pressing onto him with a strength of Audrey's magic. He was losing his grip, losing his footing.

Harry yelped, his right foot sliding from underneath him as another knight swiped a dull blade under him.

He grunted in pain as he landed on his back, eyes widening as the vision of a sharp blade rose, aiming at his chest. He rolled onto his side, narrowly missing the blade, he hooked his hook around the hilt, and pulled it towards him, the knight lost its grip.

Harry quickly flipped the sword into his hand, rushing to stand and yelling as he swung the broadsword at the knight's neck.

It sliced clean through, the knight collapsing as its head tumbled to the ground.

He panted heavily, whipping around as he heard another knight step behind him.

He leaped away, avoiding a heavy slam of a mace. He let out a wince as he landed on his ankle oddly, his legs trembled, failing him and he collapsed to the ground.

“Harry to your left!” Harry couldn’t react, he was completely out of breath and his legs were jelly. He glanced to his left, seeing a knight about to bring a heavy hammer down on him.

Jay and Gil leaped in front of him, Gil blocking the knight's hammer and jay barreling into the knight's torso.

It stumbled back, crashing into the ground. Gil sighed, giving harry his hand and heaving him up to his feet. “are you oaky harry?”

Harry let out a low grunt of pain, nursing his ankle and leaning heavily on Gil.

Jay sighed, moving to Harry's other side, he didn’t like the pirate (after what he did to (y/n), but he couldn't just let him limp around and slow the rest of them down.

Jay and Gil helped move harry over to the entrance, setting him down behind the door. Harry winced, trying to move his ankle around, but yelped lowly as a sharp pain shot up his leg.

“shit” he muttered, leaning back on his hands, “I think I sprained it” Celia hummed, kneeling next to him, waving her hands over his ankle

“yeap” she chided, digging into her pocket and withdrawing soft purple powder. “sprained it, here ya go” the powder glowed as Celia dusted it over his ankle, disappearing as it touched him.

“witch doctor” harry muttered, wiggling his ankle once more “forgot ‘bout tha’” he stood, smirking as no pain came from his ankle.

“Thanks, runt” Celia glared, scrunching her nose, reeling her fist back and punching his shoulder.

“don’t call me that” harry sniggered, patting her head, raising his brows to see the knights defeated.

“tha’ was fast” he muttered, sighing as once again, Mal and Uma began to argue.

It was going to be a while before he was going to be able to apologize to (y/n).

He stared, unable to breathe, there she was, (y/n), standing only a few feet away from him.

Though she was focused on beast ben, that didn’t matter, he was finally in her presence once more.

He felt his heartbeat too fast for its good, anxiety tightening his chest and making it hard to breathe.

You turned, your form freezing as you connected your eyes with Harry's.

You frowned, turning back around and stomping over to jane, leaning onto her shoulder and pouting, she glanced at you concerned, catching sight of Harry and glaring, grabbing your hand and leading you away.

“she hates me” harry whimpered, Gil patting his back “she fuckin’ hates me”

“Why do you care” Jay snarled from behind him, Harry turned seeing jay with a set scowl on his face “you’re the one who used her for the wand”

Gil shook his head “he didn’t want to, he was going to tell her before uma made a rash decision and doomed their relationship”

Jay raised his brows, “are-what a minute so that big show of tears the day you left wasn’t fake” harry scoffed, brushing off Gil's hand.

“none of my feelings fer (y/n) were and are no’t fake, nor will they ever be, I love ‘er”

Your jaw dropped, the end of Harry's sentence catching your ears, jane seemed to hear him, though with her fae ears she heard him crystal clear and she turned to you with a beaming smile.

“hes not lying” you turned slightly, seeing Jay glare at Harry, obviously not trusting him. You felt tears burn at your eyes, but you force them away.

You would talk about this to him later, but for now, defeating Audrey took priority.

“(Y/N)!” Harry screamed, tears burning at his eyes as thunder resounded around him, he sprinted back to the cottage gasping as he entered the clearing. seeing Mal on her knees, sobbing her heart out, grasping Ben and Evie’s hands…that were made of stone.

“no….i didn’t have a choice! I didn’t want to! Please!” Harry staggered forward, eyes locked on you.

There you stood, encased in stone, eyes up towards the sky, fear still on your face. You had seen the bolt of magic heading toward you.

