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#i know its well meaning and genuine curiosity but its still rude
teabutmakeitazure · 10 months
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University au fics are very sweet and fluffy and cute but also very yearn inducing
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lunatiqez · 11 months
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“LOSING ROWDY” — Texas McCormick
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PAIRING: Texas McCormick x reader
GENRE: romance
SUMMARY: After selling Rowdy and Toyota, Mason sends Texas over to your house to help him cool down.
WORD COUNT: 1.1k
A/N: my poor baby didn’t deserve to lose his horses‼️‼️ I feel so bad for him :(. Requested by anon & proofread by @mictodii !!
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TEXAS LOVED HIS HORSE. HE’D DO anything for that thing. So, when he called you saying Mason had sold not only his own, but also Tex’s horse, you were absolutely devastated for him.
“Mace— he s- he sold Rowdy! He sold Rowdy and Toyota, they’re both gone!” He said over the phone, his words pouring out like a spilled glass of water. You were so shocked that you didn’t respond.
“Y/N, Y/N are you there?” He asked you frantically.
“Yes, I’m here. I’m here for you.” You told him, he sighed softly.
“I’m gonna go find them— I’m gonna find them and I’m not coming back to this house till I do!” He raised his voice, you assumed it was because he wanted Mason to hear.
“Oh, c’mon, Tex…” you sighed. “Don’t do anything rash, please?” You asked him, knowing he’ll ultimately get himself or someone else in trouble.
But Tex was too stubborn to listen to anyone, even you. Especially when it came to his prized possessions.
“Tex, I’m telling you now, somethin’s gonna happen and either you’re gonna get hurt or go to juvenile detention.” You tried to talk him out of whatever he was gonna do, but he was quiet.
“Tex? Hello?” You asked through the speaker. Then the line went dead.
“God dammit, Tex!” You said in your mind as you slammed the phone back into its holder.
Without thinking, you rushed out your front door and to your farm truck, worrying for Tex. You started the car and rushed over to his house. On your way there, you noticed the green shirt he was wearing at school today along with Johnny and Jamie walking beside him.
“Tex!” You shout, this catches the attention of all three of the kids. You continue going past them for a while, and then turn around so you’re now all going in the same direction.
“Tex, babe,” you sigh.
“I told you! I ain’t going back till I find Rowdy.” He shouts at you. You sigh.
“Tex, why don’t I take Jamie back, an- and then we can talk about this, yeah?” Johnny asks.
“Don’t you three understand English?! Get lost!” Texas says as his fists close into tight balls.
Johnny and Jamie are taken aback, and, not knowing what to do, get on Johnny's dirt bike and ride off.
You, on the other hand, stay driving close by him, still trying to reason with the boy. He ran a hand through his hair anxiously and continued walking.
“Y/N, please, just let me find Rowdy, will ya?” He asked you, his tone less harsh than when Johnny and Jamie were there.
“Tex—“
“Please, Y/N. He’s my horse- he ain’t yours, he ain’t nobody’s but mine!” You sighed again, deciding that there was no winning in this argument.
“Okay, I love you.” You reminded him, driving off and going home feeling completely guilty.
A while after, there was no word from Tex. It was getting dark, so you went and sat on your couch to watch your nightly show. Then there was a knock at your door.
You walked over, hoping it was Tex, but instead you were greeted by his brother's face. Mason's hands were on his hips and his hair was messy, he looked as if he had just finished wrestling a greased pig.
“Hey, Mace, everything alright with you and Tex?” You asked him. Mason leaned against your doorframe.
“No, he just won’t listen to me. Won't even give me the time of day to explain to him.” Mason sighed.
“Well, you did sell his horse…” you said quietly. Mason glared at you. “Sorry.”
“He's just emotional right now. I mean, he’s had that horse since he was about 12.” Mason says as he rubs his temples.
“So, why are you here?” You ask— not to be rude, but out of genuine curiosity.
“He’s in the truck. I’m wonderin’ if you can get through to him. Y’know, see if you can try to explain why I had to do what I did.” You nodded immediately, agreeing to Mason’s favor.
You watched Mason walk over to the passenger side of his red truck and talk to Tex. Eventually, he got out of the truck and walked over to you, his head focused on the ground. He stood at your door, not saying anything.
“I’ll be back later to pick him up,” Mason called as he got into his truck. “Thank you.” You nodded slightly and, as Mace drove off, you let Texas in your house.
Tex walked over to your couch and sat down silently. You could tell this was really taking a toll on him. You sat down next to him and rubbed his back, quietly letting him know he’s going to be okay.
He leaned his head on your shoulder, sighing and closing his eyes instinctively.
“I’m so sorry, Tex.” You whispered.
“It’s—“ he hesitated. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. Just wish Pop was here.” You grabbed his hand and held it tightly.
“Let’s go to my room, huh?” You asked him, to which he nodded slightly. Luckily, your parents were gone for the week, so Tex could stay as late as he wanted to.
You took Tex to your room and had him lay down on your bed. You laid down with him, facing him. He held eye contact with you, the twinkle in his being more faint than it usually is. He gently placed your palm on his cheek, cupping it lovingly.
The two of you started a conversation about why Mason had to sell the horses and eventually led into Tex’s memories with Rowdy; how one time he thought there was a bear when it was really just a rabbit, and how another time he raced Johnny on his dirt bike and won, and how Rowdy hated baths— and so did Tex.
Eventually, the boy fell asleep. You didn’t, though. You stayed up and watched his peaceful chest rise and fall and rise and fall.
You were just about to drift off when, yet again, there was another knock on your front door. You carefully got out of bed so as to not wake Tex from your sudden moves.
When you opened the door, Mason was there once again.
“Hey, Mace,” you said. “Tex is sleeping right now, I can go wake him up if you want me to—“
“He is? Oh, alright then. Just leave him be. I’ll pick him up in the morning.” You smiled.
“Alright, goodnight Mason.”
“Night Y/N.. and thank you— for calming him down. I appreciate it.”
“Of course, I’d be crazy not to help Tex. I hope your pop comes back soon.” Mason nodded and then drove off.
With that, you went back into your room and fell asleep next to Tex.
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pepsi1 · 11 months
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Peepsi: Took you long enough, where were you?
"I think it's still happening but time is weird."
Peepsi: What?
"....................Ignore that. I was just... Just meandering, kinda trespassed but its whatever."
Peepsi: Well I used that time to learn. Look what I can do!
She creates a glowing light that lights the surrounding area like day, revealing two figures getting close
"You could do the same with flint, steel, and wood you know. Instead of magic."
Peepsi: I could but its magic! Genuine magic!
"Anything my sister teaches you is not genuine."
Frita: Your brotherly 'love' is not genuine. You're not even surprised I'm alive.
"Phoenix isn't here. He's only scared of you. Doesn't make me a genius to guess that you were."
Frita: ...He was my biggest threat. I couldn't keep him around waiting for you to show up from your 'business'.
"You should have, he likes seeing me in pain."
Peepsi: Pain
Bis: What do ya mean?
"Ask her, the blue fox. Master of cunning and deceit."
Frita: I'm not the only deceitful one here impostor. You are not my brother.
"You want to know the worst thing? I am your brother. I just don't care."
Frita creates a pyrotechnics show out of his guts and sets him aflame, having him become a fountain of neverending gore and blood for five minutes, keeping him from death. As it settles and he regenerates his body far too quick she speaks with anger in her voice.
Frita: MY BROTHER WOULD NOT STAND TO TAKE THIS TORTURE. HE WOULD NOT LOSE HIS PASSION OR CURIOSITY FOR EVEN THE MOST MUNDANE THINGS ON THIS PLANET. HE WOULD NEVER SEE THE LOGIC IN GIVING UP... HE... HE...
"I did give up."
Frita: ...No... No you didn't. You've convinced yourself that you've given up. You've convinced yourself that your robots stripped you of all pieces that made you, you...
Bis: I'm gonna fucking hurl. That was awful
Peepsi looked away the second Pepsi started bleeding profusely and is horrified
"It was. Her sad act of 'realization' is barely worthy of third place at a kid's talent show."
Bis: HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU BEING SO CASUAL ABOUT WHAT JUST HAPPENED TO YOU.
"Like I told her. I gave up. And Phoenix is capable of much worse so... eh?"
Frita: ...Why?
Pepsi barely acknowledges the whispered question and Peepsi finally gains the courage to speak.
Peepsi: M-m-miss Grimm... Can. Can you not be so violent with him.
Frita dismissively waves her off and grabs Pepsi by the neck and lifts him off the ground
Frita: IF YOU GAVE UP. WHY. WHY DO YOU CONTINUE TO WALK AND TALK. WHY ARE YOU NOT JUST SITTING IN THE RUBBLE OF A COLLAPSED CAVE. WHY. WHY DO YOU CHOOSE TO TORMENT YOURSELF WITH THE PROSPECT OF CHANGE?
"..."
Bis takes a pot shot at Frita's hand with his shotgun but the shot misses her completely and only startles her to let go of pepsi, now full of shot being healed out of him as he falls to the ground
Bis: Miss Grimm. My friend here made a request and you refused to listen.
Frita: You are on thin fucking ice and if I could hurt humans you'd feel the hell this bastard sibling of mine has gone through.
"You can't harm humans?"
Peepsi: You... You're aware he's been through hell?
Frita: ...I'm fucking leaving. Pepsi, Phoenix has made you a grandpa.
She disappears and branches can be heard snapping until they fade away
"Who are you two again?"
Peepsi: Your kidding, right?
"Time is still being weird to me... Uhhh... You're Pepsi Bismol and He's Peepsi right?"
Peepsi: Other way around. What did she mean Phoenix made you a grandpa?
"Don't care. If he wants to show me his creation then he'll seek me out."
Bis: You're a tad more rude than I remember.
"You'd be too if that bitch was your sister... Alright I guess I should teach you magic now that she's around..."
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I loved your vampire headcanons ,may I ask the same but whit Alastor?
Alastor with Vampire S/O
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As cliché as it may sound, in hell your either the predator, or your the prey.
And never in all his time in hell, had Alastor felt to be prey.
That was until he met you.
It was a simple afternoon, the sun having just set as Alastor strolling the streets, looking for something fun, or new.
And of course he'd heard the delectable rumours of some monster that was leaving a trail of bloodless bodies in your wake.
And so it was as he walked the streets he heard the distinct sound of blood hitting the pavement.
Now, you might ask, "Why Alastor, how do you know the specific sound of blood hitting pavement?"
Well, Alastor would probably give you some sort of criticism answer, and then maybe kill you. But only if he felt like it.
And so going to find the source of the sound, found two figures.
From this distance he couldn't quite make them out.
So moving closer, he witnessed you pulling your now bloody face from the corpse.
Dropping the now empty corpse, you wiped your mouth, an unnatural glow from your eyes as you turned to him.
Looking at him, you raised your nose, "You smell delightful." You told him.
Before he could respond, you disappeared, "Would you mind if I had a taste." He suddenly heard behind him.
Whipping around he found you standing rather happily behind him.
Now Alastor could respect a smile. And while he'd usually appreciate the delight in your face, the blood covering your face seemed to make him feel like a cornered animal.
So with a smile of his own, he politely refused, telling you he much preferred keeping it within his body.
You had a surprisingly witty back and forth, although the more you spoke, the more it became clear he was on the Back foot.
Although, the more you spoke, the less it became predator talking to prey. And more like you playfully getting to know him.
It was a strange but subtle shift, with you asking him more questions past just things involving the red liquids flowing through his veins.
After some more back and forth you agreed to let him live, something Alastor only took half seriously.
In a almost paranoia inducing moment, you disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Youd have a few meetings like this, Alastor finding you just after sunset, always feeding.
The two of you having a similar conversation, beginning with you politely asking for his blood and eventually ending with you having a just as polite conversation.
It got to a point where youd see him and not even really try to drink his blood.
I mean youd try to persuade him, but it was more so just playful banter at this point. And honestly you were mostly just doing it out of tradition.
Once you discovered his want for stimulus. The demon just wanting something exciting, you invite him along for one of your little feedings.
The radio demon found a morbid curiosity in watching you hunt and toy with your prey.
It was like something from one of those nature shows, the demon usually choosing a high perch to watch the hunt.
Occasionally playing a part, but only if he thought it'd be interesting.
He found something so... exhilarating in seeing you act as a preditor, the sight sending a foreign sensation through his body.
There was a particular moment, the two of you in were walking the street, when Alastor mentioned how nothing interesting had happened as of late.
Acknowledging his statement you told him to hold that though. And then you promptly stepped in front of a giant semi truck, being pancaked in an instant.
It was all so sudden, so shocking Alastor couldn't help but burst into a laugh. The moment so sudden he couldn't even explain why he found it funny.
So after draining the semi-drivers, you strolled back, your clothes bloody and in tatters. All the while acting like nothing had happened, something that amused him to no end.
Your relationship became... unique.
You quickly become surprisingly close, so much so, you were one of the few being he could say he genuinely liked being around.
And much to his confusion, he found himself craving your attention, wishing to be with you even while doing something he'd normally find entertaining.
It came to a head when you showed up infront of his house one night.
Alastor asking why you were here, you just wondering if he'd invite you in.
Alastor again asked you why you were there, you again, asking to be invited in.
This is when the gears in Alastors head turned, him openly wondering why you were so insistent on being Invited in.
You played it off, telling him you weren't rude enough to just barge into someone's home. A total lie.
But Alastor knew enough to be smart about it, and quickly figured out you needed to be invited in, a rule that only seemed to work some of the time.
So, inviting you in, you had a little look about his home, giving the occasional compliment.
However as he asked why you were really there, you turned to him, a glint in your eye.
A predatory glint, much like the one youd had upon your first meeting.
You stalked him like an animal, pinning him to the wall, pressing your body against his own.
Alastor probably could have escaped, used some of his immense demonic powers to get you off of him.
But he didn't. There was a part of him, a primal, instinctual part of him, that liked having you so close.
So when you openly told him you found him intoxicating, and you knew he wanted to be with you, even if he hadn't fully realised it.
The usually chatty demon found himself utterly tongue tied, completely unable to think of what to say.
So he just nodded, silently agreeing to your point.
With his admittance, you leaned forwards, locking him in a rather chast kiss, but one still filled with passion.
Alastor felt like prey, not in the way a cat looks at a mouse, but in the way a preditor would look at its mate.
He was yours, and frankly he didnt care to change that.
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My Little Physician Empress ~ Yin Zhen x Reader
Just a story in which reader, a regular girl, was allowed since very young to aid her father in being a Royal Physician, and helped the princes through the years without asking for anything in return.
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Since ancient times, views on physician women have been distorted times and times again - Sometimes they are shamans, other times they are witches, and oftentimes, they simply don't deserve to live, no matter how many lives they save, or how capable they are.
Even now, in Qing dynasty, there is stigma, and all the physicians in the palace are men.
But that will soon change when, one day, a Physician from outside the palace is able to come up with a proper cure for the plague that was rampaging the people and somehow, found its way inside the palace too, and he was rewarded handsomely - He was awarded a wish granted - Any wish he wanted.
And that was to have his daughter allowed to aid him in his work inside the palace. He explained how his daughter played around with concoctions one day, and somehow gave him the brilliant idea for a revolutionary cure, and with this story, the Emperor indulged the old man and got them both in the palace.
They didn't earn a lot of money, but it was enough for them to dress appropriately with living in the palace. The girl never got any kind of accessory, so she mainly held her hand in a simply braid, occasionally put some flowers in it, and was ready to go on with the day in aiding her father.
But she was always a curious little girl, and very often, she went outside to play and discover every nook and cranny around the palace - Which is when she met the fourth prince - Not that she knew, though.
She held some struggling and splashing in the water one night, and saw a eunuch running away. Upon investigating, she saw a child who wasn't trashing around anymore, and he was about her age. She jumped in the lotus pond, getting him to the surface and, after opening his jacket, she pressed on his chest between his lungs and leaned in to give him the kiss of life.
As expected, the boy then jolted in a sitting position and started coughing, before falling into her arms once again, exhausted.
"How are you feeling?" she asked in a gentle voice, her hand on his cheek to get his attention. "Fine...I'm better now...Whoever pushed me is going to get killed, I'll make sure of that." the boy was angry, and rightfully so. He tried to get up, but was still wobbly, so the girl helped him go back to his room, letting him lean on her side. "It was an Eunuch. I saw him running away from the pond after you got underneath the water." she told him what she saw. "Now that I think about it...Who are you? I've never seen you around the palace, have I?" he asked suspiciously. "Don't be suspicious of the person who saved your life. I am Y/N, daughter of the Royal Physician who came up with the cure for the plague." she explained in a gentle manner. "Figures. Then, that means you know who I am, don't you?" he scoffed lightly. "Uh...No, not really. Should I?" she tilted her head a little to the side. "You don't? They why did you save me?" he asked, even more confused now. "...Because you were dying?! Did you notice that? Was I supposed to let you die there? Tell me, I can quite literally drag you back to the pond and throw you back if you want? I will ask for you name first and only then rescue you." she scolded him in disbelief at his ungratefulness. "No. No, you're right. Anyway, thanks for saving me. How did you save me? I know I blacked out as some point, right?" he said, and with all the nonchalance in the world, she answered. "I gave you the kiss of life." this answer made the boy stop in his tracks, yelling at her. "YOU DID WHAT?! That’s... That’s improper! I will have you flogged and caned for that! You’re a woman, and I’m a man, and we are both unmarried, it’s... It’s...!" he gaped at her in horror. "You do realise you stopped breathing, don't you? And if I didn't get you breathing again, your heart would have stopped. If your heart stopped pumping, blood wouldn't have gone everywhere in your body, to all your organs, therefor you would have gotten a total system failure in less than 10 to 15 minutes. That means, for idiots like you who don't value life, that you would have died if I didn't do that." she rolled her eyes at him, dragging him inside the pavilion, where lots of eunuchs and maids fussed over him. "Su Peisheng! Reward this maid handsomely, she saved my life." the little boy said - He must be one of the princes, the girl thought, amused. "No thanks. I saved your life, that's all. You yelled enough at me, I don't want anything from you anymore. Next time I try to save your life, remind me to ask you your name first and only then ask consent to save your life." the girl rolled her eyes at him, thinking him hypocritical, and turned around to go home, only to have the boy catch her wrist immediately. "Then, ask for anything, and I'll give it to you." he said, very seriously. "Fine. I'm not a maid, I'm a Female Physician, therefor you must address me properly from now on. Physician Y/N. Got it?" her voice was authoritarian, but she didn't inspire malice or evil, and it quite amused the young prince. "Very well. Until we meet again, Physician Y/N." and thus, making her smile softly, she left the place with a nod of Goodnight. "Su Peisheng." the boy called out his eunuch one again. "What do Physician girls like?" he asked, almost innocently. "Forgive me, Your Highness, this one does not know, for there have not been female physicians in the palace before. However, girls usually like feminine things like clothes and accessories. Miss Y/N wasn't wearing any, as far as I saw." the eunuch provided the young prince with the information. "I see...Very well. Tomorrow, you will send some red agate earrings to her. Make sure you give them to her directly." the boy ordered his slave, who nodded in agreement.
However, the next day, the eunuch returned as he left - With the gift box in his hands and endless apologies. "Miss Y/N wanted me to inform you never to gift her...To quote her...Useless things. Pardon my rudeness, Your Highness, I am merely telling you her words. She said that expensive earrings won't help her save lives. I tried to convince her, but she threatened to throw them in the pigstry." the eunuch kowtowed to the ground in front of the young prince, only for him to raise him up and chuckle in amusement. "Don't worry, it's fine. I'll just bring them to mother and ask her for advice. This is no ordinary girl I'm dealing with."
And this way, his mother advised him to find rare healing-related books, even more so, from the West, and gift them to her. She immediately accepted them, and Yin Zhen often found the mysterious girl reading by the wisteria tree, unbothered by anything and anyone.
The 4th prince often looked at her and got reminded of his annoying 3rd prince brother, but at least she wasn't so obsolete and dissolute like him.
He would find her occasionally swinging in the Apricot garden, where it was mostly quiet and very few people visited, and even so, he would often hear her practicing flute-playing.
The next Prince she met was, to Yin Zhen’s entertainment and slight jealousy, was the 3rd Prince, Yin Zhi, as she was delivering medicine to one of the Imperial Concubines, the foreign melodious tune of an instrument she has never heard of before, and as expected, her curiosity led her directly to this Prince who seemed just a bit older than her, standing under a tree and practicing said instrument.
The girl could only stay there in awe, the wonderful melody taking over her senses and imagination, only for a sudden screech to destroy everything, making her yelp in shock. The jerk of a Prince made the bow unceremoniously scratch the violin’s strings, making a God Forsaken ear-bleeding noise.
“Hope you enjoyed that as well, stalker.” the prince sneered at her, but to his surprise, she merely chuckled. “Wonderful how such an elegant instrument can create hellish sounds in the wrong hands. Only someone hardworking, dedicated and with grace can play this instrument. You are a Prince, aren’t you?” she leaned on the tree, a knowing smirk on her face. “If you figured that out, then why aren’t you bowing to the ground right now?” the aggressiveness displayed in his voice and words seemed to contradict his actions as he sat down at the table, where neatly drawn blueprints and parts to be engineered with. “I can accept the consequences of my mistake and I even won’t protest, should you want to take my head off, should you be so kind as to explain to me the process of building this wonderful instrument. It is a Western one, is it not?” she sat down next to him, analysing the papers carefully. “What would some lowly maid like you know of Western technology? Why should I waste my time on you?” he scoffed, looking down at her. “Do you not find sharing such groundbreaking information with someone genuinely interested to be rather... Enlightening? From my short stay here, in the Palace, I have found out that the 2nd Prince is rather dissolute and promiscuous, but at the same time, a very intelligent and lonely person who cannot interact with others. From the looks of it, you simply have completely different aspirations and interests, while your brothers are solely interested in this Game of Thrones, and you cannot possibly have a proper, intellectual conversation with them. Correct me if I’m wrong, however, and I will leave you alone.” that vixen-like smile on her face made the Prince want to strangle her and wipe that stupid smirk off her face for daring to figure him out so well. At the same time, however, he hasn’t felt so challenged in his life and frankly, this little maid could prove to be more interesting than expected. “I’ll have you thrown to the Office of Punishments should you dare bore me at any time after the cheeky, daring stunt you pulled. Now, you better be paying attention to every word I am about to tell you, I hate repeating myself for dumb airheads, understood?” his voice was serious and mature, especially for someone his age, but that only meant that Y/N had what to learn from him, and for that, she was grateful. “I swear to do my best and keep up with your intellectual explanations, so please, do be patient with me for I am very grateful for the time you are taking out of your schedule to teach me.” she bowed her head to him, and thus, with a soft huff, the Prince began explaining the to the girl about the peculiar instrument in his hands. “This is called a Violin, and this is called a Bow. As you guessed, this instrument was created in the West, from a country called “Italy”, in an unknown date from the 16th century. Although paintings from back then show the Violin had 3 strings, now, as you can see, it has four...” and so, he continued by showing her the component parts of the violin both on the instrument, and on the blueprints, only for him to, in the end, gift her the ink drawing he made of the original blueprint, as a way for her to promise to continue studying on her own too.
There were many other Royal Princes and Princesses, but many weren’t as interesting as the 3rd and 4th Prince who, quite frankly, were a force to be reckoned with. While Yin Zhi would teach her how to build a clock, or show her interesting literature, Yin Zhen would be adamant in taking her horse-riding and, surprisingly, he was rather interested in her healing knowledge, thus why, he would always acquire the rarest books from all over the world and, instead of giving them for the Physicians to learn, he would gift them to this lovely maid whose company he loved so much.
Time passed quickly, they got older, both Y/N and her father rapidly advanced in their ranks thanks to their revolutionary treatments that cured every illness, and the princes all grew into fine men - Which meant that the true Game of Thrones began for everyone in the palace, not just them.
The first to go down was the Crown Prince who, as Y/N discovered, had ricing powder put in his food. “It is quite simple, and unfortunately, incredibly deadly, even in small doses. All you need is the beans from a castor oil plant, you make them into powder and... You’ve got one of the deadliest poisons there are. My only guess is, it would have to have been someone from the Imperial Kitchens who could do such a feat because, if the powder was put on the dishes after being prepared, it would still be mildly visible, whereas if it was put in a big pot, it would get homogenized and thus, leave no visible or taste trace.” Y/N explained in front of the Emperor, standing poised and ignoring all the other many eyes staring at her. “I have heard many times of ricin, but none was ever brave enough to dare bring it into the Palace, especially after I have forbidden any dish to be made with Castor oil! For the poison to act, one administration was enough?” Emperor Kangxi asked, rage and sorrow evident on his face. “No, Your Majesty. I imagine that the culprit played it smart and only added small doses of ricin powder in His Highness’s food, but regularly. I have read the Medical Files from the Bureau of Imperial Physicians and I have noticed that His Highness was complaining of an upset stomach, difficulty in breathing, occasional coughs that turned bloody over time and spiking fevers - Again, all over a rather long period of time. If the culprit were to use a large dose of powder, the Princes wouldn’t have been able to finish all the food from the plate and, therefor, the Ricin would have been tenfold easier to detect. In this situation, however, small doses meant nobody would believe His Highness got sick because of the food, because of his healthy appetite, hence why he was treated symptomatically for unrelated, yet very possible diseases.” the Female Physician went on further with the deduction, which angered the Emperor even further. “These jackals won’t even allow my sons to eat anymore! From now on, every meal will have to be tested before any person from the Royal Family eats it. Find the culprit immediately!” the Emperor thundered, his voice echoing throughout the Hall of Mental Cultivation. “Your Majesty, if I may... Ricin cannot be detected with silver, and if it is put in hot meals, it wouldn’t be traceable anymore. There is no way to detect it. While ingesting the poison is admittedly the least toxic pathway into the human body... Even with a small dose, it starts to cause internal damage in as little as 6 hours after ingesting. In regular doses, death can occur in a maximum of 3 days, which means, to my understanding, that His Highness may have started being poisoned a week ago at most.” the girl spoke confidently, but also with a tint of reticence. “Are you trying to tell me there is no way of detecting the culprit?!” the man rose up from his throne, pointing his finger at her. “On the contrary. With the grace and cooperation of His Highness, the 4th Prince, a small pouch of herbs mixed with ricin powder was found in the pockets of one of the eunuchs helping at the Imperial Kitchens. That is to say... If the truth comes out that this eunuch was the one who put the powder in the food... We need a testimony and evidence that would point towards the mastermind behind this operation of regicide. His Highness was the Crown Prince and a mere eunuch wouldn’t be affected in any way by the future Emperor, however that may be, but someone who could benefit in having another candidate on the throne would get actively involved in working from the shadows...” she didn’t dare move her sight from the furious Eye of Heaven, no matter how much she wanted to avert her eyes and look at the Prince, begging to be taken away from there because the tension was crushing. “Yin Zhen!” calling out his son’s name, he stepped next to Y/N, bowed and knelt next to her. “The two of you did good in solving this crime. From now on, the two of you shall continue unmasking the truth of this mystery and bring justice to my son, the Crown Prince, got it? No matter who it is, I will have them punished!” the Emperor’s last command was abided by the two of them bowing to the ground and calling out their responses - “Yes, Your Majesty!”
And thus, the Hall of Mental Cultivation was cleared and the two people in cause walked away, looking at each other and letting out sighs of relief.
“Let’s not do that again.” the girl managed to mutter, putting the back of her hand to her forehead, exhausted from the trial. “You’re tired just from this? I was expecting a lot worse.” the Prince smirked at her, seeing her roll her eyes. “Yes, well, the Royal Family business isn’t for me. I’m fine just healing people and studying. It’s actually relaxing, you should try that once in a while.” she nudged him softly, only for him to stop in his tracks. “What if I tell you I want you to join the Royal Family.” he crossed his arms, looking at her with a playful expression. “I’d tell you... You’ve lost your mind... And that nobody would agree to something like this. I suppose I should remind you that... I am a commoner and you are, and I hope it doesn’t come as a shock to you, not only the Prince but... A very strong candidate at being the next Crown Prince.” she shook her head in amusement. “Father wants to promote you to Noble Lady Shuyu.” he refuted immediately. “Having ‘Noble’ in a title does not make you of noble birth. Don’t make it difficult for either of us, Yin Zhen. Not to mention, you would be doing me a great disservice by marrying me.” she explained, cautiously looking around for any prying eyes. “How is giving you a life of unlimited luxuries means I’m doing you a disservice?” he stepped closer to her, holding her hands to his chest. “I am jealous, first of all. Even if I am to be your main wife, which, by the way, is impossible, you would still need to have a huge amount of concubines because that is the life of a Duke and/or the Emperor, should you actually get the title. That doesn’t exactly sit amazingly well with me to begin with... And that also means I’m not exactly the most Virtuous, Selfless and King Empress that everyone would want the woman holding this title to be. That and... If I marry into the Royal Family, I won’t be able to continue my Physician work, and I will only have to stay inside a stupid, but nicely furnished palace, with tons of servants to do whatever the hell I want and many more other women who will be jealous of me and will plot to kill me. Ah, yes and the unfortunate case of you getting bored of me for a younger girl, when we get older, but that’s just that.” she got her hands back, and smiled at him sarcastically. “You’re an impossible woman, you know that, right? If you do, you should also know that, for you, I would give up the title of Crown Prince. If I am a duke, then it shouldn’t matter if I marry one woman alone, and whether or not she continues her hobby of healing people in a palace far away from the Forbidden City, where there would be no envious eye that would wish you harm. How does that sound.” his words were soft and gentle, and with every sweet word, he could see the girl’s defenses lowering down, bit by bit. “You would be an idiot to turn down the title you worked so hard for, especially after this perfect opportunity has just knocked on our doors. Don’t be stupid, Yin Zhen. I can still love you even if we are not legally married. Listen, we both know the 2nd Prince is the culprit, right? Him and his lousy mother of his, who wants to become the next Empress. I have a plan to take both of them down, and if we succeed, your place on the throne is automatically... But we have to be very smart about it. Very, very smart. Are you in?” she turned to look at him, as he stepped very close to her, cupping her face and kissing her forehead. “Since when have you become so scheming?” he asked, proud and amused. “Since I have a reason to win.” she winked at him, putting her hand on his face so he could lean down and hear the plot.
Months passed, and Y/N has been as busy as ever taking care of the women of the Harem since Imperial Concubine Yu was pregnant and the Empress, the late 1st Prince’s mother, protectively took her under her wing, while the sole Female Physician was to take care of her.
Thankfully, every plan was set in motion and time flew so fast, it was unexpected that 9 months already passed and the Concubine was ready to give birth already. Unfortunately for her, the Empress, along with the Empress Dowager, were away to pray for Buddha, and thus, the Noble Consort was now the most powerful woman in the Harem, and able to take decisions in place of the Empress.
As Y/N helped the Concubine give birth, to her shock, she realised the baby was very much yellow - But not only the little prince’s body, but his eyes as well. It caused a lot of shock and stir ups... But the unfortunate timing of arrival of the Noble Consort was enough to grab the baby from the midwife’s hands and toss is carelessly to the eunuchs who was digging a hole in the backyard of the Empress’s palace, to bury the infant alive, while the poor Concubine mother was frantically trying to escape the grasp of the eunuch keeping her away so she could rescue her baby.
But it was in vain, and no matter how much the mother begged, the Consort was absolutely ruthless. She was digging into the dirt, trying to rescue her child, but all of the Empress’s maids were uselessly staring, frightened and very much afraid for their lives.
Smartly, Y/N went inside the Empress’s palace and took her seal - As she ran back to the scene of the crime and yelled at the Consort to end this mess.
“The golden seal of the Empress is here! Enough of this mess! Yes, the infant has golden eyes, but the truth is, this might just be a medical problem, and we cannot know for sure if it is not investigated! Under such context, we must wait for Her Highness the Empress to make the decision! Noble Consort, I have begged you again and again to cease your actions, but I have no other way of stopping you. Seeing this golden seal is like seeing Her Highness the Empress herself, whether the 17th Prince is indeed sick, and how Noble Lady Yu should be dealt with, we must all wait for the decree of Her Highness the Empress. Any other person isn’t allowed to take any arbitrary action!” as Y/N glared angrily at the Noble Consort, showing off the Imperial Box that was hiding the Empress’s seal, the well known voice of the Eunuch announcing his Majesty’s arrival resounded through the place. “What happened?” the Emperor asked, followed by the 2nd, 3rd and 4th  Princes. “Greeting His Majesty. Your Majesty, the little prince was born with golden pupils. His whole body is yellow. The Empress isn’t in the palace. I’m enforcing the palace law on her behalf. I was just about to punish the mother and child, but who knew that the servants of Changchun Palace would publicly stop me.” the Consort threw a shady look at the Physician. “Your Majesty, I dare not hinder Noble Consort in implementing the law. It’s just that Her Highness the Empress repeatedly instructed that we all must protect Noble Lady Yu. Before the Empress returns, no one is allowed to make punishments without permission. Moreover, whether the little prince is indeed sick or not, as a Physician, I must advise everyone not to make conclusions based solely on what we see. There was no time for me, or any of my colleagues to check the health of the little prince, therefor, this may all just be an unfortunate misunderstanding, not a bad omen. The action of Her Highness the Noble Consort is too hasty.” Y/N confidently explained the problem for the Emperor. “You wench, how dare you speak ill of my mother?!” the new Crown Prince, the 2nd Prince, rushed forward to slap the girl’s face angrily. “Father, there is nothing impossible in this vast world. I, who has been studying various Western practices would know that what we may consider impossible or strange, other would deem normal, and vice versa. It may just be as the Female Physician says - That the 17th Prince’s golden pupils are just because of some strange illness that, if treated, will disappear.” the 3rd Prince stuck up to the girl. “Your Majesty, my child surely has some weird illness! I beg you, Your Majesty, I beg you to immediately have him treated.” the mother’s pleas melted the Emperor’s heart. “Li Yu.” the Emperor called out his head eunuch. “Call the Imperial Medical College for a consult. And find out if Physician Y/N’s father returned from his trip abroad.” and thus, the Emperor called everyone in cause once again to the Hall of Mental Cultivation to hear the testimonies and make a decision.
Two elder doctors came inside the Palace and reported their explanations to the Emperor, while the poor, desperate mother was thrown out of the room so she could calm down and stop shrieking.
“I’ve seen a lot of babies with yellowish faces, but I’ve never seen a case where the pupils are also golden yellow.” one of them explained. “Is there no way to cure him?” Yin Zhen asked the Physicians. “This is not an illness, so there is no way to cure it. There is no such thing as a child with golden pupils in this world.” Physician Zhang answered adamant. “I know Your Majesty is unwilling to do it, but if we don’t resolve it today, if the sun rises tomorrow, the news that a Noble Lady of the Forbidden Palace has given birth to a child with golden pupils will spread to the empire as if it has wings. I fear that people will be in panic and it will be hard to handle the consequences. Hence, I hardened my heart, all for Your Majesty’s sake, for the Qing Empire. Even if everyone will blame me for it, I won’t mind. Your Majesty, why are you still  hesitating?” the dead silence that followed was, as if on cue, disturbed by the baby’s cries. With a hurried smile, Y/N hurried to take the baby in her arms and kneel in front of the Emperor. “Your Majesty, look! Although the little prince is yellowish all over, his cry is very strong! Your Majesty, he is a live person and he is connected with Your Majesty by blood! How could you kill him so easily?!” Y/N spoke quickly, hoping to appeal to the Emperor’s soft heart strings. “Isn’t the Empress to kind? Indulging a mere physician to act like this? When your masters are talking, how could you interfere?!” the Noble Consort harshly reprimanded the girl. “I recognize my mistakes, however, as a Physician myself, while it is true that I do not know everything in this world, I can also say that I had my fair share of travelling, albeit, not as much as my father. The yellowing of the body may as well be jaundice, especially if we take into account the severity of the colour. In some texts that I have read, it is said that, on rare occasions, if the jaundice is severe, it may even affect the colour of the eyes. Your Majesty, I have no reason to work against anyone. My work is to heal people, which is why I am fighting so hard to save this child - Not only because he is Your Majesty’s child, but because all lives must be treasured and treated with great importance. If this child is sick and I can cure him, than I have done my purpose in life.” the girl gritted her teeth, trying to control herself. “Father, can’t you see you’ve been indulging this wench for far too long? You give a common wench a helping hand, and now look how unruly and disruptive she is! Speaking back to her superiors! Shameless!” the Crown Prince growled at the girl who was incriminating his mother. “Father, if I may - As Physician Y/N said, all of our Imperial Physicians have been working only inside the palace for so long. If a strange illness occurs, they may have no knowledge of that, perhaps even outside of the usual textbooks. If I understood correctly, Y/N father has returned to the palace just yesterday, perhaps his opinion will be of use, should this simply be a case of misdiagnosis.” the 4th Prince quickly defended her. “Nonesense! Could a distinguished Imperial Physician of the Imperial Medical College have less knowledge and experience than a common maid like you with no proper training or education?” Physician Zhang scoffed at her. “Your Majesty, although I’m well-versed in children’s illnesses, there is nothing truly impossible in this vast world. Maybe there are still a lot of strange illnesses that I’ve never had a chance to be in contact with. Many Physicians tried to get rid of the plague, but only Physician Liyue was able to do it, a common man from outside the Palace with no former education. Just because we haven’t seen it, doesn’t mean it can’t exist.” Physician Yang spoke modestly. “Physician Yang, are you old and muddled?! A matter that you yourself isn’t sure of, you dare report it to His Majesty?! If a problem indeed occurs, a natural calamity or a human-made disaster, can you bare the crime? No. Your Majesty, this concerns the fortune of the Qing Empire. You mustn’t be soft-hearted.” the Noble Consort quickly responded as harsh as ever.
However, just as she said that, Y/N’s father clumsily stepped inside the room and knelt next to his daughter, greeting the Emperor who, in haste, told him to check the child.
In doing so, he merely smiled and said the same diagnosis as his daughter did.
Jaundice.
“Can’t be. Not like I haven’t seen jaundice in children before.” Physician Zhang refuted immediately. “That’s because you are lacking in knowledge. Your Majesty, this jaundice, even if it’s not treated, the little prince would recover within 7 days. This illness is pathological and related to the bile of the expectant mother. It is usually connected with the pregnant mother having too much accumulation of bile.” the father explained. “Your daughter gave the same diagnosis.” the Emperor muttered. “Can it be cured?” “Your Majesty, don’t worry. If I prescribe a formula to reduce the jaundice, in less than 2 weeks, the 17th prince’s jaundice will subside.” and thus, the Emperor ordered to have the child be treated with care...And the Consort changed sides as much as her face changed instantly.
And thus, the Emperor forgave the Consort and had this matter be banned from being talked of...Until the 4th Prince spoke up.