Harry sniffed, stepping in front of you, reaching up to brush his fingers on your cold stone cheek “oh love” he muttered, “im sorry, im so sorry”

He saw Mal stand from her spot on the ground, stumbling as she did. She turned to him, her eyes glowing a soft green.

“if your feelings are true for (y/n), will you help me kick audreys ass?” harry stayed silent for a moment, chest tight staring into your fear laced eyes.

“aye” he growled, stepping back and nodding to mal “ill help yeh but I won't forgive yeh for plannin’ on closin’ the barrier fer good”

Mal nodded, turning and making her way out of the forest. “understood" Mal started to run, Harry taking one look back at you and sighing, sprinting off after Mal.

Harry grunted as light pierced his eyelids, muffled voices surrounding him.

“hes waking up!”

“Harry please, come on”

“come on harry dude, you gotta wake up”

“Harry!”

He jolted up, the burry faces of Uma and Gil hovering above him.

“Harry!” Uma laughed breathlessly, collapsing on his chest “thank hades! I thought we lost you!”

“where are we?” Harry mumbled, sitting up with the help of gil, uma froze, shoulders slumping

“on the isle” she muttered, glancing around Harry's room “when ben sent his security to get hades, adam sent us back with them”

“jackass” Gil muttered, “I know we tried to steal the wand, but we still helped with stopping Audrey, shouldn’t we get some sort of quarter!?”

“ben tried, but he couldn’t get the council on his side to keep us in auradon” Uma interrupted, a slight growl to her voice.

Harry shuffled in his bed, hesitating before he spoke up.

“what about (y/n)?” Uma smiled, chuckling.

“she also tried to keep us there, even after all we did to her. I think if I had tried, the two of us could have been good friends”

Harry smiled, so (y/n) had tried to keep him in auradon, that’s good, it meant that maybe one day he could gain her trust back.

A knock sounded at the door, Gil stood from his seat, walking over to the door and opening it, gasping as he did so.

“Gil?” Uma started, slightly weary as she stood to get closer to him “who is it?”

Gil stepped back, turning with a smile “(y/n)!” Harry's breath stopped as you stepped through the door, slipping your hood off your head.

You were dressed in black head to toe, dark makeup, and messy hair. Ripped jeans and scuffed boots.

Fingerless gloves and dark purple painted nails.

And…and an opal necklace resting on your collarbone.

“(y/n)?” Harry whispered, standing from his bed and walking over to you, going to rest his hands on your cheeks, stopping just short.

“yer, yer here” he laughed softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear “yer really here!” you smiled, setting Harry's heart to beat 1000 miles a minute.

“yeah, I had to” you giggled, reaching up to run your hand through his hair, spotting Uma and Gil sneaking out of the room behind you.

“I love you” Harry's breath stuttered, tears brimming in his eye.

“i-yeh do?” his voice cracked “but after all I did?”

You nodded, leaning up and pressing your lips to Harry's. Harry wrapped his arms around you, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

You tossed your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss.

As you separated, harry picked you up, spinning you around.

“I love yeh too my bonny lass” he whispered, burying his face in your neck.

“I love yeh too”

---the end---

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imagineseclipse · 5 years

Text

Stiles Stilinski x Witch!Reader- The hard way

Your head turned to your left shoulder, briefly looking back at Lydia Martin who was sat quietly in the drivers seat of her car, she caught your eye for a second sending you a reassuring nod.

Your eyes flickered over to Scott McCall who was stood frozen next to you, you could tell that he was nervous his whole aura had changed as the two of you approached the gates of Eichen House. You had promised yourself that you wouldn’t come back to this place but in situations like this promises had to be broken.

You weren’t a werewolf, you couldn’t listen to Scott’s heart rate that was increasing ever so slightly as he glanced down at you, wondering if you were as frightened as he was. However you were a witch, born into the Salem bloodline. You could read peoples Aura’s but you couldn’t actually perform any spells. How fitting especially during a time like this.

You’d been practicing witchcraft ever since the age of 15 and yet you still hadn’t been able to successfully cast a spell, and in emergencies like this you felt as if you were no help to the pack.

“I don’t like this idea one bit”Scott mumbled as he bit his lip hesitantly.

“Neither do I, but we have to get him out of there one way or another”you sighed, frowning at Scott.

“This is about Stiles, not about us”you added, nodding your head slightly.

Scott flashed you a look of understanding before his aura changed suddenly, you could feel the determination radiating off his body as he moved swiftly towards the Eichen house gates, pushing them open.

You listened to the towering gates creak open before turning to face Lydia once more, the strawberry blonde stared over from her car, sending you a look that told you she’d be waiting for you.

Scott shuddered next to you as the two of you stood close together, you took in your surroundings your thoughts drifting away as you felt the aura’s around you. Everyone in this place was so unhappy, and not to mention the trauma that everyone had gone through. You wished you could save them all.

This building was dark and evil, the people that worked there were dark and not to mention sketchy- your previous encounters with the staff proving the last statement to be true.

You were ripped so violently from your thoughts when a high pitched scream travelled down the coridoor, bouncing off the grey wallpaper. Scott’s body tensed up as you flinched backwards into him. You could feel his heart beating against his rib cage as he peered down.

You grimaced up at him, letting him know that he wasn’t the only one that was terrified.

“We can do this”he mumbled, nodding to himself before taking a step forwards towards the front desk. A voice from behind the two of you called out.

“Miss. Y/L/N, Mr. McCall”An unfamiliar voice made you and Scott turn on your heels in unison.

You came face to face with a man who looked no older than 25, his hair was almost pitch black and slicked back neatly. He wore a charming smile, but not the pleasant sort. The man was handsome, but dangerously handsome and you knew from the moment that his smile fell into a smirk-you couldn’t trust him.

“Well he’s new”you grumbled out under your breath. Scott nodded silently as he opened his mouth to continue.

“How do you know our names, how do you know who we are?”Scott spoke loud and clear, making sure he didn’t show any sign of weakness.

“I’ve been waiting for the two of you, although I did think that you would have come with the others y’know Miss.Martin and Miss.Tate considering they were both patients here”Unknown now very creepy Male speaks out to the two of you, an uncomfortably weird and questionable tone in his voice.

Your eye twitched slightly, rage building up in the pit of your stomach as he spoke about your two bestfriends.

“No, just us today sorry for the inconvenience”you shot back, your teeth gritting together as you decided mentally that this man was definitely the bad guy.

Your eyes fell to his name badge, widening upon reading his surname. Of course he knew who you were. You then caught sight of the key card that hung out of his front pocket on a lanyard.

“Brunski?”You scoffed out, folding your arms.

Scott’s eyebrows furrowed as he followed your line of sight. His eyes also catching sight of the key card.

“I’m his son”Dr. Well done for stating the obvious Brunski reveals.

“Figures”you breathed out, everything was making sense now. Brunski’s son was getting revenge for his father, Brunski senior had always had a vendetta against Stiles, and that’s why they hadn’t discharged Stiles on his leave date. They were keeping him hostage.

“So if you know who we are, then you know who we’re here for”Scott took a step towards Brunski. In that very second four large other rogue staff members appeared next to Brunski like they were guarding him. You and Scott definitely couldn’t take them on alone.

“I think we should take this conversation to my office”Brunski leered. You rolled your eyes, dismissing Brunski’s plan to take the two of you to his office and kill you both.

Balling up your fists you took a step forwards so that you were now stood next to Scott again, you narrowed your eyes angrily before exploding. Not caring about the four giants surrounding you.

“I think you should take your sorry as-

“What she means to say is that we aren’t going anywhere near your office, you are going to bring Stiles to us-alive”Scott interrupted you calmly.

You exhaled slowly, just wanting to see Stiles. You weren’t planning on leaving this doomed place without him. Thinking back on the unspoken promise that you had made eachother years prior.

“Stiles, I would never leave you behind”

“Y/n, I hope you know that I wouldn’t leave you behind either even if the world was literally ending and there was absolutely no chance of survival, or if an alien-

“I know I believe you”

“Good, w-well just make sure that you remember”

Brunski stood tall in front of you, his head tilted at an angle as he watched you grow more furious by the second.

“If you want Stiles there is a small price to pay”Brunski’s voice infuriated you. If they had hurt Stiles they would be the ones to pay the price you would make sure of it.

“Like father like son”you coughed out purposefully.

“We’re not paying anything, you’re going to get Stiles and you’re going to bring him back to us”Scott warned.