“Father, before we leave, I had urgent news to speak to you about, and they concern the Noble Consort.” the Prince left his father’s side and stepped in front of him, next to Y/N. “Is this about your brother’s death?” the Emperor’s face became grim as soon as he saw the nod of the prince’s head. “Very well, speak.” “Su Peisheng, have the body brought in.” the Prince ordered. “Noble Consort, you are not afraid when you kill a man, so why are you afraid when you see a corpse?” the Prince asked, simply, as he took off the sheet to show off the man’s face. “Do you not recognise him? Or perhaps, your son does?” the Prince interrogated the indignant woman. “What are your implications, Yin Zhen?!” the Crown Prince stomped in front of his brother. “Your Mayesty, this is the Mongolian chef from the Imperial Kitchen. While he is also the one who cooked food for Noble Lady Yu, he is also the one who prepared the daily Mongolian treat that the 1st Prince enjoyed so much.” Yin Zhen spoke up confidently. “That’s right... Your Majesty, I have taken care of Noble Lady Yu since the beginning of her pregnancy, and pretty early on, Noble Lady Yu was gifted Mongolian scones from her hometown. She loved them so much, I imagine she ate quite a lot. She said she had no idea there was a Mongolian chef in the Palace and she was incredibly happy to see that she could eat her home food after so long. She would eat three pieces every day - At least that’s what I saw, if she ate more when I wasn’t supervising her, I cannot know.” the Physician girl explained as she stood up, tall and ready for action. “Your Majesty, I had these scones be brought here as well.” the 4th Prince spoke and a scone was given to Y/N’s father. “Do you know what they are made of?” her father asked as he took a bite. “I believe milk was added to the dough, or ghee to the skin. She also ate assorted confectionary to replace staple food.” Y/N told her father. “Yes, I understand. Your Majesty, the child contracted jaundice mostly because the mother’s body is moist and hot, so the bile gets accumulated. I usually advise pregnant women to watch their food intake and not to eat too much sweet, hot and unpleasant smelling food, to prevent damage to the spleen and stomach.” Physician Liyue explained. “Ah, I understand. I didn’t give it much thought because Mongolian women are used to eating these things, but since she’s been away from home for so long, her body adjusted to our food, so naturally, getting a large intake of food from home again made her body react as ours would.” Y/N nodded in understanding. “Very well, so we have found out the truth behind the Prince’s illness. Now, Yin Zhen, tell me about the body. Who killed him.” the Emperor urged his son to speak. “We just have to look at who wanted the 17th Prince buried alive the most and we will know. And on who benefits the most in having our 1st Prince brother killed.” Yin Zhen explained. “That man is dead, brother. On what bases are you accusing me and my mother?” the Crown Prince sneered at his younger brother. “Your Majesty, the 17th Prince was just born, he is just an innocent child. Why would anyone want him dead? Unless... Someone didn’t want him to be born safely to begin with. Carefully thinking about it, since Noble Lady Yu got pregnant, Her Highness the Noble Consort has repeatedly made things difficult for her. First, using her dog to cause her trauma at the Imperial Gardens, and then repeating the same feat at the Lychee banquet organized by Her Highness the Empress. When Noble Lady Yu gave birth, the first person to charge in Changchun Palace was also Her Highness the Noble Consort. She insisted on having the 17th Prince buried alive. To say that this matter has nothing to do with her, it’s really hard for anyone to believe that.” Y/N accused the Consort, only to be, once again, slapped by her son. “Father, this is a conspiracy, don’t listen to the lies of this servant! It is a plot made to frame me and my Royal Mother!” the Crown Prince desperately tried to defend himself. “Father, if this is a conspiracy, why then everyone else asked for a Physician to be brought and inspect the 17th Prince’s condition, while only the Noble Consort alone was so adamant in killing the child?” Yin Zhen struck again. “Not to mention, even when Noble Lady Yu went up to her to stop her, she didn’t spare her. Instead, she ordered her to be killed along with the child. If she truly had no intention to kill, why was she so hasty and resolute?” Y/N chimed in quickly. “Your Majesty, you cannot sentence myself or the Crown Prince merely just based on a corpse and some speculations! This person is dead, who knew if someone else forced him to kill himself as to frame me and my son?” the Noble Consort shrieked desperately. “Father, when I sent my men to the Imperial Kitchen, they discovered one letter written in blood and 20 taels of gold. It shows that this person had sensed that something bad would happen to him. Father, look for yourself at the evidence left behind.” and thus, the eunuch brought forth a messy letter and the Prince showed it to the Emperor -” 'The person who will silence me will surely be the Crown Prince’ - And with this, father, we found a small pouch of Ricin laying on top of it. It means that the culprits behind these two crimes that we thought unrelated are, in fact, mother and son.” the 4th prince explained, picking up the pouch as well. “Wh-What?! What is this madness? I would ever use such a stupid servant to kill my brother!” the Crown Prince yelled out, but it was in vain. “Not only that, testimonies from the Office of Punishments came out. The men from the Imperial Kitchens that were involved in either of these crimes, all ratted out their mastermind and all point out towards either Noble Consort or the 2nd Prince.” the Prince continued, and the atmosphere in the place was harder and harder to bear. “Your Majesty! Your Majesty, it really wasn’t like this! I really didn’t know! I’m being framed! Framed! Me... My son...! We’re being framed!” the Consort tried to beg, plea and weep, but nothing worked. “ENOUGH! I don’t want to hear any more explanations from you. You killed my beloved son out of greed, just for you to become the next Crown Prince. I have overlooked so many of your mistakes and evidence of a possible coup... You were already the Crown Prince, what more did you want?! Shameless, both of you! Men, take them away! Both of them shall be thrown into the Cold Palace until further notice!” the Emperor’s rage seethed fear into everyone, as they bid his order, uncaring of the two’s desperate pleas. “Yin Zhen, you did well. Although a tragic truth, I was expecting this. As the matter of a new Crown Prince has to be instilled, I will make the final Imperial Edict tomorrow... However, you must know that you are the chosen one. I only wish that you do not act as carelessly and shamelessly as your brother did.” the Emperor sighed, feeling older than ever. “Father...I...! Your Majesty, you are magnanimous, I do not know how to thank you.” the Prince kowotowed to the ground, only to hear a weak chuckle from his father. “Rise, no need for that. Physician Y/N, you and your father once again saved us with your vast knowledge and expertise. I shall grant you both the title of Noble Officials of the Third Rank and shall enjoy all the benefits and luxuries that come with it. You have served me well and I am sure you will continue to do so in the future as well. You are all dismissed.” the Emperor said as everyone bowed to greet him off. “That worked better than expected.” the Prince smirked, looking down at the stunned girl. “Am I a genius or what?” she spoke breathlessly before starting to laugh in glee. “Dear, I have no idea what silly thing you plotted while I was away, but... I have to say, you pulled quite the stunt.” her father patted her hair lovingly. “I suppose once in a while I do like to have some dangerous fun, huh? Good thing I have two Royal Helping Hands to take me out of the water should I suddenly forget to swim.” she grinned carelessly, only for her father to shake her head, smiling. “Just be careful. Although... I am sure you will be protected. I will take my leave now.” and with a small bow, the left the three alone. “Was any of that true?” the 3rd Prince eyed the two carefully. “Well... She really did want to kill the baby by burying it alive. The rest was... Induced or fabricated. But nobody has to know, right? It’s all our dirty little secret.” the girl winked at him and, taking the 4th Prince’s hand, pulled him outside. “How does it feel being a Noble Lady?” the Prince chuckled, pulling her close to his chest and smiling warmly. “None the wiser.” she snorted in amusement. “Honestly, Yin Zhen, it’s just a title. It’s not like anyone is going to care in any way. I am still going to be just a common girl with no right to stay anywhere close to you. Besides, you know as well as I do that, in the very small chance that the Emperor does accidentally impregnate a common maid and he wives her, she is still going to be treated poorly and will be bound to the Back Palace alone. You know as well as I do that nobody is allowed to enter the Back Palace so freely. I don’t want any of that.” she spoke, cautiously. “If I am going to be the Emperor, that mean the whole China is going to be mine. It doesn’t matter which woman is my Empress, as long as all the other concubines are there for political reasons. All they care about is wealth, fame and luxuries for their families, but none care for me the way you do. You saved me from drowning when you had no idea who I was, and you rejected any gift I gave you that wasn’t useful for your education. I know you don’t want to be pretentious or have me think that you love me solely for luxuries but that does not mean I should be forbidden from pampering you whenever I feel like it. Just accept it. I do not want any other woman to stay in the Empress’s throne besides me other than you. Don’t deny me that, Y/N.” he cupped her face, making her look up at him, his eyes tender and filled with love. “I can’t do it, Yin Zhen. I can’t. I can’t let you damage your image. You will be the best Emperor China’s ever had, you cannot have a common peasant woman be the Mother of the Nation. You will found a woman to genuinely love you and care for you as much as I do, and she will be worthy of you, and of noble blood... And you will forget about me, and I will no longer inconvenience you. You will be just fine without me, Yin Zhen.” her eyes gleaming, close to tears, as she spoke those painful words, but the prince had none of that. “I will have none of that modesty and selflessness of yours. Keep that to yourself. I am going to be the Emperor. The Eye of Heaven. If I cannot even choose the woman I love to be my Empress, than what’s the point in being diligent in everything else? No matter how hard working you are, at the end of the day, you need to have clarify and peace from your confidante, and for me, that is you. I will hear no more of your excuses, I will solve all of them. In fact, I know just how you can get the ultimate approval from my father, as if everything you’ve done so far over the years hasn’t been enough. In a month, the palace will hold a banquet for the Princess of Western Liang and her Diplomatic Corp. I trust you and you alone to accompany me to this. I know it’s not something you are used to, but I will prepare people to teach you the basic according skills needed. This is all you’re going to need to do, and it will impress Father without a doubt. Please, Y/N. Do it for me. Do it for us. I want to marry you and love you. I want to see you dressed in the most gorgeous Empress dress, to have you by my side at the coronation, to see you smile as I put accessories in your hair. I want to see you happy, and I want to see you by my side every day and every night. Screw the rules, the Emperor can do as he pleases in his private time.” the fire inside Yin Zhen’s heart seemed to reach the girl for she merely smiled and, with an unexpected turn of events, she threw her hands around his neck and pulled him down into a deep kiss. “You better abide your own words, otherwise this Empress is going to drive her new hair pin into your jugular vein and have you assassinated in your sleep.” she muttered with a teasing smirk. “That’s the Y/N I love.” and with that, he pulled her into another, and yet another kiss, with as much fire, love and passion as the previous ones.
For the whole month, the girl, getting used to servants and new luxuries in her home, trained in all the skills Yin Zhen’s servants thought necessary, as to become a proper Noble Lady and, as he would always say, His Empress.
As she was practicing her walking on heels through the palace, her maid, Shi Lian, seemed to be in quite the mood for chatting, telling her that the Western Liang delegation came by just earlier that day and that they are carrying this beautiful, exotic precious unique hairpin. However, unexpectedly, a huge crowd started gathering all around the two and the people started pulling and pushing around aimlessly, creating a huge commotion, making her fall on the street. Thankfully, just as she was about to get crashed by an incoming carriage horse, she felt lifted up.
“Are you injured?” the sweet voice of the man who so heroically rescued her called out, brushing a strand of hair from her face as he protectively held her waist. “Thanks to you, I am. Are you my guardian angel or what? I can’t believe how perfectly you arrived to save me.” she put her hand to her chest, trying to calm down. “I had orders to greet the corp. You silly... It’s great fate that I’m here. I’ll bring you back and send for an Imperial Physician to look after you.” he spoke strictly, only for the curtains of the carriage to be harshly drawn away and a glaring woman to stick her head out of the window. “4th Prince, are you going to leave me and the envoys of Western Liang behind?” she scolded in an evil way. “...Yin Zhen, I am alright, I promise. Shi Lian is with me. You said it yourself, this banquet is important, you cannot leave. Go attend your business. I insist.” the girl looked him deep into his eyes, knowing that they always understood each other from their looks. “Fine. But I will leave a guard behind to escort you home. Take care, Y/N.” and thus, with one last look, he left, as Y/N could only smile at how caring and attentive her hero is.
The silly man, however, as expected, dotted so much on her that he called her own father to care for her.
“Miss, looks like 4th Prince really cares about you! Ah, before I forget, the Matron has a massage for you. This afternoon, the Princess of Western Liang will be visiting the Imperial Palace and you are designated as her retinue.” Shi Lian’s sweet and innocent smile quickly disappeared. “Oh... Great. I have to take care of a bitch. May the Heaven watch over me.” Y/N muttered as she leaned her head on her father’s shoulder. “I heard she is pretty aggressive. She’d bully maidens without excuses. She’s fearsome... Miss, you have to be more careful.” the maid held her master’s hands, looking worried at her. “Don’t worry, I can do it. If this is the last step towards success, not even all the torture Wu Zetian went through can stop me.” Y/N’s voice was low, dark and dangerous. She was like a fearsome lioness ready to strike and maul anyone approaching her cub.
The next afternoon, after dressing is soft and demure looking clothes, Y/N went to show the Princess around the Imperial Palace. The load of exotic jewelry would blow away anyone’s mind, but she wasn’t interested in anything except for the fine craftmanship and the great detail put into everything.
“Ah, it’s you who was saved by 4th Prince yesterday morning outside the palace! To think 4th Prince would ignore me because of a slave girl!” the Princess stared at her condescendingly. “I am but a humble Palace maid. Surely 4th Prince would pay his undivided attention to you, Princess.” the girl bowed respectfully in front of the Princess. “I’d love to see what you’ve got! I heard the Tea ceremony of the Great Qing is extraordinary. Blow away my mind!” the Princess ordered immediately.
Thanking Yin Zhen for having all his servants meticulously teach her every art needed, Y/N proceeded in preparing the Tea Ceremony in such an elegant and graceful manner that the Princess was greatly jealous.
“She’s just a slave girl! In what position is she compared with me? Somebody drive her away, I don’t like her!” however, just as she was throwing her tantrum, Yin Zhen’s eunuch came by to invite Y/N to the banquet.
With a smile on her face, she went back to her home to change in the outfit prepared by the 4th Prince himself, and at dusk, when the glowing sunset brought out Yin Zhen’s most handsome features, she saw him. Tiredness was painted on his face.
“Yin Zhen... You look exhausted. Will you be alright?” she asked softly, cautiously raising her hand to caress his face. “I will be, yes. I am merely worried about you... But seeing you like this lifted all my worries. You are the most beautiful woman in the world.” saying so, he caressed her hand, kissing it.  “I have to look my best when standing besides the most handsome man in the world, correct?” she winked cheekily at him, and thus, they went together inside the palace where the banquet was taking place.
There were songs, and dances, and just about anything you could expect - And there, on display, the precious hairpin of Western Liang, the jewel inlaid to it glistening mesmerisingly.
Seeing her confused look, he explained that the envoys are willing to part with the hairpin as a tribute only if they pass several tests. As it was a matter o Great Qing’s reputation, His Majesty couldn’t possibly refuse.
“Three tests and the hairpin is ours? How arrogant. No matter, I’m sure we can beat them.” the girl scoffed, standing besides Yin Zhen’s seat.
The first test, as expected, was Music. Western Liang sends out an envoy adept in music. The test is rather prompt to the palace and no one is prepared for that, so no one responds. Truly, perhaps she was a master at playing Pipa, and she was beautiful too, but that was not to say some intimidation wouldn’t work on the arrogant and prideful Western Liang.
“How do you like this song, Your Highness?” the girl asked, a proud smile on her face. “Very well. Your pipa is superbly crafted.” the Emperor spoke, making the girl frown, indignant. “You only complimented the pipa. Does that mean you don’t like the song?” the girl asked, offended. “That is an understatement. Though I am not an expert, I can tell the song you played was ingenious. However, and pardon me for being blunt, your skill is quite ordinary.” the 4th Prince commented, making Y/N bite her lip to stop herself from chuckling. “This is the Number 1 ancient tune from Western Liang. Few people in Qara-Hoja can play it. The way I play it is considered sound from Heaven.” the girl was angrily gripping her pipa. “Sound from Heaven? That’s an overstatement! I might as well tell you, a song like that, any Palace maid in the Qing Empire can play.” and thus, Y/N walked forward, holding the beautiful wine pot, as if to serve the pipa player. “Any? Any maid at all? Fine, can YOU play it?” the girl asked, volcanic-like. “No really... But the song you played... I’ve been practicing it since childhood.” and thus, Y/N sat down in place of the Western Liang pipa player and played her own tune with perfect dexterity. “If a Palace Maid can play it, why am I here?” and thus, the first win was awared to the Qing Empire.
With a modest bow, Y/N went back by Yin Zhen’s side, and to the trained eye, it was obvious the both of them were radiating with pride for one another.
The second test is about Poetry. Western Liang’s envoy is rather accomplished in literature, however, no one can defeat Yin Zhen’s outstanding talent.
“Y/N, you write for me. You have beautiful calligraphy and can write fast enough. I trust you.” and thus, the two of you sit down at a table in the middle of the banquet - Yin Zhen pours out elegant line after line, as Y/N carefully writes down the love poem that, no doubt was dedicated to her. An hour elapses and neither admits defeat. No one dares to even breathe heavily, fearing they might disturb the two poets.
Despite everyone’s concentration, the ink maid’s hand trembles just enough to pour ink all over Y/N’s paper and clothes.  “What’s your problem?!” Y/N gasped from shock at being covered by the black liquid. “Pardon me, I didn’t mean it!” the maid nonchalantly says as she bows to the groud. “I saw it perfectly. That maid didn’t mean it... But the maid that writes has got such a temper!” unable to say anything, Y/N looked at the Prince who allowed her to quickly go change into another outfit, just as beautiful and chosen by him, and return. That Princess was going to be roasted pork very soon. “Careless as that maid is, this one is only too stupid. They both should be punished, or that’s unfair for 4th Prince.” the evil Princess sneered. “Western Liang is nowhere near the sea, but I have a feeling the Princess of Western Liang lives by the sea.” Yin Zhen retorted immediately. “What does that mean?” the Princess asked, confused, only for Y/N to smirk at her beloved’s silver, witty tongue. To think that this Bitchy Princess would trouble herself with a sea of trivials, despite her affections for him. “Your Highness, I am willing to make up for my mistake and write down what 4th Prince just composed, not missing a single word.” and so she did, shocking the Princess with her fantastic memory and even more, her elegant calligraphy. And thus, Yin Zhen gets easily the 2nd win.
The two then needed a break and went outside, to look at the beautiful moon and feel the chilly breeze of Spring. Y/N, without a care, leaned on Yin Zhen’s, sighing content.
“I know I’m amazing, but to think some bitchy Princess would get jealous of me... That’s something else.” Y/N muttered, clinging lazily on his sleeve. “I know she has ill-intentions towards you. That maid, my men have been tracing her. She is working for the Princess to frame you.” the Prince spoke, aggravated. “Well, good for her. She couldn’t beat us. We are the true perfect match of Heaven and Earth. Nothing can keep us apart.” Y/N scoffed at the lame princess’s intentions, making the Prince chuckle.  “Fearless as always. You are incredible.” he commented, simple, but effective. “Oh, you should see yourself, my darling. Do you know what the 3rd test is about?” she asked, only to see him shake his head. “Not sure yet, no. But whatever it is, I fear the Princess would want to be the one to compete against you. She’s just that petty.” the Prince explained, only for a servant to call the two inside.
Apparently, the Princess decided that the last test would be, lo’ and behold, Dancing. It was perfect. She knew just what to do.