“Look man, you can either give him back to us or we can just take him”you shrugged, challenging Brunski. The dark haired doctor motioned once with his hands and his four protectors dispersed around you and Scott, forming a circle. Trapping you both.

Scott’s eyes widened, flicking his claws out as he growled wildly towards the tall bulky figures.

“I guess you wanted to do this the hard way”you groaned out. If this didn’t work, you were going to look very stupid.

You closed your eyes tight, flicking through your brain to find the most suited spell for this occasion. You put all of your focus into the thought of Stiles and getting him out of Eichen house.

The tips of your fingers started to tingle, feeling all of your energy run through your veins down into your hands.

“Incentos Permorai”you chanted, the spell easily rolling off your tongue as you started flicking your finger just as the overgrown men lunged towards you and Scott. Suddenly all the lights began to spark brightly before switching off all together, leaving you surrounded in darkness. You had done it, you had successfully cast a spell.

You didn’t have much time to stand and obsess over the fact that your powers were finally working, throughout the darkness you felt a hand latch onto yours, pulling you along quickly. You knew that Scott could see perfectly well in the dark, he swiped the key card away from Brunski who was trying to feel his way around the pitch black entrance corridor.

The two of you ran in the opposite direction to the shouting of the guards, the magic still flowing through your veins as you tried your hardest to keep the electricity down long enough for you and Scott to find Stiles.

“Scott I can’t hold it much longer”you hissed out in pain, suddenly feeling the weight of it all.

“It’s okay y/n turn it back on you did amazing, I can smell Stiles I got his scent before we came he’s literally in the room down this hall”Scott informed you as the two of you rushed down the halls towards a small but secure door.

You relaxed your body, closing your eyes. Within seconds the power had flickered back on.

Stiles had heard the commotion from outside of the door and he could have sworn he had heard your voice- he hadn’t heard it for so long now, maybe he was hallucinating.

Scott ripped the metal door off it’s hinges within seconds and you ran into the room first, your breathing had become erratic as you desperately searched every corner of the dark cold room.

Stiles’ mouth fell open as he watched you run across the room towards him, he stood from his seat on the floor immediately after seeing you and your body went crashing into his. He brought his hands up around you holding you tight in his arms.

“You came for me”Stiles sighed out with relief.

“I told you, I would never leave you behind”you whispered to him as the two of you loosened your grip on eachother.

Scott and Stiles reunited seconds later, sharing a tight hug before parting, Stiles patting Scott on the shoulder before making his way back over to you.

“Hey your nose is bleeding”Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed together as he lifted the sleeve of his checkered shirt up to your nose, wiping away the blood dripping onto your lip.

“That’s the least of our worries right now, we need to get out of here”you shook your head.

“Wait-The powercut did you just do that?”Stiles asked as Scott leant on the doorframe, checking to see if any of the guards had reached you yet.

“I don’t know how it just started working- but it did and that’s really not the point right now we need to leave!”You exclaimed as Scott ran back into the room.

“Too late-they’re here”he grimaced as one of the guards stormed towards the room. Scott jumped forwards swiping at him causing him to stumble backwards as another ran straight towards you and Stiles.

Stiles was about to step in front of you however you reached out, your hand wrapping gently around his arm stopping him from getting any closer.

“Impedimenta”you hissed out, Stiles’ eyes widened as everything around the three of you slowed down, the two guards were moving in slow motion giving you time to escape.

Your hand remained in Stiles’ as you ran back down the corridor, towards the entrance. Being sure to look out for Brunski and the two other guards on the way.

Your head started to become light and you could feel more blood dripping onto your jacket as you began approaching the main entrance, you were so close to leaving.

“H-hey y/n, you’re okay right?”Stiles bent his legs down so that he was level with your eyes. He frowned at the sight of the fresh blood.

“Just feeling a little weak that’s all, my energy will come back don’t worry”you reassured him, giving him a quick nod.

“Okay no more magic for you today, we’re nearly out of this place”he muttered as he wrapped your arm around his torso, his own arm holding you up but your shoulder. The two of you practically stumbling alongside eachother as Scott led the way.

There was no sign of Brunski junior anywhere as the three of you reached the entrance hall. Making your way over to the doors without hesitation, Scott began to pull on the handles but it seemed that the door wouldn’t open.

“Scott are you forgetting that you’re a werewolf?!”Stiles exclaimed, growing more worried.