“I am just a maid. Never have I thought I’d have the privilege to compete against Her Highness, the Princess of Western Liang.” Y/N bowed in front of the Princess gracefully, only for the Princess to sneer arrogantly. “You don’t deserve it! However... You played a part in the two previous tests. I’d like to see if you really have what it takes, or you are just borrowing help from the 4th Prince. So? You dare not?!” the Princess raised her voice aggressively. “I do have nothing that’s worth mentioning... However, I do believe that dancing should be one of my strengths. Allow me to change into the appropriate outfit for dancing and I shall show you, Your Highness.” and thus, Y/N quickly left the banquet to change into a beautiful Tang dynasty pink outfit the flowed like water around her, highlighting her featured delicately. Her hair, she had the top part in a bun, with beautiful golden hair pins decorated with agate and pearls, and wore agate earrings as well. On her face, despite the gorgeous make up, she had a half mask, outstandingly embellished with different precious gems that would sparkle brighter than the whole Western Liang.
Y/N watched the Princess dancing first - A rather basic dance, beautiful, yet, but of no fantastic feat. Despite all this, all envoys seem to think very little the little Physician girl, and even His Majesty and his Ministers seem to show little faith in her. Understandable, she thought, considering that all her life she strayed away from luxuries and feminine arts and studies. 
“Do you see? Looks like you are just a slave girl to everyone! You don’t deserve the competition against me!” the Princess laughed, taunting the girl, who merely smiled. “Then, Your Highness might want to be careful... Because losing to me... It’s really mortifying.” and thus, hearing the Prince reassuring his father that she will win without a doubt, Y/N proceeded in dancing the most beautiful dance.
Lanling Prince in Battle.
Throughout the month, she has been perfecting this dance in front of Yin Zhen, and it was his favourite. Such a tragic love story, of two lovers, their hearts and souls united in life and in death, no matter what. A love story of a woman loving a man so much that she would even march to war to bring him back. A love story of a man so tormented by his wife’s death that he goes insane and destroys everything in his path.
The half mask, symbolizing the beautiful features of the man, and the beautiful face of the woman, a dance that symbolizes their feelings, their love, themselves, the fate, their life - A single dance, a single person, symbolizing two soulmates.
It was the perfect dance, and it was to no wonder that this was their favourite dance... To dance together. Although it was a dance for one person alone, Yin Zhen could never resist embracing her and dancing with her. He couldn’t resist touching her and holding her up in his graces as if she was a Goddess.
It took every ounce of strength the Prince had not to join her in the dance, but as she finished, everyone was so in awe that they forgot to breathe, only to then burst into cheerful and loud applause.
“I... Lost? No... No way... How...?” the Princess was shocked as if by lightning. Absolutely horrified that a slave girl was infinitely better than her. “Do tell me how the Prince helped me here.” Y/N smirked condescendingly at the Princess who started growling. “Y-You...! How dare you?! A stupid slave girl, speaking back to me?! You deserve to be punished!” the Princess started wagging her finger accusatory at her. “Like you wanted to punish the maid who deliberately threw ink on the poem paper, realizing that Western Liang cannot, in this world, beat the Prince’s genius? Is this what Western Liang has to do to win? Cheat and frame? How ridiculous and disappointing.” Y/N shrugged simply, walking by the 4th Prince’s side. “Your Majesty! She wants me to call white black and even sow discord between the two nations! Justice be served, Your Majesty!” the maid shrieked, pointing at Y/N, as the girl sighed, taking off the mask. “I’m the bad guy now, huh?” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “I got my people, and you don’t have the right to an opinion here. You are from Western Liang.” the Prince, having made a secret investigation earlier, seemed to have enough evidence to get those two into trouble, but now enough to actually create a war. “As virtue rises one foot, vice rises ten. Prince, you are incredible. The maid was going to make you trip. If you had, no matter how beautiful you danced, there was no way you would have won. Still, you were as beautiful as ever. Congratulations, you are the reason behind Qing’s wins. I told you I know why I have faith in you completely.” he praised as he poured her a cup of wine, making her seat next to him and celebrate their win, as the Princess is taken out of the palace to receive punishment when she returns home.
And thus, Western Liang not only lose all 3 tests, but they are also completely humiliated by their Princess’s cheating, and present the hairpin, shamefully.
“Son, you earned this hairpin, I will confer it upon you!” the Emperor handed the hairpin to his son, who bowed his head as a thanks. “I thank you, Royal Father. However, may I ask for another grace? To give it to someone else?” he asked, as the Emperor laughed. “Now that I’ve given it to you, it’s totally up to you.” and thus, as Yin Zhen opens the delicately embellished box, he takes out the hair pin, walking in front of Y/N. “Come here. I promised I will be the one to put accessories in your hair. You earned this, my love.” he said as he put his hand on her waist, kissing her forehead. “U-Uh... Yin Zhen... Everyone is looking at us.” Y/N muttered bashfully, unable to look at him. “Good. I want them to know that you are my wife, and my future Empress, and that if anyone even dares to think of laying a finger on you, they are going to be brutally disposed of.” he smiled sweetly, lifting her chin up with his finger. “Very bold, doing that in front of even your Father. Very good. What a wonderful husband I have.” she chuckled lightly as she was guided outside, to watch the fireworks show. “I already told him I want to marry you. Wasn’t much he could say after today’s wonderful wins. I have to say, you are really good at making people do what you want.” Yin Zhen chuckled lightly, bringing the girl to his chest. “You know what I think? That you talk too much and that you should kiss your wife more often. How’s that sound, My Darling Emperor?” Y/N smirked like a vixen. “I love the sound of that... My Little Physician Empress.”
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willwriteforhugs · 3 years
Text
the most beautiful girl i’ve ever known- jung hoseok
boyfriend! hobi x chubby! reader- one shot !
word count: 2.3k
genre: angst
synopsis: you’ve always struggled with confidence- it’s simply part of who you are. always the chubby student in the class, always the one wearing pants instead of a mini skirt. as an adult, you tried to make peace with it, but after a horrible run in with your coworker, you feel like you just can’t do it anymore- at least, until your boyfriend takes things into his own hands. hoseok’s determined to get you to realize your own beauty, and he’ll do anything for that to happen.
warnings: body-shaming, work harassment, swearing, minor arguing
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a/n: wow, first bts fic, here we go...
this fic was requested by a sweet anon- and if they’re reading this, i hope i did the request justice! i think i did well, though i tried to treat the topic with love and respect.
i hope everyone enjoys <333
- - - 
your apartment building’s elevator makes a polite dinging noise as the doors slide smoothly shut- and for the second time since they opened, you thank god the small space is empty. 
elevators are generally silent places, but now the box is filled with the sound of your rushed, uneven breathing. you rotate so your back is pressed into the corner of the moving elevator, pressing a hand to your face. hot, silent tears stream down your cheeks. your thoughts are a jumbled mess: 
god, how embarrassing. crying in a public elevator. anyone could walk in right now. 
you try to take a stabilizing breath- but you quickly realize the attempt was in vain. your inhale causes you to hiccup and choke, making you cry even harder. you bury your face in your hands, wondering what you’d done to deserve this. 
‘why this body? why?’ you think to yourself. it was a thought that came all too quickly, and one you were familiar with.
you don’t think you were ugly, not necessarily- but you certainly don’t think you were desirable, either. being overweight had always had that effect- not complete hopelessness, but a serious lack of overall confidence. and it’s not like you can help it- you try your best to stay healthy, but genetics do what genetics do. so you are overweight. some days, that fact it didn’t bug you- but today was not one of those days.
in the moment, you feel yourself reach up down and clutch at your own arms, squeezing the soft flesh. you groan quietly, unwillingly reliving what had caused this spiral in the first place.
one hour ago:
you had begun the day in a positive mood, really- but that had all gone to shit once the work day began. 
you had a new coworker- mr. lee. he wasn’t your superior, but he liked to be called by his surname, apparently. he’d been hired on a whim two weeks ago, when the company lost the long time employee that previously held mr. lee’s position. 
the man, though being probably a decade your senior, had a childlike way of going about the work day. he laughed at things that weren’t funny, and tried to make conversation even when you had your earbuds in.
you hated him, naturally. 
he was just too much. over-caffeinated, controlling, and immature- basically everything you despised in a peer.
however- or up until today, at least- you’d been able to tolerate him. but while you were on lunch break, mr. lee drew the last straw with you.
he’d walked into the breakroom, already making too much noise. he was humming, and tapping his foot, and running the microwave, all at the same time. and, unfortunately, you were the only other person in the room- so he made a beeline straight for you. 
“afternoon, peach!” he’d said. you hated the nickname, and had no idea of its origins.
“hi,” you grumbled, staring down at your food.
“i didn’t see you come in this morning.”
you made a noncommittal noise. “got here early.”
“right.” the man replied. 
a beat passed, and the two of you settled into a stiff silence, only disrupted by the sound of your eating.
and finally, the vulture had a point of interest.
“you really gonna eat all that?” he’d said, looking pointedly down at your meal.
you’d frowned at the comment, and dodged the question. “why do you ask?” you’d replied.
“well, you know. didn’t think a girl like you would need all of that, right?”
you set your fork down, trying to keep your breathing even. before you had been able to come up with an answer, though, he’d continued:
“i mean, you should be trying to lose weight.” he leaned into the word ‘lose’, as if speaking to a child. 
you remember your anger had begun to dissipate, quickly replaced by offence and sadness. you’d stood up quickly, grabbing at your things so you could leave. 
mr. lee had frowned at your reaction. “come on now,” he’d said. “there’s no need to feel upset, i’m only being honest with you. you don’t want me to lie, do you? you’re fat, you may as well know.”
you spun on him. “and what’s so wrong with being fat?”
before he could supply you with an answer (which he surely thought he had) you’d stormed out of the room and requested the afternoon off.
and now here you are. 
you stumble a bit on your way out of the elevator, cursing as you nearly drop your bag. when you finally make it to your door, it takes three tries to get the code correct.
you sigh heavily as the door to your apartment swings open. to your surprise, you find the lights still on, and it takes you a moment to realize why. 
it’s friday.
hoseok had the day off. 
shit.
you kick off your shoes and shut the door quickly, abandoning any efforts to be quiet. your own sniffles seem loud as you scramble to shut yourself in the hallway bathroom. you don’t want him to see you like this- crying, puffy, and chubby as usual.
right as you slam the bathroom door shut, you hear his voice.
“y/n?”
you grimace, clamping a hand over your mouth to stifle the sounds of your crying. 
“y/n-ah, is that you?”
you hear your boyfriend pad into the hallway, and his steps falter when he discovers your belongings strewn about by the front door. there’s a pause, then the footsteps continue to the bathroom door- where, on the other side, you’re slumped against the cabinets. 
hoseok knocks gently. “y/n? love, are you alright? i thought you worked until five today...” 
when you don’t answer, he continues. “are you sick?”
you squeeze your eyes shut, and a small sob tears its way out of your mouth.
you can tell your boyfriend heard it, because his voice becomes even more frantic. “y/n?” he says, leaning against the door.
oh, hoseok. sweet, innocent hoseok. he was always so kind to you. you remember the day when he first asked you out- you’d been convinced it was a prank at first, but when you realized he was being genuine, you’d fallen for him instantly. now, you know that genuine was all hobi ever was.
he’d never called you fat. it had crossed your mind, of course- whether or not your size bugged him, or if he had to defend you to his friends- but whenever you’d been brave enough to ask about it, hoseok would always respond with: “of course not, my love, you’re beautiful.”
you’d never pushed it, though now you realize you always wanted to. 
now you remove your hand from your mouth, taking a shaky breath. your voice trembles as you finally respond: ‘”i’m okay, i’m- i’m not sick or anything.”
you hear your boyfriend’s body slide down the length of the door, ultimately settling on the ground in front of it. you lean forward so your head is pressed against the wood- the two of you are sitting face to face, with only the closed door keeping you apart.
“y/n-ah, talk to me.” hoseok says. “please.”
your shoulders shake as another wave of tears crashes over you. “i’m sorry,” you manage. “i’m just- i’m not feeling very good right now.”
you can tell hobi’s face is pressed into the door from how close his voice sounds. his words are tinged with distress. “what happened?”
you sigh, overwhelmed with shame and anger. you don’t want to tell him- but of course, you know you have to anyways. if for anything, just to wipe the sad curiosity out of his voice.
“you remember- do you remember how i have that awful new coworker?” you croak.
there was a pause, then: “the older one?” 
“yeah. he’s annoying. and rude.” 
“okay, yeah. i remember.” hoseok says quietly, urging you to continue.
you inhale slowly. “he just- he said some things to me today, and i-”
hobi interrupts you suddenly, his tone having gone sharp. “what kind of things?”
you pause. “he said... things about my body. he said i needed to lose weight.”
hoseok says nothing, which is always worrisome. you can practically feel his emotions through the solid wooden door- a chaotic mix of distress, concern, and red-hot fury.
after a moment, your boyfriend speaks up. “y/n-ah.”
you hum dully in response.
“can you please open the door?”
you frown, but decide not to fight it. you know he’s only trying to help. so you reach up and scoot back a few feet so that the door can open inwards. hoseok, who had been so faithfully slumped on the other side, shuffles inside the small bathroom, still on his knees.
when he meets your eyes, you can see his heartbreak, and he can see yours. without any hesitation, he reaches forward and takes your face in his hands, softly caressing your tear-streaked cheeks.
you lean into his touch, allowing your body to fall forward into his. he slips an arm around your abdomen in support. 
a few minutes pass without speaking, the air filled only with the sounds of hobi’s hand running over your back, and your laboured breathing.
finally, your counterpart speaks up. “y/n- is that all he said? the one thing?”
he places his hand on your jaw to lift your face away from his chest, wanting to meet your eyes.
you sigh, pulling away. “no, he- he told me that i should eat less, and that-” your breath catches. “well, he said i was fat.”
hoseok’s jaw clenches, and you shift in his arms. “what?” you whisper.
his eyes are aflame when he responds. “why would he say those things to you? i just- why did he think he’d have any right?”
you look away. “i don’t know. male workplace entitlement.”
hobi gives a wry chuckle. “that’s no excuse.”
“i know.”
“we’ll report him, alright? i will, if you won’t. that’s no way to be speaking to coworkers.”
you nod vaguely as hobi runs his hands up and down your arms. trapped underneath you, your right foot begin to fall asleep. 
“baby?” your boyfriend asks after a minute.
“do you think he’s right?” you burst, eyes burning. “do you think i need to lose weight?”
hoseok’s face falls, and he grasps at your wrists. “y/n,” he starts.
“no,” you interrupt. “really, hoseok. i- i’m not enough for you, am i? i don’t know why you stay with me. you’re way out of my league.”
“y/n!” hobi snaps. his tone is suddenly sharp.
you shut your mouth, already regretting your words.
“my love.” hoseok whispers, his voice breaking. “how could you say that?”
you choke on a dry sob, unable to answer.
your boyfriend’s eyes search your face, desperate for an answer that isn’t there. “how could you ever think that you aren’t good enough? and- what, just because you aren’t skinny?”
you look down at the floor as he continues, blinking rapidly. the tears really won’t stop. 
“that’s a silly way to think.” hoseok says quietly. “and i know that for a fact, y/n. because you are the most beautiful girl i’ve ever known. and you always will be, no matter how big you are. you could be four sizes smaller, or four sizes larger, and i would love you all the same.”
you burrow your face further into his chest. “you mean it?” your voice comes out in a whimper.
“absolutely.” he says, not hesitating. “there is no version of events where you aren’t good enough for me. you’re too good for me, honestly. sometimes i think you deserve better.”
you pull away now, frowning. “that’s not true.”
“why not?”
“well,” you falter. “because i love you. and i chose you. i chose you because i love you, and i don’t want anybody else.”
above you, hoseok smiles gently, waiting for you to hear your own words.
the realization hits, and you understand suddenly. he wanted you to say that, to hear it from yourself.
“oh,” you whisper.
“now do you get it?”
you sniffle, grateful that your tears have mostly subsided. “yeah,” you mumble. “i get it.”
“good.” hobi pauses. “i love you, y/n. and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says about you, because you’re gorgeous, and you’re important. and you will never be defined by your body. i’ll call your office and report that awful guy, alright?”
you nod silently.
“okay.” he says, nudging your arm. “now how about you get cleaned up? since you’re home early we can spend the whole evening together if you’d like.”
you perk up at that. “oh- yes, i want to.”
hoseok smiles. “i thought so. here-” he rises to his feet, extending a hand to help you. you take it, placing your palm in his. he lifts you to standing, then smiles again.
“don’t worry, my love. i’ll fix your mood right up. i even have some sample tracks i could show you!”
you smile gently. “that sounds nice.”
as he turns to leave, you clear your throat. “hoseok.”
he turns quickly, eyebrows raised. “hmm?”
you gesture for him to come closer, and as soon as he’s in arm’s reach, you lean over and kiss him.
it’s a gentle kiss, really. a kiss that says i love you, and a kiss that says thank you, for everything.
hoseok hums into your mouth, hands quickly finding your waist. you lean into him, body and mind buzzing. kissing hoseok is your favorite, because each time is just a little different. 
your hands find his hair, and you smile against his mouth. you can feel him smile back.
he kisses you for just a moment longer, then pulls away. 
he rests his forehead on yours, sighing lightly.
and you know that you have never felt more loved, more beautiful, more safe, then you do in that moment, with him. 
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theconstantsidekick · 3 years
Text
The Avengers ft. Static (1) | s.r
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Past Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (briefly mentioned)
Genre: Fluff I guess.
Summary: Steve's finally awake from his hibernation. And as expected, he doesn't get his moment of calm cause someone is here to recruit him to go fight another war... with ALIENS.
(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)
Warnings: Swearing.
a/n: read Age of Ultron (ft. Static) to get a better backstory. Not necessary but recommended.
sidenote: here’s the pinterest board and spotify playlist if you’re interested.
The Avengers ft. Static (2) | Series Masterlist | Age of Ultron (Static Origin Story) | Static Verse Masterlist | The Falcon, The Winter Soldier and Static | Iron Man 1 (ft. Static) | Bucky Barnes, the Boyfriend
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“What did that poor punching bag ever do to you?” A voice rings out from a couple feet to his left.
When he turns to look at the owner of said voice, it’s a woman. Probably one of the most beautiful women he’s seen since—
She’s standing at the entrance of the gym, at the wide-open caged door. She’s staring at the punching bag Steve just hit hard enough to not just burst open spilling its contents but also fly off into the hinges… literally. Her face is contorted in something akin to curiosity while she stands there exuding a sense of ease and confidence, Steve himself still hasn’t been able to master.
Her ensemble of a navy blue pantsuit with a shiny grey tie, adds to her air of eerie calm surrounding her.
She’s a small little thing compared to him, most people are. Yet she seems… more prominent than he has ever managed to feel.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but do I know you?” He asks, head cocking to the side.
“Ehhh,” she makes a face that resembles assent before adding, “well… during our last encounter you were quite… frozen. So no. Not consciously at least.” She begins walking towards him.
Oh.
Of course.
People like her don’t seem so sure of themselves unless they really are that sure of themselves.
And she holds herself like someone who is very sure of herself. So Steve guesses—
“You work for S.H.I.E.L.D.?” He asks, beginning to walk towards the bench next to him, matching her pace.
“Reluctantly,” she replies, with a scoff. “But yes… Having trouble sleeping?”
He begins unwrapping the kumpur off his hands. “I slept for seventy years, ma’am. I think I’ve had my fill.”
She tsks at him, clicking her tongue. “Please don’t call me ma’am,” she dismisses him. “But if sleeping’s not your thing… maybe you should try looking for someone to sleep with,” she adds with a small smirk.
And all Steve has as a response is stunned silence.
What the hell happened when he was on ice?