“Stiles, do you wanna try to open these becau-

“Oh my bad, that’s my fault I’m sorry I can’t let you leave”Brunski’s voice chimed out from behind you once more, Stiles’ grip on you growing tighter as you turned to face your captor.

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lchufflepuffcorn · 6 years

Text

Her (Scott McCall x Reader)

Resume: Being a born necromancer isn’t nearly as cool as being a werewolf of a banshee. Even being human is cooler than being able to raise the dead.

Words: 3604

Warning: Bref mention of suicide (very brief but still) details of eyes missing.

Note: There is a high possibility of being a second part to that, I just don’t know when so... I hope you’ll like it. (I do not own the gif.) -LcH. xxx

You can find my masterlist here!!

If you could blame your weird habits on someone, in particular, you’d name your father, without a shadow of hesitation. The reason for it was that he had been missing from your life since you were very young, and you were sure as hell that your mother couldn’t see the ghosts like you could. Partly because when you would wake up crying, she would assure you that it was only a nightmare. You did try to tell her that, no, the bloody grandma living in the ceiling really was there, next to your bed but to no avail. So your absent father was the only logical explanation for your condition. All the more so that Deacon had said it was hereditarian. Though, having your father in your life wouldn’t have made you the woman you were now from what you’ve heard.

You were born and raised in Beacon Hill, as was your mother. Single child after your father left home, she raised you well to be a kind girl with a vast curiosity for things. Your mother had been a close friend to Claudia Stilinski and her husband from Stiles and your’s playdates in kindergarten, she worked with Melissa McCall at the hospital, though your mother was a doctor, not a nurse. On top of everything, she went to school with Peter Hale and Chris Argent, hooking up for a brief instant with the first, Peter had told you that first hand after discovering your origin. Therefore, you were bound to know Scott and Stiles, even Lydia Martin, though your mom didn’t really like her mother.

While being friends with both Stiles and Scott meant many things, though it mostly said that you had to help patch-up the stuff they’d messed up, you were not considered as one of the troublemakers. More like their mother to be honest. Stiles tended to forget eating, because of that, you found yourself doomed to put food in all of your bags. Scott wasn't the most prepared teenager, so you were affording his lacks most of the time, such as helping him study five minutes before a test and what-not. Lydia sometimes needed to hear things that her mother couldn't tell her. So you did it for her. You went from a group of friends to another like a butterfly. Everyone in the school knew your name.

At first, Scott didn’t want you to be involved in all these supernatural problems. Up until Derek asked if your dad was (Y/D/N). Derek was the one to tell you what you really were. A necromancer. After that, your role as the mother of the group just became more evident. You would drive the gang around when it wasn’t Stiles who was doing it, more often then not, Derek asked you to talk with him about the matters with Scott and Peter, because you were spiritually his age. Now, was that a compliment or an insult, you didn’t know. Then Scott and Alisson broke up, and things started to get weird for everyone. Your dreams were more vivid, sometimes happening during class or when you were driving. Lydia was a Banshee, Isaac Lahey was turned by Scott, and Scott became Alpha.

He would, in the beginning, call you to take Isaac home. He usually called you when matters were starting to get out of hands.

After Alisson’s death, when Isaac left, you remember feeling empty, as if something was missing, and you could only imagine what was Scott's feeling and thus understanding why he didn't want Liam or Mason near any troubles was. It soon became a habit of yours to bring them back home, even if Scott didn’t ask you to. During the years, Scott or Stiles would call you from any places at ungodly hours in the night. You scolded them often about their lack of safety, especially if they got hurt that night. And you would always be the only one to talk about school night and homework and eating correctly. You liked being able to say: 'I told you so!'. Most of the time,' Scott would back you up on the safety talk every chance he had. He wasn't any better than they were in the matter of safety, well, in the concern of his safety anyways.

Could you blame him? Not really, he didn’t ask for it after all, but at the same time, he wasn’t really doing anything to help his case. After the bite and his change. Then Allison's death, the Alphas, and Derek going from and to God know were. With everything that was going on, you could only try to help your childhood friend. Unlike Stiles, you weren’t human. Thought, unlike Liam, Kira or Lydia, your powers were not so developed that you could actually be helpful. You couldn't even spell charms to save your life or scream to kill your opponent. Your bite wasn't poisonous, you couldn't control the electricity or a sword for that matter. On top of all, you didn't even own a baseball bat. All you could do was talk to the dead, and you didn't really like doing so.