She chuckles lightly at his wide eyes, waving her hand and brushing him off. “As a celebration, I mean… Or maybe go out? See the world?”
He’s finally able to move again from whatever paralysis that comment had put him under. He pushes the soft white fabric of his kumpur into the bag that rests at the edge of the bench. “I went under, the world was at war, I wake up, they say we won. They didn't say what we lost.”
Her slow measured steps bring her to a stop to his right. Her hands finally come out from behind her revealing a file, as she says, “Well, unfortunately, Captain, that kind of righteousness went out of business a long time ago.”
“Maybe that’s the whole problem,” he retorts.
Her smile doesn’t falter at his biting tone, only grows. “Maybe that’s why I’m here.”
“You here with a mission, ma’am?” He asks.
“Again, Captain… Please. Don’t call me ‘ma'am,” she looks genuinely annoyed at the use of the word, “you really make me feel my age..” Did you forget who you’re talking to? He thinks, a little amused, as she opens the folder in her hand, extending it towards him. “And yes.”
“Fury’s way of getting me back into the world?” Steve asks, accepting it and sitting down.
“Well… he’d tell you it’s his way to save it.” The way she says it makes it sound like she doesn’t believe it.
As his eyes scan the document, he feels a horrible churning feeling in his stomach. ‘Cause apparently his sacrifice be damned; this stupid cube will not leave him alone. “Hydra's secret weapon.”
“Howard fished it out of the ocean when he was in there looking for you,” she says, ever so casually. It almost sounds like she knew him. He can’t help but look at her intently as the words escape her pretty mouth. Steven! Shut up. He looks back down at the file. “Fury will tell you it could be the key to unlimited sustainable energy or some such.” She moves her head in annoyed indignation. “I have a tendency of tuning him out when he’s spewing bullshit.”
He looks at her curiously.
Back in his day, agents didn’t usually talk about their Directors with this much disdain, this publicly. But then again, his days were a long, long time ago.
“Anyway, it’s been taken now,” she says jovially, running a hand through her hair. She seems almost uninterested in this whole thing.
“By whom?” He asks, handing the folder back to her.
She accepts it easily. “This stupid alien dude, Loki…” AN ALIEN? Really? What? Men with Red Skulls wasn’t weird enough? “You’ve got a lot to catch up on. World’s been getting a lot stranger since you decided to make your debut…” she pauses for a cunning smile, “and well, your swift exit.”
Ouch.
He might have been frozen but his heart’s not.
“At this point, I doubt anything could surprise me,” he throws back, getting up and picking up his bag.
“Ten bucks says you’re wrong,” she says as he picks up a punching bag over his shoulder. “There’s a debriefing packet waiting for you back at your apartment.”
“And what, you just expect me to jump back in? I gave everything up for this world once already. What makes you think I’ll do it again?” He asks as he begins to walk away.
There’s a slight pause and then, “...Peggy Carter.” And the moment she says it, Steve’s steps halt. “Based on the stories she told about you—if the world’s in danger, you come running.”
He drops the punching bag off his shoulder, resting it on his side as he turns back to look at her. “You knew Pe—”
She cuts him off, walking in his direction. “Maybe I did,” she shrugs, “Or maybe I’m lying to get to see the disastrously gorgeous man smile.” She smiles at him sweetly, as she walks by. His body turns to follow her motions with his gaze. “Who knows? Why don’t you come find out?”
“Will you at least give me a name?” He yells out.
“You’re going to have to earn it, Captain.”
And with that, she’s gone.
Read the next part here. Find other static verse works here. Find her origin story here.
tag list: @freeflyingphoenix @aryksworld @jakey-stan @arikarapli @justab-eautifulmess @agent-laufeyson @agentmstark @ceo-of-daichi @eccentricxem @asimovethroughthisworld @paintballkid711 @fairlygothparents @starkleila @heyitsmereading @jn-wolf
157 notes · View notes
peachywrite · 3 years
Text
Unpleasant Pleasantries
Rohan Kishibe x JosukeSister!Reader
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Trigger Warning: inappropriate stand use, mild suggestive themes
Rohan thought this to be the perfect opportunity to get back at that imbecile with the hair of a 60’s delinquent, but instead found something more fulfilling than revenge.
It was your first time meeting the famous mangaka, but Koichi insisted that you introduce yourself to the newly found stand user as a formality.
~
“It’s better to make friends than enemies, y/n! So please do this for me.” He begged, clasping his hands tightly together as he bowed.
“Koichi-chan, he ripped out pages from your face and tried to do the same to Okuyasu and Josuke. I don’t know if I trust this guy.” You sighed, nervous and even a little scared.
“It’ll be fine, when you tell him you’re related to Josuke, he won’t even think about trying anything!” Koichi’s eyes glistened, still silently begging you to go.
“Fine, but if I don’t show up back home in an hour, call Josuke please.” Koichi nodded enthusiastically, shouting thank yous while he ran off to find your brother.
~
Thanks to the written address Koichi had given you, it was easy to find the large Victorian mansion that belonged to the isolated artist.
“Come on, y/n. You can do this. Just a quick hello and you’re done.” You tried to psych yourself up, taking one last deep breath before approaching the walkway that led up to the door.
Knock Knock
You waited, your heart rate a bit too quick for your liking.
You could hear the steps on the other side slowly approaching and suddenly stopping, only to find the door creak by.
“Now who would be disrupting the Great Rohan Kishibe?” The man spoke in a sinister tone, swinging the door open.
Rohan Kishibe looked nothing like how you expected him to. He was built slim but still toned, his green hair neatly styled and face slim and sharp with a cute dolphin bandage placed on the bridge of his nose. His green eyes stared at you intently, as if he was trying to analyze your face as well.
“I-I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. My friend Koichi wanted me to introduce myself. I’m Y/N Higashikata. I’m a stand user and I go to school with the rest of the boys.” You stammer out, guilt hitting you for interrupting the presumably busy manga artist.
The man eyed you with a devilish smirk, clapping his hands together like he had discovered something amusing.
“You’re Josuke’s little sister! Oh how fun! You know, you’re too cute to be related to that boy. Now please come in, I’ll make you some tea and we can talk.”
“I’m actually the same age as him, and I’d love to join you but I got... study plans with K-Koichi!” You tried to avoid his stare but as he made eye contact, you knew you had lost.
“Nonsense! I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ll be studying with me, now please come in already.” His smile grew while he pulled you into his abode by your wrists.
The house was lightly decorated with manga related memorabilia on the wood carved shelves and many original panels from famous mangas hung framed on the soft toned walls, but the home still held a grand Victorian feeling to it.
Your original unease disappeared as you took in the grandeur of the mansion and the interesting items that adorned it so carefully. Rohan smirked at the curiosity in your eyes and the quick movements they made while you focused on specific areas of his home.
“Would you like a personal tour of the property before we study? I will warn you though, not all the rooms have been styled by yours truly yet. It’s a work in progress at the moment.” The smile he bared had you suspicious again, but you didn’t want to be rude to the owner of such a magnificent estate.
“As much as I would love to, your home is absolutely stunning, I sadly only have an hour to study. My mom would kill me if I got home late again.” A hefty sigh escaped your lips and you gave him your best upset expression you could muster.
You hoped he wouldn’t key in on your lying, remembering the warning Koichi had given you about his ability to discern genuine emotions from fake ones.
The mangaka squinted his eyes for a moment, causing your heartbeat to speed up substantially, but his face returned to its usual smile that you swore held a bit of deviousness underneath.
“Oh! it’s alright, dear. I understand. I’ll save it for your next visit. Let’s get to your work now, follow me to the kitchen. I’ll prepare us something and you can take a seat by the window.” He gently took your hand, guiding you to the kitchen and carefully pulling out a seat for you at his dining room table.
A beautiful bouquet set in a hand sculpted vase caught your interest on the table as Rohan busied himself with brewing a fresh pot of tea. The flowers were bright in color compared to the muted ones of the vase, but the contrast made both appear unique and appealing to the eye.
“I see you even appreciate the smaller details of a home. Though I am a mangaka, I do dabble in other forms of artistic expression. Take pottery for example, I glazed this vase in a muted color pallet so it could stand out on its own when beautifully bright flowers were placed in it. The two compliment each other nicely, don’t they?” He set down two tea cups and began to pour.
“Yes! And I especially love the bright purples in the lillies you picked here.” You gently touched a petal, Rohan now lightly tapping his cheek, pulling out a chair for himself to sit right beside you.
His closeness and unwavering gaze brought a heaviness to your chest, making you stumble over your words.
“Um-m thank you for treating me so well and letting me study in your home, Rohan-sensei.” You began to unpack your notes and textbook, Rohan scooting closer to analyze what you had written.
“No need to thank me, my dear. Now let’s get to your studies. What is it you need to work on today?” The smile he shares with you is comforting, but you can’t help but feel like he was plotting something.
You set your pencil bag down and prepare your notebook, trying to make yourself busy by setting up.
“Biology. I’ve only just recently started going to school in person, but I tested well enough to be placed in the highest class. Today we’re supposed to label all the organs in this frog drawing.” Your tone comes off as annoyed and Rohan picks up on it, tilting his head to the side while he reads your frog diagram.
“You aren’t a fan of biology? I���ve got a few anatomy sketches of animals you could use instead of this photocopied worksheet. Maybe that will help peak your interest?” He stands and saunters out to find his sketches, leaving you alone in the kitchen.
When Rohan returns, the two of you work on your Biology homework for about an hour, finishing the entire pot of tea in the process. You found out that Rohan was quite skilled at anatomy, having an entire sketchbook dedicated to the anatomy of many living things, including the likes of frogs and flowers. He was extremely helpful and fun to talk with.
As you packed up your bag, Rohan remained seated in his chair, playing with one of the lilies from the bouquet. You weren’t sure if you should head towards the door and leave Rohan or wait for him to stand and lead you out. You were about to speak when the mangaka interrupted with a swish of his pen in your direction.
“Heaven’s Door.”
You felt a sharp shove of air to your midsection, sending you onto the floor. Every movement you attempted was futile as the grinning artist looked down at you. A deep chuckle haunted you while he leaned in closer to your face. His hands gently caressed your cheek, opening it up like a book.
“I’m sorry, y/n. You’re interesting and I’d love to learn more about you, but I’m impatient. It’ll be far easier for me to just read you. Don’t fret, my dear. I’ll make sure you don’t remember this.” He flipped through your pages, ignoring the tears that ran down onto the very paper he was trying to read.
“Now let’s just read the juicy bits today. You were hospitalized along with your brother when you were only four, a strange parasite made up of Dio’s cells attacked your immune system at age twelve and had you bedridden until fairly recently.” The curiosity he held for your story excited him, the pen he held in one hand quickly wrote onto the notepad he placed on the floor beside your head.
You felt like sinking into yourself, ignoring his quips and teases as the embarrassment of the mangaka reading your thoughts and feelings enveloped you. It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be this way? He was so kind before and just like a flick of a switch, he changed.
“Oh, now how did you escape that? Here we are, thanks to Mr.Joestar’s Hamon lessons, you not only came back from your illness, but gained a proper stand and the ability to wield Hamon just like your father and great grandfather! Wait, what’s this new paragraph about?” He squinted closely, reading your page out loud again.
“I have to visit Rohan Kishibe today because Koichi told me to. He practically begged. Even though I’m scared, Koichi gave me his word that nothing bad would happen. Rohan Kishibe looks very different from what I imagined a mangaka to look. Well, what did you expect me to look like?” His smirk grows as he continues on.
“Ah, another new bit is here! Rohan Kishibe is very good at anatomy, he’s been kind and helpful, I’d like to get to know him better. I think Josuke was just overreacting when he called Rohan Kishibe pure evil. I could see us being friends.”
His smile disappears skimming the next sentence, his usual tone of voice changed as he starts to read. He sounded upset, hurt even.
You were the one being wronged here! Why would he get upset? He doesn’t have the right.
“Josuke was right. Rohan Kishibe is not nice, he is terribly mean. He’s using me for his entertainment. He doesn’t care. Rohan Kishibe is not kind, he is not helpful, he is cruel, I don’t want to get to know him. I want to forget him.”
“I hate Rohan Kishibe. I hope to never see him again.”
Rohan paused, looking away from your pages, trying to focus on anything else for the moment.
“W-well, I’ll just fix this last paragraph and erase it from your mind. You’re being dramatic, I’m not as terrible as you describe me.” Chuckling to himself, he tries to laugh off his obvious pain and attempts to regain his composure.
“No! I won’t let you erase my emotions!” You shouted, a wave of Hamon spreading through his arm as his pen touched your page, his attempt to rewrite your memory foiled.
The mangaka was sent flying back, his right arm dropping the pen and your face finally shutting closed, returning your ability to move. Although you were upset at the betrayal of trust you gave the man, you felt a twinge of guilt in your heart when you spotted his still form draped across the wood floor, cradling the arm you had burned with your Hamon.
Running to his side, all thoughts of malice left your body while you attempted to get a better look at his injury. His arm was still intact thankfully, but it was badly burned and needed to be set correctly and quickly if he ever wanted it to heal properly. You took a deep breath and turned Rohan over to see if he was still conscious.
“Oh god, Rohan I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” Your eyes fill with tears again as you see the artist weakly rest himself against the wall, still holding his arm close to his chest.
“No, no it’s alright. I brought this on myself. I accept that.” He grimaced, trying to take a peek at his injuries but too frightened to actually check.
“You read my thoughts and history, it wasn’t right but you didn’t physically hurt me. I don’t know how that happened, but I promise you I’ll fix it.” You swore to the manga writer, now searching through your backpack.
When you found your pair of scissors, you went into full first aid mode, removing the sleeve from his right arm by carefully cutting the loose cloth off. After tossing the short sleeve to the side, you cut the bottom of the skirt you were wearing off into a long bandage-like shape of clothing and ran it under the cold tap water from the kitchen sink, returning to the injured Rohan.
“I’m going to wrap your arm with this, it won’t be painful if you let me use my stand, but I’m going to ask you first before I use her on you.” The man nodded, accepting your offer to erase the pain.
“Under Pressure. She’s a stand that has the ability to manipulate emotions. She can change them within a radius or focus on only one individual. When she focuses on a single person, she is only able to change their emotion to the opposite of what is being felt.” You began to wrap his arm, nervous about what he might feel when you placed the wet fabric loosely around it.
All Rohan could do was bite back his lip to avoid making any embarrassing sounds. Instead of the immeasurable pain he imagined to come with dressing a freshly burned wound, he felt a wave of euphoria. He now understood what you meant by the “opposite” emotion would be felt.
The artist never knew wrapping his burned arm would feel so good, every touch caused his breath to hitch in his throat and his eyes to water. It confused him, even though he understood that the opposite of pain was pleasure, it still startled him every time you did one more pass of the homemade bandage.
He tried his hardest not to be flustered, but when you finished off his arm by tieing the last bit with a knot, he let a small whimper escape his lips. His hand shot up to cover his face, it’s hue now a bright crimson.
Your cheeks turned bright pink as well. You turned away swiftly, to avoid eye contact.
“U-Um just stay put. I’m gonna borrow your phone for a second and let you catch your breath.” Scratching the side of your cheek, you stand up and make a b-line for the phone, dialing your home and hoping that Josuke would pick up. You glanced at the clock set on the wall, it read 8:15.
I’m late.
As soon as the phone line rang once, you spotted the front door to Rohan’s manor fly across the main hall. Peeking your head out from the kitchen, you see a furious Josuke with Koichi in pursuit.
“ROHAN-SENSEI! WHERE IS MY SISTER YOU CREEP?! SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HOME 15 MINUTES AGO!” He yells out, his voice echoing throughout the home.
“Josuke! I’m here! I was just about to call you. Listen, I messed up bad and hurt Rohan. He’s in the kitchen bandaged up but I need you to heal him all the way.” You run to Josuke, giving him a tight hug while trying not to cry from the stress of the situation.
Josuke squeezes you once and let’s you go, looking you over from head to toe so he could make sure you weren’t injured as well. When he spots your torn skirt, his aura radiates a dark malice you’d never seen him show before.
“Wait Josuke! I did this to myself, we didn’t have bandages so I cut some cloth.”
He looks you over again and sighs heavily, the purple hue that was full of rage, leaving him.
“Ok, fine. Where’s that jerk? I’ll fix him up real quick so we can go home.” He grumbled, following you into the kitchen.
Even though Rohan wanted to refuse any treatment from Josuke, he finally accepted the help when you threatened to cry on the spot. His arm had returned to its previous state, unburned and fully functional, thanks to Josuke and Shining Diamond.
Josuke picked up your backpack and held the now fixed front door open for you, while Rohan stood and waved goodbye. You awkwardly returned the wave and made your way back home, your thoughts chaotic and confused.
On the one hand you felt guilty for putting Rohan through such an immense amount of pain, but you were also upset at the humiliation he put you through by reading your life with Heaven’s Door. These thoughts plagued your mind as you laid your head to rest for the night.
~
It was roughly two in the afternoon when Rohan Kishibe knocked on your front door. A short but older woman answered, complaining about the loudness of the knocks when she looked over the artist.
“Oh, my apologies. You’re that Rohan Kishibe my kids talk about. How may I help you, Mr. Kishibe?” She asked with a warm tone to her voice, leaning against her door frame and smiling up at him.
“Is y/n in? I’d like to deliver this to her personally.” He spoke softly, shaking the box he held in his hands.
Your mother couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. He appeared to be anxious and uncomfortable, most likely it was his first time gifting something like this.
“She’s not home yet, but give her five minutes. Why don’t you come in? You can wait for her up in her room, just don’t go raiding her drawers or anything.” She joked, Rohan’s cheeks turning vivid scarlet.
“I’m only pulling your leg, sweety. I know you’re better than that. Now come on! Have a seat at her desk and I’ll bring you up some lemonade.” Rohan followed her inside.
When they reached your room, Mrs.Higashikata opened the door and waved her hand to your desk seat.
“Pull up that chair there and I’ll be back with some refreshments.” Her smile gleamed at him. She walked off to the kitchen, leaving the artist alone in your room.
Rohan browsed around your room, taking in the personality that was apparent by the many bits of decor that gave your little private space a peculiar style. Your walls held photos printed on Polaroid film, sketches presumably drawn by you, and posters of your favorite video games and shows.
When he glanced around your room, he was immediately caught off guard when he spotted two volumes of his very own manga, propped up and on display in your bookcase. To say he was flattered was an understatement, he was completely floored. You were a fan of his?
His heart was heavy all of a sudden, he felt a dreadful pain in his chest while he held the book in his hands. He turned his head toward the doorway when he heard your voice greet your mother. To regain himself, he quickly skimmed through the pages of the manga he was holding, hearing your distant conversation come to an end.
You entered the room. Dropping your bag at the corner of the closet, your eyes never leaving Rohan while you take a seat on your bed. The mangaka gently placed your copy of Pink Dark Boy back in its original position, turning around now to face you.
“I’d like to humbly apologize for my abhorrent behavior and actions yesterday. I was terrible. I know it might be asking too much of you, but I brought you this as a peace offering. I want us to start over. I’d like to get to know you the right way.” He passes you the box he was carrying with him, nudging you to open it.
Casually unknotting the bow and removing the lid from the bottom, you slowly lift what appears to be a white sundress out of the box. It was beautifully made and looked to be just your size.
“I know it’s not the skirt you tore, but I felt like you deserved something a little more unique.” He averts your gaze quickly when you attempt to gauge his reaction.
The mangaka appears to be flustered, apparently not very used to apologizing. His eyes held a fear of rejection but also a glimmer of hope. A breath you never knew you were holding was released with a quiet hum.
“It’s beautiful, thank you, but do know that buying me things isn’t going to repair my trust in you. We can at the very least start over though.”
Rohan smiled to himself, thankful for your empathetic nature, and nodded a quick yes.
“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, how about we take that dress and enjoy some tea at the cafe? My treat.”
297 notes · View notes
toxicjayhoe · 3 years
Text
We don’t have to dance
Explicit
Shinso / Reader(OC)
M / F
Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
I mean there's some plot in my head but y'all don't get to see that haha
Cunnilingus
Blow Jobs
Hitoshi is a good boy
he asks for consent
Brainwashing
Oral Sex
Vaginal Sex
Unprotected Sex
Aged-Up Character(s) obviously
Light Dom/sub
Choking
Ahegao
Smut
He glanced across the overcrowded room, observing acquaintances and strangers as they socialized and sipped their drinks, swaying to the beat of the music. The open space of the hero office had been rearranged as to accommodate as many individuals as possible for this year’s Christmas celebration.
Shinso had never really been the type who partied, but he thought it was important to attend, if only for appearances sake. As a new Pro-hero, he believed it was a necessity to demonstrate he was a team player.
He took a mouthful of his cider, feeling it burn down his throat as he swallowed the effervescent drink. He never really drank either, but he enjoyed a nice glass every once in a while.
The couch he rested on was quite comfortable, he thought to himself as he settled back into it. He was more than content in just sitting here all evening until he believed it was acceptable to leave. He wasn’t interested in idle conversation about the weather or whatever these people were gossiping about to one another.
However, the universe had other plans for him it seemed, as Denki quickly approached him, shots in hand.
“Hey bestie, down this and let’s go get some ladies.” The blond handed the liquor towards him, urging him to take it, waggling his eyebrows and winking.
Shinso sighed, ignoring the offending alcohol currently being offered to him. “What ladies, Denki? We are at the bottom of the food chain here.”
“My dude, it’s a Christmas office party. Have you never seen a movie in your life? Things always get spicy at Christmas office parties.” He cackled, downing one of the shots and throwing the empty cup behind him. He pulled another from behind his back.
The purple haired man made a face, before chuckling quietly. “Where did that one come from?!”
Denki shrugged, shoving the two shots into Shinso’s hands. He rolled his purple eyes, giving in to maybe the only true friend he had.
He brought them to his lips, one after the other, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and placing the empty receptacles on the table by him. Of course Denki had chosen peppermint schnapps.
“I’m only going to be your wingman, and only because you could really use the support.” He said with a bored tone to his voice as he pushed himself up from the sofa. Denki whooped enthusiastically, rushing off to where Shinso could only assume the ladies were.
He unhurriedly trailed after him, making his way between the gatherings of individuals, being vigilant as to not come into contact with anyone as he passed them. He wasn’t fond of strangers to start, much less being touched by them in any way.
He was terrific at communicating when he was obligated to, which was merely when he was required to use his Quirk. He still had issues with it and, even now, citizens still told him it was better suited for a villain, but he’d come to terms with not being able to please everyone. As long as he did a respectable job as a pro-hero and protecting the populace, then he would be happy.
Once he finally made it beyond the crowd and to where Denki had run off to, said man was being rejected by yet another woman.
Jaw clenched as not to show any suggestion of a smirk, he clapped the blond on the back in sympathy.
“You’re aiming way too high, Denki. And you try too hard.” He said simply, unsure if it was the right thing to say or not. Nonetheless, the shorter man smiled up at him, seemingly undeterred by yet another loss.
“Let’s go play foosball!” Denki hollered, forcing him in the direction of the tabletop game, stealing two additional beverages as a waiter walked by them.
They played a few rounds, one versus the other. Shinso loathed to admit it, but he had struggled to keep up with the innate talent Denki appeared to have at the game.
Just as he began to genuinely start enjoying his night, Denki sprinted off, declaring he needed to piss. Shinso took the moment alone to survey his surroundings once more, taking in the sight of people’s inhibitions all but forgotten as alcohol started influencing their behaviors. He took another sip of his own drink, finishing it in one gulp.
If he was being honest with himself, he was also starting to feel the affects drinking had on his body and on his mind.
He leaned onto the wall behind him, arms crossed on his chest as Denki came into sight, marching towards him, arms intertwined with the two women at his sides.
One of them he recognized as Jiro, whom he was relatively convinced Denki had a major crush on. The other, however, he could not recall ever having the pleasure of meeting.
“Shinso, don’t be rude, say hi!” He rolled his eyes before nodding silently at them both. “Good enough. Okay! Me and Jiro against the two of you. Let’s do this.”
/\*\/*/\*\/*/\*\/*/\*\/*/\*\/*
Shinso was sure Denki had let him win for some odd reason his mind could not fathom.
As the two of them argued over why they lost the game, he cleared his throat, offering his hand to the shorter woman by his side
“I’m Shinso. Hitoshi Shinso. It’s nice to make your acquaintance”
She smiled, giving him a firm handshake.
“I know who you are, Brainwashing Hero.” His eyes widened, astonished anyone, let alone an alluring young woman, would know who he was. Was she not frightened of his quirk like everyone else had been? “My name is Aruna Ai.”
He heard himself hum before the words spilled from his mouth like word vomit.
“The moon does not fight. It attacks no one. It does not worry. It does not try to crush others. It keeps to its course, but by its very nature, it gently influences. What other body could pull an entire ocean from shore to shore? The moon is faithful to its nature and its power is never diminished.” He finished, taking a deep breath after such a long-winded sentence.
“Did you just quote Deng Ming-Doa’s Everyday Tao: Living with Balance and Harmony at me?” Aruna stared at Shinso, brows furrowed as her lips quirked up.
His hand found the back of his neck as heat rose to his cheeks in mortification, unable to look directly at her.
“Sorry, I don’t know where that came from, heh.” He continued to look everywhere but her, feeling crushingly stupid. Aruna chuckled, placing the palm of her hand on his muscular arm and squeezing.
“Don’t worry so much. I’m already a fan.” An overwhelming sense of calm overtook him then, like something paranormal was causing him to relax.
“What’s your quirk?” He blurted. He scratched his skull, once again mortified that he seemed to not have a filter tonight.
She squeezed his arm again before dropping her hand to her side, smiling brightly up at him.
“Well aren’t you just the most perceptive man?” She crammed her hand into her pockets, rocking back and forth on the heels of her shoes, seemingly deep in thought.
He patiently watched her.
“I can manifest emotions in others if I have direct skin contact with them. My power varies depending on the cycle of the moon though.”
He felt his eyebrow arch in curiosity. It was sort of similar to his own quirk, when he thought about it.
“That is truly fascinating, Aruna.”
She huffed and laughed. “Not as fascinating as being able to brainwash someone. I wonder what it feels like.”
“Care to find out?” He couldn’t believe the words leaving his own mouth.
“I would love to.” No hesitation in her voice, only a slight blush stained her cheeks.
His eyes narrowed as he stared into hers. “Are you sure?” His voice low.
She rolled her eyes “Of course I’m sure, Shin-“ Her eyes glazed over as her mind went blank.
“Follow me.” Came the command.
Although she had no control over her own movements, her mind was still aware enough to realise what was happening.
She was led across the crowds and through the halls. He silently guided her into an unoccupied office, small cots lined up on the walls.
He released his hold on her mind, allowing her a moment to turn around and leave, if she so chose.
His gaze never left her face, eyes concentrated on the way her cheeks darkened. Mortified, no doubt.
They remained standing, unmoving for long moments. Hesitation welled in him for a second, unsure of himself. Aruna’s breathing came out in a sigh as she strode forward, toward him in quick steps. When she reached him, her hands grasped his clothed shoulders as she pushed herself up onto the tips of her toes, raising her lips to meet his in a sweet kiss.
Purple eyes widened at the unexpected contact.
“I just… wanted to do that of my own accord first.” She whispered as she stepped back, breathing heavier than moments before, smile on her lips.
“You look at me like you think I’m someone else.” He said simply.
Her eyes narrowed, a look he could not read painting her features.
“How do I say this… We don’t have to talk, and we don’t have to dance around it, we don’t even have to be friends. I’m attracted to you…I want you to brainwash me. And…” She paused as Shinso slowly approached her.
Eyes peered into hers, pupils dilated. “And?”
“And… I want you to use me as you wis-“ Her mouth hung open, no words coming out as Shinso gained control once again. If she could smirk, she would have.
“Come here.” Her feet pulled her to where he was now sat on one of the cots.
Large hands grasped hers. The softness of her fingers in comparison to his own, rough and calloused, felt like heaven.
Shinso had never done anything like this before and the thrill of it all made blood rush through his entire body, his heart hammering in his chest.
He looked up into her blank eyes, dick twitching against his slacks at the sight of her. He couldn’t wait to see her ruined by him.
He couldn’t get enough of her soft skin, gliding his fingers up her arm and to her neck while the other hand drifted lower, reaching under her dress.
A devilish smirk formed on his face when his fingers tightened around her throat, a soft gasp leaving her mouth.
Hiking her dress up, he dug his fingers into her hip, pulling Aruna closer, lowering his head to kiss just above his tight grip.
Teeth grazed against her skin, eliciting soft moans from above as he nipped and kissed and sucked, marking her. He hoped the resulting bruises would last weeks, reminding her of tonight.
Despite that most thought that, while under the influence of his quirk, his victims couldn’t remember what they’d done under Shinso’s control, it all depended if he wanted them to remember or not.
He most definitely wanted Aruna to remember tonight, needed her to feel and see everything he would do to her and have her do to him.
“Spread your legs.”
A hum left his lips as she did what she was told, legs far enough apart for his face to fit nicely between soft thighs.
“Good girl.” He whispered, looking up into those blank eyes, her pupils now dilated, a look of lust filling them.
He kept his gaze fixated on hers as he released her neck, hand gliding to her breast, squeezing it gently. Fuck, he couldn’t get enough of her body. Her soft curves and her even softer skin. The breathy moans that left her lips at every new sensation.
Perhaps she was the one ruining him.
Both hands were on her hips, fingers slipping under the hem of her panties, dragging them down her legs and around her feet. He placed them in his pant pocket. They were his now.
As he pressed his nose to her, he inhaled deeply, a groan ripping through his throat. Absolute heaven, the scent of her driving him crazy with need.
His tongue met her folds, licking up to her clit before bringing it into his mouth and sucking. He felt her knees go weak, the only thing holding her up straight now were his strong hands at her hips.
She tasted absolutely amazing. Shinso’s eyes squeezed shut as he devoured her. He was sure his fingers were leaving bruises. He hoped they were.
Leaving her pussy for air was torture, but he could feel his control over her slipping as he got lost in the taste of her.
“I’m going to let go of your hips now. Don’t fall.”
He wiped his chin of her juices with the back of his hand, tongue darting out to gather the droplets on his lips. He pressed his palm down onto his cock, needing some kind of touch to release the pressure building inside him.
Nimble fingers unbuckled his belt, releasing his cock from its confines. Aruna glanced down, eyes lidded.
Her own tongue slipped from her mouth, licking her lips at the sight of him slowly stroking his cock, tired eyes locked on hers.
“Come taste me.” The commanding tone sent noticeable shivers down her spine, clearly trembling where she stood.
She could feel herself resisting the request, his control wavering as pleasure began to overtake his senses.
“ Obey me.” Aruna’s knees hit the floor, palms resting on his thighs as she positioned her mouth over him.
One calloused hand cupped her cheek, guiding her lower, the other gripping the base of his cock.
The sound that rumbled through his chest was unholy as she took as much of him into her warm mouth as she possibly could, hallowing her cheeks the instant the head hit the back of her throat.
“F-fuck. Aruna” His fingers fisted into her hair, staring down at her as drool dribbled down her chin. He gently pushed her down on his cock, face fucking her softly. He didn’t want to hurt her, but fuck if her wet tongue across the underside of his dick didn’t feel like paradise.
She moaned around him as he thrust into her mouth, sending delightful vibrations through him, dick twitching in her mouth. He was losing control. He could feel it.
Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock and- he was sure it would be the end of him. This girl. How did he get so fucking lucky?
Aruna’s fingers dug into his thighs as she came up for air, his quirk weak enough from the pleasure to break out of it.
His eyes widened as she quickly rose to her feet, pushing his chest down as she settled onto his lap, sitting on his cock, sinking down on it in one swift movement.
Strong hands grasped her hips once more, furiously fucking up into her. Every moan from her lips sent heat through him.
“You like that, baby?” He asked, voice hoarse and husky.
“Y-yes. Hah. You feel so good, Hitosh-“ Her pussy tightened around him, losing herself to his control once more.
“Silly girl. Stick your tongue out for me, and don’t stop fucking yourself on my cock.”
Her eyes blank again, tongue sticking out, drooling down her face. It was absolutely stunning. So fucking beautiful, and it was all for him. He had never seen anything so breathtaking.
He stared into her face, bringing his thumb to her clit, gently pressing circles into it and watched as she shuddered, grinding on him harder, breaths coming out unevenly, whimpers escaping her lips every time he bottomed out in her.
“You’re so beautiful. Aruna. Fuck. The way I fit inside you, like we were meant to be like this.”
The words left his mouth, any shame he might have felt discarded, pleasure overwhelming his every sense. She looked amazing, tasted amazing, smelt amazing. She was perfect.
He grasped her throat again, other hand on her ass as he met her thrust for thrust. She was close, he could feel it in the way her walls clenched around him, in the way her eyes crossed, tongue still lolling from her delicious little mouth.
“Come for me, my lovely moon. “
She stilled above him, walls clenching tight one more time as her insides fluttered around him, sending him over the edge, cock spurting deep inside her, a growl leaving his throat, fingers tightening painfully around her neck.
She collapsed against his chest as he released control over her, breathing heavily in the crook of his neck as he gently caressed her back and played with her hair, calming her as she came down from her orgasm.
Shinso adjusted her dress to cover her body. His heart felt full for what seemed like the first time in his life.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Aruna.”
He felt her smile against his neck.
There was no point in saving the world if it meant losing the moon.
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Art by Me
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tamagochiie · 4 years
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pairing: timeskip!kenma x fem!reader
synopsis: You come home late from your cousin’s funeral, and though Kenma didn’t expect much from you but perhaps a few leftovers you’ve managed to steal away from the dinner, he finds you with a surprise: a sleeping child cradled around your neck and a teenage boy hovering behind you.
Your poor boyfriend wondering what in the hell it is you’re plotting…
tags: angst and fluff, time skip!, slight spoilers if you squint
warnings: mentions of death, mentions of depression, cursing 
w/c: 2.5k
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a/n: welcome to the first chapter of this series! i’m very excited to start this, and i hope everyone who reads it enjoys it as well! i got the idea from a manga i was binge reading a while back, so the themes and a few of the plot points are different, but as it progresses, i’ve made it my own. 
anyway, happy christmas! see you next week! 
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master list
life as she’s known it >> 
You notice the subtle clench of Kenma's jaw beneath the warm glow of the hallway's light. His hooded gaze strained by hours upon hours of gaming meets your wavering grin. The gears in his head are turning very slowly, and since silence has fallen upon the atmosphere of your shared apartment, you can actually hear the little squeaks as your poor boyfriend tries to fathom the sight before him.
You have quite a knack for bringing peculiar things home without permission; the little frog you adopted on the side of the road during your commute home one stormy night, the mud pie your nephew made for you that stunk the entire apartment for weeks because you didn't have the heart to throw it away—at least not immediately; and the dinner you brought home from the self-proclaimed "legitimate" kebab restaurant that resides in the sketchier side of the city.
All quirky things that Kenma had accepted and grown used to.
But this? This was so far from the bar you had set for his expectations, he can't help but wonder if you're pulling a prank, or maybe even actually committing a crime. But the glint of guilt and sorrow painting so deep into your face tells him otherwise.
Oh, how the poor gamer wishes it was a prank.
You swallow your fear, forcing it all the way down to the pit of your stomach. You've practiced all you've needed to say in the ride home, but all you can manage is stuttering, "I-I can..I can explain," in rather hushed tone.
There goes all my practice, you think to yourself.
Kenma raises a brow, still peering at you with the driest expression. The child in your arms begins to weigh heavier than the pressure placed upon your chest.
Ah, he just might break up with me after this...
"This is—uh, this one behind me is Eiji—Ejij say hi." The young boy behind you bows shyly, his greeting softer than a whisper it feels like you imagined it. "And this little one—sleeping soundly—this one's Yuki..."
Kenma blinks away at your words, face unamused. You regret not even trying to bring home some cake. Maybe if you did, he wouldn't be so...upset? Is he upset or is it just his face again? You can never really tell.
You huff, quietly jumping to the harsh conclusion this'll be the moment he ends things with you. But you won't go down without at least a little fight.
"Look," You sigh, shifting your hold beneath Yuki's tiny bum so he doesn't slip away, "They needed a place to stay, and no one was willing to take them!" Your lips fall dry and the more you speak, the more your words come out strained. "In a room full of people who—who called themselves your family for so many years fall silent the moment they needed help! No one spoke up to help them! It was so bad, Kenma! I-If you were there you—"
You bite your tongue, catching yourself before you're swept away by the current of your rage.
A deep, shaky sigh escapes him. His eyes finally tearing away from you as he cranes his head back, seemingly accepting his temporary defeat. "Let them sleep in the spare room and we'll talk after," is the only thing Kenma says to you before turning around walking away.
The constricting feeling in your chest eases and you sigh in relief. You mentally high five yourself for your momentary win before twisting your gaze over your shoulder to look at the young boy towering over you, motioning him to follow you.
You never noticed how wide the apartment actually is. Maybe its because of the emptying feeling you were left with back in the hallway, but it all seems so eerily wide. Like, what are two people doing with such a big space?
He'll definitely break up with me after this.
There's still a lingering prickly feeling in your heart; a mixed emotion of a win and a loss. You try your best to prepare yourself for whatever the outcome may be, but deep inside you're already prepared for a break up.
The young boy trails behind you all the way into the bedroom, leaving a considerable amount of space between the two of you.
You switch the lights on, revealing a room big enough for more than just two kids. A desk on the side, a king size bed at the center, and a window with a good view of the city. It was usually the room Hinata crashed whenever he came back from traveling with his team, but he hadn't been here in months. Traces of him were left in the form of dust.
"Will this be good enough for now?" You ask Eiji as you shrug Yuki's backpack to the floor before making your way over to the bed.
His head is lowered, eyes still failing to meet yours. He's been like this since you pulled them from under the gossiping gaze of your family.
Family, you think. The word seems so meaningless now.
"When someone speaks to you, you ought to look at them," You say it with a genuine smile, hoping that the little warmth you have left in your heart radiates off you and onto him.
God knows he needs it more than you.
"Y-yes, you're right. Thank you." He stammers, "I'm-I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude—"
"Hey," You say, gently cutting him off as you hold your smile. He's still as soft and shy as the day you first met him. You can't help but smile at the thought that he never changed. "I'm not mad or anything...Its just a teaching moment. Remember it."
You watch as Eiji slowly shifts his gaze away from the floor, slowly raising his head to meet your eyes."There you go. You've got pretty eyes, you shouldn't hide them."
He hums a quiet thank you before turning around and shifting his attention to his backpack. You take care of the little one still hanging onto you, pressing a kiss onto his little forehead and rubbing his back before settling him down onto the bed.
You're careful not to stir him as you slip his shoes off. You tuck him in, brushing his hair away from his face to reveal his long lashes and puffy eyes.
Ah, there goes the heaviness in your chest again; a recurring feeling for the day. You wonder when it'll end and your heart sinks even deeper when you remember Kenma waiting for you.