At first, it was because of the meaning of profanity behind the rise of the dead. Later it became because of the dreams you had because of them, then because of Allison. Your dreams held on her rising from the dead for months. Scott was with Kira at that time, but it didn't stop him from answering all your calls at outrageous hours and come to your house for a night in. Melissa had bet twenty bucks with Stiles' father that you would end up together. Your mom already owed her fifteen.

Parents were not the only ones taking bets about the two of you. Since Scott and Kira's breakup, Lydia and Stiles had many playful fights about your romantic status. Liam had even nicknames your mom and was using this to name you instead of your real name every chance he got.

''Tell mom this.'' ''Did mom do that?'' ''Where's mom?'' He was worse than a child.

Today as Stiles, Lydia, Scott, and you were studying for a test, things were going smoothly. Liam was in class with Mason. Somehow, you had obtained what you had asked for so long: a time of peace and quiet. Well, the silence was approximative as it was on the school ground, but it was still a peaceful moment. In one of your ears was playing an instrumental song. In front of you, numerous sheets of notes were expending. You had taken the trick from Stiles, but your structures of notes were less messy than his.

''(Y/N)'' Scott's voice made you lift your head suddenly. ''Do you have the notes from last history class?''

As the four of you were studying for the Mathematics test, you found it odd that Scott would want the last notes in history. More so because you remembered him being present in class that day. 'Yeah, I do, here. But it won’t help you with math...'' Scott only chuckled as he took your notes, not answering your point.

After school that day, Scott was taking you home on his scooter. You didn't have for a habit of accepting getting on because of the idea of getting killed. But your mom had driven you to school in the morning, so you didn’t have your car, and you didn’t like taking the bus, so you agreed. When Scoot first started riding his bike, you would bicker about his deficit of headgear. He only had one, and you were at least 75% sure that it wasn’t the safest one he had found. Unfortunately for you, Scott now had another one, basically with your name on it. The grey mass slowly moving in the sky helped convinced you to ride back home with Scott; it would rain before you would arrive home on foot. Homework was beginning to drown you under their weight, the year was slowly starting to end, and you could literally feel it. Melissa was working the night shift, and your mother was doing a double shift tonight.

Melissa was still home when you arrive at Scott’s, getting ready to leave. It wasn’t unusual for you to spend the night at the McCall’s or vice versa. She smiled at you before running back to her room.

''Lunch is in the oven.'' She called from upstairs ''Don't let it burn, please.''

''Mom, I won't!'' Scott responded, making his way toward the kitchen table, bringing you with him as he did. He let his schoolbag slide on the table, and you sat down next to him. Melissa came down to the kitchen and kissed her son's forehead. She then proceeded to kiss your hair as well. She grabbed her keys and left, but not before shouting her last goodbye for the night.

''You two have a good time studying!''

''Bye, Melissa!'' You shouted back before the door closed. The house fell silent, finally. As you turned to focus on your homework -you had them out of your bag as soon as you reached the table- but Scott’s eyes were on you. ''What?''

''Nothing, what do you want to start with?'' He questioned. Lifting your shoulders up, you just gestured toward the pile of books before you vaguely.

It was maybe an hour or so later, Scott and you had half-eaten your dinner now, still doing homework when your phone started to buzz like crazy. Calls and texts were harassing you fro every one of your friends as if the world was ending. But all of them were for the very same thing.

'Hey, have you seen Scott? He doesn't answer his phone!!' From Stiles.

'Can you tell Scott to look at his phone? Stiles’ starting to be very annoying.' From Lydia.

'Is Scott with you? We need him A.S.A.P.' From Kira.

'Hey, Mom, could you text Scott? We've been trying to contact him for a while, but he doesn't answer.' From Liam.

‘Need Scott, hes with you?’ From Malia.

As more text flowed in, you signed. You shoulder felted like iron bars as you let them dropped a little. Your heart was racing. What was it this time? Another Deadpool? A Nogitsune roaming free in town? A werewolf without a pack but surprisingly much more robust than it should be? Was it a witch wanting the power of a mythological tree again? You raised your eyes to Scott's.

''Look at your phone. You've been popular this evening.'' He seemed surprised, his brow nearly raising to the top of his head as he took out his telephone from his pocket. At the same time, Mason had managed to call you, and Scott's phone too was ringing. You answered your phone with a sigh as the boy next to you showed you the caller ID.