Hesitantly, you excuse yourself and make your way to the door. You let Eiji know where the bathroom is and tell him not to be scared to ask you for anything, "Please don't scared," is the last thing you mutter before leaving the boys to rest.
You tiptoe across the living room, down the hall and towards your shared bedroom. The wooden floorboards creak beneath your feet whispering, "You've done it now", "You've crossed the line", and "He's definitely going to yell at you".
You clench the knob of your bedroom door. The thumping of your heart deafens your ears and your throat grows too dry for you to swallow your fear.
You shut your eyes and pray to the deities, hoping for a good outcome—hoping for any outcome than the one you're expecting.
It takes a moment—five minutes to be exact—but you muster a sliver of courage to push the door open. For some odd reason, you imagined Kenma would be sitting at the edge of the bed, silently brewing in his anger. But instead, he's on the floor, knees up to his chest as he fiddles with his Switch.
And you can't tell if you're annoyed or relieved.
You shut the door behind you before joining him on the floor. You keep your head down, picking off your nail polish while you wait.
Kenma pauses his game, setting it down to the side before completely leaning against the bed, lulling his head back to take a breath. You shut your eyes and you take a deep breath when you feel him shifting in his place to face you.
Here it is. He's going to yell at me, you think.
"What are you plotting?" He asks, not a single trace of irritation found in his voice but rather sheer curiosity dripping from his words. You keep your head down and eyes shut. "You ought to look at someone when they're speaking to you," Your name rolls off his tongue playfully, covered in nothing more than love and sincerity.
You peak an eye at him, lifting your head. "You're not gonna to yell at me?"
"When have I ever yelled at you?" His face contorts in judgement and a little concern, wondering if his girlfriend's broken or just completely stupid. "Why would I yell at you now?"
"I brought home two stray kids..."
"Yes, you did," He says matter-of-factly, "and we need to talk about that. So, can we please talk about that?"
You nod slowly, bringing your knees up to your chest before turning your whole body to face him.
Kenma sinks his elbow onto the end of the bed, cupping his chin for support before he speaks, “Who are those kids and why did you bring them home?"
Kenma looks at you directly, his face emotionless, but a bit softer compared to when you were first standing in the hallway. He blinks at you, waiting patiently till you're ready to speak.
"They were my cousin's kids," You say in a strained whisper. "The—The one that died in the accident." Kenma hums in response, signaling you to keep going. "We weren't close—as you know or else you would've heard a lot more about him—but we felt close enough...given what our family's like..."
Growing up with the kind of family you had and having met everyone from your extended family was kind of like living in a block of ice that never melted; solid in their beliefs, slippery with their anger, and had no room for any other emotion.
You made this very clear to Kenma when you first started dating, especially when he had asked to meet your family. He wasn't one to socialize or even initiate it, but he would do it if it meant doing it for you. But you turned the idea down fast, warned him that there'd be no reason to have to go through all that stress just for you; and though he was just as stubborn as you, Kenma gave in and never brought it up again when he saw how upset you had gotten.
But in chest full of ice cubes, there was your cousin, Akihiro-san. Like you, he was different. He wasn't cold, but he was so genuine and real, you couldn't help but doubt his kindness.
A kindness you failed return when he needed it most. So, when you saw your moment of opportunity, you snatched it, regrettably leaving your boyfriend as an afterthought to your decision.
"I owe it to him, Kenma..." You plead in whisper. "I owe to him because he was the only one who was ever nice to me..."
"These are kids," He counters, dipping his head to meet your glossy eyes. He takes your cheek into the palm of his hand, his thumb tracing circles over your skin. "This would be different if it were a puppy or a plant—but these are living and breathing kids and we know nothing about raising kids. My love, we're only in our twenties..."
"But—"
"You should've called first." He cuts you off, his tone still soft , but firm. You’re at least grateful he’s called you your pet name. "You should've called me and asked."
"You would've said no..."
"How do you know? You never called me." There isn't resentment in Kenma's words. Its still  playful and light, but you can feel his hurt and you feel dumb because you know exactly why. "I would've liked to have been included in this decision...especially since this is my home and you are my girlfriend, and you promised that we would make decisions together."
You frown, tears brimming to the surface as you realized what you've done and how you've probably made him feel.You denied him of his choice, and you were silly to believe that it was okay to go over his head and behind his back.
As you whisper a string of apologies, Kenma presses his forehead onto yours, smiling at you. He was angry at first, but not so much anymore.
"Are you going to break up with me?" You sniffle, voice breaking at the thought. "I'd understand if you wanted to break up with me...But I just—I really wanted to help them. I'm so sorry I didn't ask you first, I couldn't just leave them—"
"Shhh," His breath fans against your skin, "I'm not breaking up with you, stupid. Given, this is probably the biggest wild card you've thrown at me by far, but its not enough for me to break up with you."
You hide your face into dip of his neck, sobbing into the material of his sweater, letting go of the strength you had from holding back and stain it with your tears. You had always been reckless, but it never turned him off. He never raised his voice, he always heard you out, and even when you slipped up, he always forgave you in a heartbeat.
It makes you question if you’re deserving of such a love as this. 
“I was very angry and very offended,” Kenma begins, “I didn’t like what you did. It made me feel like you couldn’t trust me, and it made me feel like you saw me as some kind of terrible person that would turn away kids that need a home...”
You shake your heard, muttering a “no” to his assumption. 
Kenma runs his fingers through your hair and down to your back, soothing you until you've caught your breaths. He'll soft press his lips against the crown of your head, discreetly swiping the little sweat off his lips to keep you from being offended.
"S-So, what do we do about the kids?" Your question muffled but Kenma can hear you just fine.
He sighs, and as he's about to pull you away from his chest, you tighten your hold around his waist. "Please look at me," Your shoulders fall and you pout when you come face to face with him. He chuckles at how ridiculously childish you look, "Do you really want to do this?"
Your eyes widen, "Y-yes. I want to do this, but if you don't want—"
"Better us than anyone else, right?" You blink at him, processing. "I don't know shit about kids, but if you really want to do this, I'll support you. But you can't expect me to be good at this."
Kenma falls onto your shoulder and rests all his weight onto you, letting out a sigh. Panic envelopes his heart, his stomach flipping and churning as he stresses over all the things that's yet to come.
“We’ve been dating for four years, and I’ve just only gotten the hang of you now...” He admits in a heavy sigh.
I'm still a kid, he thinks, groaning. He's plays games all day, forgets to shower, and doesn't know how to cook either. He works from home, rarely goes out unless he needs to or if you want to. Out of the both of you, you're--surprisingly-- more put together than he is.
Can he really do this?
"Please don't expect much from me," He begs, "I don't do well with kids, and you even took in a grown one. What if it doesn't like me or if it forget to feed it?"
You chew on your lip, holding back a laugh and quietly smile to yourself. Vulnerability paints well on your boyfriend, and you wish for even more moments like this.
“I promise it’ll only be until we kind find some other arrangement for them...Something better." You’re not entirely confident in your words, but you understand the idea of having them stay with you isn’t the most sound solution. 
"I suppose if we mess up, we'll mess it up together." He says in defeat, sprawling his legs open before wrapping it around you, pulling you as close to him as possible. He cradles your body tightly just as Yuki had done. "You don't understand how unbelievably lucky you are that I love you."
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roger-that-cap · 3 years
Text
meet me in the gardens
knight!natasha x noble!fem!reader
summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected yoru knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either. 
warnings: actually none but a misunderstanding and the lack of editing that i think u guys may or may not be used to at this point
word count: 5.3k
part two!!
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The knight before you was the opposite of a man. She was so opposite in fact, that you had to actively make yourself not appear like you were shocked. You knew that the twins were having to try even harder to keep composure.
She was without a doubt, one of the prettiest people you had ever seen before. Being a lady, you had seen so many handsome young men and gorgeous young women, but there wasn’t one who’s fairness struck you like this woman’s. Her eyes were an unfamiliar shade of blue, and you knew that they were the kind of eyes that were made for surveillance and observation, and if you looked hard enough, maybe a window to her thoughts. She had pink lips that were set into a genuine yet thin smile, almost like she wasn’t used to wordless pleasantries at all. Her hair was cropped just above her shoulders and it shined a brilliant red that you had rarely ever seen. Despite the powerful and extremely potent energy that she was giving off, she was short, shorter than you, but something told you that she was strong. Stronger than anyone knew quite yet, but you could feel it. But, you were still confused, regardless of how she had rendered you breathless for the quickest of seconds.
The problem wasn’t that she was a woman. There wasn’t even really a problem at all. It was just the fact that a woman was a knight. You had never seen anything like it in your entire life, and you had never even thought of the possibility of that happening. At all. You had to fight tooth and nail to keep property that you hardly even wanted, all because you were a woman. Because you weren’t pregnant with a son who could carry his hypothetical father’s name. Because you were a woman without the heir to your late husband’s fortunes, you were seen as nothing, for a long time. And now, there were women who were becoming knights?
You were more impressed than confused.
You felt another pinch from Pietro, this time a little harder. You breathed in through your nose, a welcoming smile on your face as you grappled for words.
“Hello,” you said, public voice still working hard as you internally scrambled for words. You were looking the red headed woman right in her eyes, the eyes that were so intense that if you hadn’t been in rooms where extreme business had gone down, you would have melted. You tried to remember the standard greeting. “Welcome to my keep. I hope that I can accommodate you during your stay, and that you are successful in your search for what it is that you are looking for.” You knew the words were off by a bit, but you saw the coachman nod in approval that you didn’t really care to have.
The knight took a step forward, and the sound of a heavy footstep crashing against your well-kept grass made you shiver. The trampled grass had nothing on the way that you reacted to hearing her voice. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Mirellis. I sincerely thank you for allowing me into your home.”
It was hardly your home, and you could tell that the two of you had already gotten off on the wrong foot. You knew it was because of your shameless staring. “May I be graced with knowing your name?”
If possible, she stood up a little straighter. “I am Natasha Romanoff, My Lady.”
If you were hearing correctly, you heard the slight awkwardness in her last two words. Only people with titles of their own called other lords and ladies “my lady”, and lower born people were to call them “milady”. She must have been lowborn, just like you. “It is my deepest pleasure to meet you, Natasha. May I show you around my keep?”
“Typically,” the coachman cut in, and you furrowed your brows at the way he interrupted the stop-and-start flow of the conversation. “It isn’t the lord—sorry—lady of the house’s job to do that.”
Wanda opened her mouth, highly defensive of you and ready to go because it was a fight she could afford to pick. A servant and a coachman were on the same level. She would face no punishment for talking back to the man. However, you reached to your right and squeezed her hand twice.
“Well, I am the lady of the house, and I would like to show my new guest her accommodations.” The man narrowed his eyes slightly at you, and it became obvious to everyone that he clearly wasn’t expecting back talk from you.
You knew that everyone thought widows were these gentle, sad women. The type that cried themselves to sleep and wished to meet their husbands again in the afterlife. The type that listened at anything that a man uttered simply because he was a man, or because they didn’t have the energy to entertain an arguement or to correct them. Especially ladies. But you were not supposed to be a lady. You wore fancy dresses and had gold and had a small castle to yourself, but part of you would always be that girl who beat up the boys who lived a few acres away for talking about your hair and then rolled in mud with them, laughing about it the very next day.
Even through the glances that were thrown between the five of you standing there, you continued. “My staff has worked so hard on making sure it was nice for her. I’d like to show off their diligence now.” It wasn’t a question.
“Do as you please, milady.”
You resisted the urge to nod smugly. “Thank you.” You watched him climb back onto his chair and quirked a brow. The coachman always stayed for dinner. It was considered offensive if they did not, both to the knight and to the lord or lady. “Did you not want to stay for the meal, good sir?”
“I must get back, milady. If that is alright with you.”
You knew you should utter something lengthy that you didn’t mean at all, but the most you could get out after his blatant rudeness was a quick “safe travels.” There was a long stretch of awkward silence as you watched him leave, arms hanging at your sides as the trotting sound of horses carried him away.
“Goodness, was he rude.”
“Pietro.” Wanda hissed, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. You whirled around to look at the knight— Natasha— and saw that she was already looking at you with blatant curiosity.
“Would it be alright with you if I took you around myself?” You asked, and she nodded her head. “Well, I’m sure you’re hungry. Would you like to eat first?”
You were beginning to realize very quickly that the woman was the staring type. Her eyes, no, her entire face and persona was so demanding and intense. It was hard to even be provoked by her shameless staring and possible judgement, because at least she was open with it. The more you looked at her, though, the more you knew that you would never understand what was happening behind her eyes. “I would like to see.”
“Then you will see,” you stated, and gave Wanda a look. She knew immediately what it meant, and she walked off to tell the chefs to expect you in an hour or so. “We can start with the outside area and make our way in.”
She was very much the staring type. Not even just at faces or people in general, but with everything. You noticed that when anything caught her eye, she looked at it for a few seconds in silence and then moved on, like she heard them speak something unknown to everyone else and took the time to listen.
“These are the training grounds,” you said after walking to the back half of the castle, where the grass was still trained to grow with strength and hardly a thing was out of place. The training grounds were for young squires in the area or kids that just wanted to play fight. You had made the area yourself, and it was one of your favorite parts of your home. You liked being able to look outside and see children playing freely, and the sound of laughter was something that everyone needed in life. “You’re free to use them in any way you see fit, of course.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“You’ll run into aspiring knights here and there, but they are good children.” Your voice was fond as you spoke of them, and then took a right. “And just down here, we have the gardens.”
And gardens, they were. They were the only thing in the castle that was actually yours while your husband was alive. When you had arrived, the patch of land was so disgraced that it would have been insulting to call it a garden. The flowers were droopy, the soil was dry, and the vibrant colors that were once there had been sucked away. Your husband didn’t care about the area, and neither did anyone else, so you adopted it. You had built it from the ground up and made it into what it was; a huge and gorgeous garden full of colors, with ivy hanging from rails in what looked like an unruly manner and bushes full of roses and begonias and everything in between. It was caged off by golden rails, but the rails were hardly binding. They were so wrapped with leaves that it looked like they grew with the garden.
“This is my favorite part of the keep,” you stated softly, walking down it. You had expanded it so that it went down and into the forest, the rails forming a path. You walked down it every so often yourself, deep into the woods where no one would bother you, where you could look at the stars above in peace.
“Is it yours?”
“What?” You asked, tearing your eyes from a particular bush to see her looking up at the ivy.
“This garden,” she said, and you realized that you were strolling closer and closer to the woods. You stopped walking, but didn’t make any move to go and meet her. “Do you tend to it?”
“It’s mine,” you answered, not even bothering to take the subtle pride out of your voice. “It’s my project. I started it when I got here, and now it’s flourishing.”
“Where did you learn how to garden?”
It was no secret that typically, ladies did not get their hands dirty, even if the activity was simple planting. They were supposed to stay inside and knit or something like that. Ladies could go outside to look at gardens, but they had staff to plant for them. So, did Natasha not know that you weren’t born with a title? “When I was a girl,” you answered vaguely.
“Your Lord Father allowed you?”
My father was no lord. “Yours allowed you to wield a sword?” The sound of armor clanking brought you out of your slight hostility, and you sighed. “I apologize.”
“It’s quite alright.” The harshness in her voice told you that she was offended by what you said, and she turned around once she realized that the two of you were nearing the tree line.
You walked around with Natasha, giving her the rest of the tour halfheartedly and only speaking when absolutely necessary. It was clear that the two of you clearly weren’t clicking as well as you hoped to, and while that was tragic, you weren’t going to kiss anyone’s feet to get in their good graces.
“I’m sure you’re hungry by now.” The second you stepped on the wood floors of the inside of your keep, the warmth hit you. Your shoes clicked on the material as you walked ahead of her, not looking back or waiting for an answer. “I’ll show you the kitchens, and then the dining hall.”
The dining hall was known for its size. It was huge, and the ceiling was high. Everything that was said echoed, and the lighting provided by strategically placed candles made the hall have an elegant, almost eerie feeling to it. The staff was already bustling around, plating food and pouring wine. Wanda and Pietro were already there, their harsh and bickering whispers hitting your ears until they heard you approaching.
“Oh, please, sit.” Wanda did so immediately, and Pietro walked around the table to pull out your chair, which sat at the head of it.
You cringed when Pietro sat down. He had been dethroned from his seat at your left hand, because it was courteous of you to give up that seat for your new night. That was one tradition that you wouldn’t break, simply because it would be seen as disrespectful. “You can sit right there, Lady Natasha.” You saw her lip twitch.
In all honesty, you had no idea what to call her formally. You two certainly weren’t close enough to address each other by first name, and you doubted she even knew it. But she wasn’t a man, and male knights were called “Sir”. She wasn’t a “Sir”. You didn’t want to offend her further by calling her it.
The first half of the dinner was in awkward silence. Wanda kept giving you glances, and you frowned at the way she was looking at you- like you had clearly messed something up. You sighed through your nose when you heard Pietro clear his throat, a sound that meant that he was about to run his mouth.
“So, my lady knight, what do you think of the castle?”
The red head didn't even realize she was being addressed until she looked up and saw you and everyone else looking at her expectantly. “It’s very nice.” You waited a bit, listening to hear whatever empty compliments that she would give for the sake of being polite. Ten seconds passed, and there was nothing.
You chuckled. “Thank you,” you answered just as shortly, holding back the urge to laugh much louder than was appropriate.
“So, where are you from?”
“The slums.” You nod in acknowledgment, and guilt. Sometimes you repressed the images of people living from coin to coin. But silly you, silly everyone. For there to have been people on the top, there had to be people at the bottom. And those who lived at the bottom lived in what were called “the slums”. “I don’t know if you would know anything about that, My Lady.”
Wanda made a noise that told you that the bold knight’s words were clearly meant to wound you, and Pietro’s brows shot upwards so quickly that you barely saw the movement happen. You stared at your plate, jaw dropped open in surprise and mortification.
You were fuming on the inside. How the hell would she know who you were? What you dealt with? How your husband was as cruel as he was disgusting? How you grew up a poor farmer’s daughter? She didn’t know, and that was what kept you grounded. How could she have known?
Before you could get in your right mind to utter a threat that you were sure that your late husband had said in your presence at least once, you nodded your head and took it in stride. You stood up from the table and didn’t look at her or the confused look she shot you after looking at your painfully unfinished plate.
“Wanda will show you to your chambers, Lady Natasha. I hope you enjoy your first dinner of many here at my castle, and I hope that tonight begins your yearlong journey to wisdom.” And with that, you turned on your heels after taking your plate shamelessly, heels clacking against the polished floor once again, silence filling the hall until long after you left.
§§
By the third day Natasha was there and the second that you had been blatantly avoiding her, you were starting to feel bad for fueling the fire between you two. She was to stay under your roof and do what she had to for a full year, and you antagonized her. You gave the sacred act of showing a knight to their room to someone else, and you understood Natasha’s lack of speech towards you to be a consequence of that.
But that was fine. You certainly didn’t need for the girl to like you. It would have made things much easier and smoother, but it wasn’t a necessity. Your job was to give her food, water, shelter, and time to find herself and her purpose as a knight. Nothing said that the two of you had to be as thick as thieves.
But that also didn’t mean that you would actively pass on befriending her. You decided after a long time of sitting at the polished wooden desk that had become yours that you would be her friend should fate allow it, and if not, there was no harm to it. But you weren’t going to chase her, no matter how wonderfully her bright hair would work as an object to follow.
A soft calling of your name happened seconds before Wanda opened the door. You greeted her informally and grinned at her, until you saw the look on her face and the sealed paper in her hand. Immediately, your joyful expression left and you sighed.