‘’Hey, Mom!’’ exclaimed Mason, seemingly relieved that you answer this time.

''Hey, Mason. Tell Stiles to stop calling, Scott’s right next to me.''

''Oh, okay, I’ll tell him!’’ there was a pause. ‘’Stiles! I’ve got (Y/N) on the phone, Scott’s with her!'' Mason's voice called, he echoed your message to what seemed to be Stiles. The ringtone of Scott's phone stopped a second later.

''What is it?'' Scott moved his hand, and you put your phone on speaker.

The words were coming out of the engine as if there was some distance between Stiles and Mason's phone, but you could still distinctly hear what he was saying. ''I should have called her, they're always together.'' Scott scoffed, Stiles' voice came in much more clearly.

'' Hey, you two! Uh, we're kinda having difficulties? I mean, you should really come to see this. It’s nothing like we’ve seen before...'' His tone seemed odd to you like he was trying to make it look less of a big deal than it really was.

''What do you mean?'' Scott asked. You took the now empty plates back to the sink int the kitchen. Scott was old enough to understand Stiles on his own anyway. And you didn’t mind missing half of the conversation anyway, you would follow him to where the others were having trouble anyway. It was always like that. And if you were to go out, who knew what time it would be when you arrive

to sleep, and in no way would you want to have to clean if that happened, so the plates were going in the sink now before it was too late.

As you let the water clean most of the stain of the food from the ceramic, you felt a cold breeze hit your skin tenderly. Your heart started to race. It was the first time a ghost appeared at Scott’s house. You slowly turned, trying with all of your might to make it seem as if you couldn’t see them. The man was standing tall behind you, his face was partially hidden by a shadow and blood was spotting on his clothes. You downed your eyes. Making it look as if you couldn’t see him at all. Clearing your throat, you called for Scott but heard nothing back. The sounds were slowly fading out, you knew what was going on but refused to accept it. Going into your little necromancer mind place wasn't really as attractive as it sounded. Your heart was racing, and your mind was running for anything that would anchor you to reality. Your breath was coming in short and leaving before it could have done his job to help the blood run through your veins. The man took a step to be closer to you.

His mouth opened, but it wasn’t words that came out of it. It sounded like wailing and a grunt at the same time. It was as if broadcast was continually cut off then switched on again. You figured that it was too late to ignore him anymore, so you looked at him the eyes. But there were no eyes to look at, only bloody holes oozing a black liquid out of them. The man was holding his hands high as if he wanted to grasp your shoulder. You closed your eyes, unable to move, your heart was racing, and you felt sick, the dinner in the back of your throat threatening to spill if you looked at the man any longer. You were ready to handle the ice-cold touch of the dead on you, but instead of it on your shoulders were hot and desperate hands that ended on your face.

“(Y/N)!”

You gasped for the air you had forgotten to inhale, your eyes wide open now. Disoriented -the waving of the furniture before your eyes weren't helping either- you soon realized that it was Scott's hand on your face, gently tracing patterns on your cheek to comfort you. Also, you were not standing in his kitchen anymore, you were laying on its floor. The fresh feeling that was the ceramic tiles on your neck was recomforting enough, you didn’t feel like vomiting anymore.

With some difficulties, you managed to sit up, Scott was all over you asking if you were okay. ''Yeah, I think so.'' Your head was turning as if you were sitting in a boat, but you didn’t have the seasickness that usually occurred when you were in a boat.

''What did Stiles want to talk about?'' you asked, trying to distract yourself from the memory of the eyeless man.

Scott hesitated a moment before telling you. ''Lydia found another body.'' His statement sent shivers down your spine, you felt nauseous. Through your shirt, you could see the frequency of your heartbeat.

''Do you want me to come with you?'' You asked. Scott looked at you as if he didn't want you to come. Even so, you ignored it and, with his help, rose on your feet. ''Liam and Mason didn't go home today, so they'll be hungry. Stiles will, too, because he's him. Maybe we should also bring covers? It's cold outside and-''

''(Y/N)'' Scott cut your ranting by setting his hand on your arm to prevent you from leaving the kitchen. ''Maybe you should just rest? I could call my mom too. You were unconscious on my kitchen's floor.''

''I'm fine now.'' You shrugged, trying to play it cool. He didn't look assured. When he still didn't let go, you huffed. ''Scott, can we just go?'' He sighed but compelled to your request. He left the room after placing a kiss on the crown of your hair. Borrowing a hoodie from his collection, you trailed after him, arms full of food and covers.

Lydia wasn't as shaken as she was the first few time she found dead people. However, she did take the blanket you were proposing to her. Liam was happily eating the pizza you had brought him while Mason was explaining in detail all of the things you had missed. Scott was talking about it with Stiles, Malia and Lydia on his side.

''- and then Lydia stopped moving and just took a deep inspiration and then started to scream!'' You nodded slowly. Since your arrival, you hadn't looked at the body that was lying there. Too scared to watch, no, you felt disgusted more than scared. The little you had seen of the body was close to the spectre you had encountered in Scott's house.

It was crazy to think that the man had been able to overpass your magical defences just to meet you. You weren't a defenceless child anymore like you were when Peter first came back. You understood your power much more now, but that was not something you've been able to explain to yourself. Mason was still ranting about how awesome it had been when Lydia screamed and brought them to the body when you cut him.

''It's late, boys. Didn't you had homework to do?''

Liam looked at you with pleading eyes, and Mason lowered his head.

''Seriously, guys! You need to stop that. School is important for your future, even if you don't like it.'' You had tried to level with them many times. You even talked about it with Isaac when Derek couldn't handle him, so he had to live with Scott. Liam lowered his eyes to the ground.

''Scott does it-'' You stopped him before he could finish his sentence.

''Scott took his responsibilities in hands. He tries his best to have good grades and does every single one of his homework. He didn't ask to become the Alpha, Liam.'' You took a breath before starting to talk once again, but with much less energy. ''While you don't have such responsibilities, try to take advantage of it. Plus, your mom will be worried if you don't go back home soon. I won’t cover for you his time.''

You and Mrs. Dumbar had made an agreement when Liam started to pass more and more time with Scott’s pack, you would take care of him. Unbeknown to her, you also made an agreement with Liam so that when he didn’t feel like going home, you’d cover for him saying he was staying at your house or that the gang was having a sleepover somewhere.

You turned your back from the boys but soon realized your mistake when the shadow you thought you had left behind came back in front of you. Your blood ran cold once more, and your head started to spin again. You closed your eyes. 'Go away, leave me alone.' You thought.

''(Y/N)?'' Malia's voice sounded so far away that you had difficulties hearing it. You opened your eyes. The ghost was nowhere to be seen, Malia was standing in his place. You smiled in her direction. ''Are you okay?''

''Of course.'' She looked at you with anxiety. You felt forced to continue. '' I just thought that I don't have my car. So I can't drive Liam and Mason home.''

''But-'' tried to intervene the two youngest only to find themselves being cut short.

''No, buts, you have homework to do and a future to plan.''

Scott made a movement with his head, and Stiles started to make his way toward his Jeep. ''C'mon, boys. Tomorrow will come in way too early anyway.'' Lydia sighed and followed him. She was holding Malia by her arm to make her walk too. Scott pushed Liam in the back to make him move in the direction of Stiles' car.

''I'll call my dad, you two better leave,'' Stiles called after starting his vehicle. Scott waved his hand.

''We will.'' He then looked at you, brow knitted in worry. ''You saw him?''

''Saw who?'' You tried to play it dumb. He didn't need to worry about you over everything there was for him to worry about.

''The man, (Y/N). Did you see him?'' His tone was not the one you could just ignore. He was worried and would become angry if you played it dumb again.

''Yes, from what I saw, it could have been him.''

''Did you saw him at my house too?''

How come he could know such things, he wasn,t even trying. You couldn’t get the words out of your mouth, it was as if your tongue had stopped working, so you nodded instead. The man was standing in front of your eyes. Your breath caught in your throat. ''I don't want to see him, Scott.'' You succeeded to choke out. ''He standing there, and he won't go away! ''

Scott's hand met your arm and brought you in a warm hug. ''Let's go home, we'll talk about it there.'' You nodded, closing your eyes.

#scott mccall x reader #Scott McCall #Scott Mccall imagine #x reader #Imagines #Teen Wolf #Teen Wolf imagines #Teen Wolf x Reader #dark #fluff #one-shot #werewolf

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