“Who is it this time?” Wanda shut the door behind her after your question, and you gave her a look. “It can’t be Lord Rumlow again.”
Brock Rumlow was not a good man. No man who had power was a good man, but he was one of the worst. He had gone through two wives in the past three years, and the second one was found with stab wounds in the forest. How he had gotten out of being tried for her murder was beyond you, and it made you sick to your stomach every time you thought about it. Now, he set his sights on you, a widow sitting on plenty of money and land. He had been sending you letters, flowers, gold, dresses, anything that a narcissistic man would think that another human being would like simply because the things were tangible. And the letters always said the same old thing; to marry him. And he wasn’t ever really asking.
“It’s him,” Wanda confirmed, her tone telling you that she felt the same way you did towards the vile man.
“I want to burn it,” you said, and immediately, Wanda crossed the room to put the note in the fire, waiting for your final say. “Let me read what this imbecile has asked for now. I wonder what beautiful horse or jewel he’ll offer for my hand, this time.”
You took the letter from Wanda gently and gave her a small smile, and she urged you to open it, just as nervous to see what was inside as you were. You stared at his seal for a few seconds, eyeing the red wax with a three headed serpent engraved with disdain before tearing it right open. You did the rest without ceremony, your eyes narrowed as you found the messy and unbothered handwriting that you would recognize from anywhere.
Lady of Riverstone,
I take it that my other letters may have been lost to the wind. I apologize for not reaching you earlier. But, if you have been getting my letters, then my main offer stands the same. I would be honored for you to take my name and stand under my veil, and for you to become my wife. Marriage to me would give you a great deal of benefits, and I have listed them down below. I would like an answer within two fortnights, and if I don’t get one, I’ll send another letter.
It was all more of the same, more of the same offers and then a little more, vague threats, and monotonous language that he hardly knew how to use correctly. You read with a neutral expression, even though Wanda was shocked reading all of the things he was offering. He signed it off like he did every other letter.
Lord Rumlow, of Serpent’s Keep.
“He offered you two tons of gold to send your father?”
“Do you notice how he’s never called me Lady Mirellis?” You asked, sipping the chalice of water that constantly sat at your desk, and got refilled whenever someone walked by and saw it nearing empty. “Or by my name?”
“I have.”
“It’s always ‘Lady of Riverstone’,” you sighed, shaking your head. “If he wants the land, he should just go on and say that. It’s much more respectable for him to be honest with me. Maybe I would have said yes already.”
Wanda made a face. “You’re lying, now.”
“Well, of course I am. I've never seen him, and all he wants is a woman to beat around. I’m not that woman, no woman is. Do you think I want to find myself dead within a half year of being wed?” There was a sharp knock on your door.
“He wouldn’t kill you. He wouldn’t gain these assets after your death,” Wanda said softly, understanding that you were about to finish the conversation. “He must be truly desperate to pay ou two tons of gold. That could help nearly anyone out of a pickle, and it would certainly pay off some things back at the farm.”
You knew that. But the truth was… you held a certain amount of irrational and rational disdain for your family. You knew that some of it was warranted just off of the way humans worked in general, but others weren’t. You knew for a fact that a part of you would always be bitter about the way that no one fought hard enough for you not to be taken from your home. You knew that a part of you would be bitter because they took the money that your late husband had offered them, like you were the fattest, most desirable pig in the pen. And there would forever, and ever, be a part of you—if not all of you— that would be angry about your wedding night.
Half of your family showed. The other half came, took you to a back room, and cried. They cried on your night of terror, and you comforted them. It was the one time where you truly needed your mother and her maternal instincts, the one time you needed your brother to teach you some moves that could hurt a man if you needed them. And they either weren’t where you needed them, or weren’t what you needed them. Both truths hurt the same.
“My family doesn’t need money,” you settled on saying, swallowing the burning that came with thinking about the people you shared blood with. “If they needed it, they would ask.”
“Your father is a proud man, he wouldn’t set that pride aside. Especially not to ask one of his own daughters for money.”
“Well, let that be their problem,” you said, although your harsh words weren’t as impactful because of the tremor in them. “I won’t marry Lord Rumlow.”
Wanda leaned forward a bit, and she took both of your hands in hers as the knocking grew louder. She looked you in the eyes, just the way one true friend looked at another. With the same ferocity in her voice as the time when she assured you that no one was going to force you to give up your rights to ladyship, her next words were no louder than a whisper. “And no one will make you.”
Your eyes almost grew watery as you held her hands, feeling the purity of the bond you shared with her surging. “Thank you.” You looked towards the door and let her hands go, uttering a soft command.
Pietro stood there with his arms crossed and a flushed look on his face. He cocked his head to the side at the sight of you and Wanda hovering over a broken open letter, and took a few steps forward. It was upside down, so you turned it his way so that he could read it easier, and the second he recognized the handwriting, he groaned.
“I think I can assume what this is,” he rolled his eyes, and he picked it up and walked over to the fire. When you’d said nothing, he tossed it in and the three of you watched it burn. “I came to tell you that our little knight is strange.”
“How so?”
“Well, she's writing.”
You furrowed your brows. “Writing?” You repeated, remembering her saying that she grew up poor. Most commoners had no idea how to read or write. You only learned because you had to learn when you married a lord. And even if knights had the ability to read and write, they hardly did. Words had very little value to a man who could wield a sword.
But Natasha Romanoff was no man.
“What on earth would she be writing about?” Wanda asked, leaning against the desk. “I wonder if she’s required to write a review on her treatment.”
Pietro gave a short but genuine laugh. “She’s probably writing down terrible things about you to give to the king after she returns home,” he joked, and Wanda cracked a smile, but you couldn’t find it in you to laugh.
“I couldn’t care less about a review of my hospitality or lack therefore of,” you drawled.
Wanda rolled her eyes. “Yes, you do, because you’re a kind person.”
“But she is not.” You felt bad for saying the words that you said not even seconds after.
“We don’t know that,” Wanda reasoned softly. “Actually, I happen to know that she’s quite nice. And she’s level headed and very smart, from what I can see. She’s no man with a little praise under his belt, that’s for sure.”
“So, she’s not boastful.” You said. “That’s good. But I don’t see her and I sharing more interactions than what we need to.”
“With all due respect, Lady Y/N,” Pietro said, leaning forward with that characteristic smirk of his plastered over his face. “You are very dramatic. You always have been.”
You could hardly even pretend to be offended. “That’s not true.”
“It is,” Wanda said quietly, though not fearfully at all. “You are always dramatic, and then things work out.”
Wanda was right. She very much was, actually. Things like the river nearly drying up and crops rotting too quickly and other things that were completely out of your hands terrified you. The things that you couldn’t control made you irrational and erratic, and that was probably your worst fault. You did the same with things you could change, only with worrying. Something as simple as an apology could fix something, but you would sit on giving the apology for hours, sometimes even days.
That night, when it seemed like everyone else was fast asleep and dreaming sweet little images, you put on slippers and walked right outsides, your guards not even asking you where you were going. You walked right out of the side doors and into the garden, humming quietly to yourself as you walked through the entrance of it with your pails of water.
It was quiet besides the noise of bugs chirping, and the occasional flap of wings from birds above. Even your humming had tapered off, and it felt like you could have been able to hear things from miles away. You smiled in the crisp air as you bent over to water a rose bush, a soft affirmation towards the red flowers when you saw how pretty they looked in the moonlight. When you stood back up and turned your head around, you gasped in fright and tumbled towards the ground.
“Shit,” a hand caught your arm and the other was on your shoulder as your chest heaved, adrenaline rushing from being so frightened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you saw me.” It took you a second to see the face of the woman speaking in the moonlight, but when you saw it was the knight, you sighed.
You were set back on two feet, and then Natasha took a step backwards. “Why are you out here?”
She shrugged. “It’s pretty.” There was a stretch of silence as you waited for her to say something, anything else. “It’s safe.”
A part of you was angered by that statement. Yes, the gardens were safe. Of course they were, they were your safety! They were your place that you went to when you felt like nothing was in your control, like your own decisions weren’t yours. Nothing could hurt you in the gardens, and plants couldn’t talk. They held every secret that you could ever tell, they held every tear that you never shed in front of another, and they saw every emotion that you were too stoic to show in front of others. They were the one place that you could get peace. And now the knight has ruined it.
But on the other hand, you were proud of yourself for creating something that someone else can admire. You created something that someone else could be free in, and in a way, that was amazing. And that hand was outweighing the other.
So, you said, “I’m glad it feels that way.” You cleared your throat softly when you realized that you were speaking to her the way you spoke to the twins. “I created it as my own safe space, so I’m glad someone else thinks of it that way, too.”
There was a short yet heavy silence between you and Natasha, and then you saw her turn to face you, her eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. “I know you’re not very excited to have me here, but I’m here. So we can at least try to be cordial.”
“Is that not what we’re being?” You asked, not even taking your eyes off of the moon. “I thought we were even being a little friendly.”
“It would be nice if it lasted.” Natasha muttered, and you nodded your head.
“I don’t know if I offended you with the question about whether or not your father approved your knighthood,” you said, sighing. “I assume that I did. And if you carry around that offense, then I apologize. I don’t like talking about my own father, but you couldn’t have known that.”
“You do not need to be forgiven,” she states. “I apologize, as well.”
“And it’s not that I don’t want you here,” you started, already cursing yourself for going into what she had said not even a full minute earlier. You were tense as she waited for you to continue, but you just shrugged and sighed. “Just know that that’s not it.” Something reached toward you out of the corner of your eye, and you finally turned your head to look at her.
She was… she was nothing short of gorgeous. You were taller than her, so you looked down at her just a little bit. Her red hair looked more brown than anything, and her blue eyes were pale and still as beautiful as they were during the day. There was the smallest hint of a smile on her face, nervous almost, as you looked down at the arm that was reached out your way. The moon was shedding you both its white light, and it primarily rested right where her arm was extended, her palm lord and turned to the side.
She wanted to shake hands with you. Shaking hands was seen as archaic, and knights certainly didn’t touch ladies unless they were assisting them. But, you knew by now that Natasha was not the typical knight. One of her fingers twitched, and you realized that she was just waiting there, her hand hanging in the air, like a gavel ready to drop at any moment. And quickly, almost enough to make the other woman startle, you took her right hand in your own and shook it twice, keeping your eyes right on hers.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
                                                       ******
hiiii guys! still establishing things here with this chapter, but when things kick off, they are going full speed. i already love this fic, and i can’t wait to put all my ideas down for it as the finished product! i hope you guys liked it, and if you did, please show her some love! i have a little taglist building up, so here it goes!
@normanijauregui​ @fayhar​ @8plasma​ @procrastinatingsapphictrash​ 
@slut-for-nat​ @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool​
@200605chaeng​ @thescottishavenger @antidaytime​ @jenny-song​ @madamevirgo​ @natasha-danvers​ @drdarcy-lewis​ @blackxwidowsxwife​ 
209 notes · View notes
barnesbabee · 3 years
Text
ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏᴜʀ- ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ
WONDERLAND MASTERLIST ⇜ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - ꜰᴏᴜʀ-  ɴᴇxᴛ ⟿
CHARACTER LIST:
White Rabbit - Choi Jongho Absolem (Blue Catterpilar) - Kang Yeosang Cheshire Cat - Kim Hongjoong Mad Hatter - Choi San Haigha (March Hare) - Jung Wooyoung Tweedle Dee - Song Mingi Tweedle Dum - Jeong Yunho Bloody Red King - Park Seonghwa
[Send me a DM, an ask or comment to be added to the tag list] Big thanks to my dear friend @smallfrye for making the banner <3
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“She, my friends, is going to trick the King.”
The room echoed with gasps from the crowd.
"Aaaabsolem," the Hatter sang "are you trying to take my place as the mad one? That is not very nice!"
"I'm dead serious. The King has obviously taken a liking to her, she came back to us with a dress and with her head still attached to her body. The King took her for a stroll in the garden! She's the only one that can get close to him. Get close to him, and kill him."
You tilted your head and furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at him in disbelief. Was he serious?
"Sir, or whatever it is I'm supposed to call a caterpillar, I'm not about to kill someone."
"Tell me, what are you going to do?"
You gulped. You didn't know what to do. You didn't know where you were, you weren't even sure you were alive. But from not knowing what to do to committing murder, it went a long, long way.
"I can help you get close to him. That is as far as I'll go. I don't know the laws of this place or the morals anyone has, but where I'm from you can't just kill someone."
The hatter walked closer to you and caressed your cheek.
"My dear, the only law in Wonderland is that you can't disrespect the King's wishes."
"And does the King wish to die?"
The Hatter laughed loudly.
"I supposed not... Sucks to be him I guess! Off you go!" The Hatter said, grabbing your old dress and pushing you into a room to get dressed back into the horrid black and red, heart-decorated dress.
Once you came back all of their faces scrunched in disgust. The King really had ruined red for everyone...
"Alright beautiful, hmm here's the deal," Cheshire told you, twirling and swirling around in the air before settling right beside you "I have so kindly volunteered to take you to the castle. You're not entering thought, you will lay right outside under one of the trees, and you will pretend to be passed out, as our dear Tweedles inform the King that they saw a pretty lady with a black and red dress passed out not far from the castle. The card Knights will bring you in and you will tell the King you were scared when he started yelling. Apologize. You have to apologize, make sure he knows that you think you're in the wrong, because if he starts thinking that you blame him for something he'll lose his mind... And you'll lose your head!"
His tongue grazed along his sharp teeth and he chuckled lowly.
"And that's where Hatter comes in. After a few days, you tell him that he should get a new crown, a bigger one, and you suggest him to commission one from your good friend Hatter. And when Hatter tries to get the measurements, he'll kill the king. Make sure you find the witch in the castle, the King keeps her locked in a cage where she can't perform her magic."
You looked around the room, meeting everyone's expectant (and slightly insane) eyes.
"Fine, but you have to promise that while I'm away you find a way out of here, to send me back home."
The Wonderlanders looked around, with uncertainty in their eyes. They agreed to the promise they knew they would never be able to accomplish. They didn't even know where to start! But if lying was a step closer to their freedom, then so be it.
After going over the plan once more, Cheshire escorted you to the palace. The trip was mostly quiet, aside from his incessant humming and occasional curious questions about your origins. Cheshire kind of scared you... Although he was quite small compared to everyone else you had met, something about him made him very eerie. Maybe it was the way he smiled so widely, maybe it was his sharp teeth or the way his fearless eyes stared at everyone with a seemingly ghoulish look, but the fact was that he scared you beyond belief.
"Hmm, we're here darling." Cheshire sang in his creepy, mellow voice.
You looked at him briefly and watched him disappear into thin air without so much as a goodbye.
You laid under the big tree. The stump was purple and its blue leaves formed a big heart (unsurprisingly), and the soft foliage slowly fell beside you as you tried your best to seem passed out. Soon enough you heard the familiar heavy footsteps and rustling of armor, and you assumed the card Knights were near.
"Miss?" A raspy, deep voice called, as the owner poked you with his sharp spear.
Classy.
You slowly opened your eyes and pretended to be confused with your surroundings.
"Miss it appears you have passed out. The King requires your immediate presence in the castle."
The faceless card Knight commanded two other Knights to pick you up, and so they did, carrying you to the castle not so gently. Once you were past the big, heavy gates you could see the King anxiously (or furiously, you couldn't quite tell) pacing around the big garden decorating the front of the castle.
"Here she is, my King."
The cards released you roughly, nearly pushing you onto the ground.
"Careful! Idiots!" The King yelled and scurried to help you.
He looked into your fearful eyes, and although he could not recognize emotions to save a life, he could tell something wasn't right.
"Should we go for a stroll? I must talk to you..."
You accepted the King's request by taking the hand he extended to you.
"I-I'm sorry for running away, I shouldn't have done that."
You looked down at the grass as you apologized, too afraid to look him in the eye.
"Do I scare you?"
You stopped dead in your tracks and glanced briefly at the King. His eyes were not evil but showed curiosity and hurt instead.
There was a conflict in you, between wanting to be honest and wanting to keep your head. You flinched suddenly as the King's cold hands held yours.
"Please be honest, if the reply must be yes I promise there will be no consequences..."
You gulped.
"Well... Yes, you do scare me a little."
The King looked at the ground, with an adorably confused expression and scrunched nose.
"I guess I could have guessed that... But please, what scared you? What can I do to... not scare you?"
You were baffled that the tyrant King of this land was willing to change for someone like you.
"You must calm down Seonghwa, the way you yelled at someone because of the roses really scared me... Especially the way you asked to get them killed."
The King looked genuinely confused.
"But darling, don't they look so much better in red? Besides, what am I supposed to do to the incompetent peasants?"
"Well, maybe you could reward the people who do well, so the people who don't do well will work harder!"
The King had a disgusted face as you suggested that.
"My darling they are hardly people..."
You looked at him apprehensively.
"Fine, I'll consider your proposal, but only if you join me for dinner. I want to get to know you better."
"I accept your invitation, I have some questions myself."
The King took your hand and lead you inside the palace and up the slippery marble stairs. Everything in the castle was adorned with gold, and every wall had a painting of the King. Both of your shoes clicked against the floor in a movie-like way as you made your way into the big dining hall, that had all types of expensive-looking food.
"Where should I sit?"
The King stood behind a chair right on the other end of the table.
"Here, of course, opposed to me."
You cocked your head and looked at him as if he was stupid.
"Seonghwa how are we supposed to talk if we're so far away?"
"Hm..." The King thought for a second, tapping his chin with his index finger "Well I suppose you could sit next to me."
You smiled and took a seat next to the one where the King sat. It was pretty obvious from the extravagant, unique chair that it was there where he usually sat to have his meals.
"Well, I don't mean to sound rude but I don't even know your name. What should I call you?"
You watched a frogman served the King a couple of slices of whatever animal was roasted and served in a silver platter in front of you. You hadn't even realized he didn't know your name.
"Y/N, my name is Y/N."
"Oh! What a peculiar name! Tell me, Y/N, what is it that you want to ask me?"
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bagelbright-tok · 3 years
Text
Take Me to Funkytown!
____   
Yellow Temperance proves to be a great enemy to Jotaro. Without much of an aid there to assist the teen, he hasn’t much of a choice but to fight for his life. After trying to burn and freeze temperance off of his finger, hope is lost. At least, until an odd individual dances their way into the fight. Ally or enemy? Temperance and Jotaro are unsure.
Jotaro x fem!Reader [Platonic One-shot]
Italics = the music
Word Count: 1,564 Warning(s): Violence, swearing, negligence, bit of social isolation, intense grooving, swearing again, gross horny man tries hitting on reader, I did not re-read __ Blame It on the Boogie! __
You were mostly just touring Singapore for your own personal reasons. You had nothing else to do and you got bored quickly. So, you packed your bags and left for Singapore. You had the essentials; clothes, personal hygiene products, and your Walkman cassette player and headphones. The flights over were smooth as could be. Not like you noticed much anyhow. Most of the time, you had your headphones on, listening to the several cassettes you also had brought in your bag. Since you’d left, you’d made 0 social interactions with other humans. That didn’t bother you in the least. You didn’t necessarily care much for making friends along the way. In fact, you dreaded when people would talk to you. They were annoying, quite frankly. So you would drown out the voices with your music. The only problem was that you would get sick of listening to the same songs over and over again. The perks of traveling were being able to try out new music from places around the world.
Your thoughts were mostly blank while you peered out of the train window at the city you were approaching. “Hey pretty lady~!”
A man’s voice quickly pierced the air around you. But you couldn’t hear him over your loud music. He noticed that quickly and took this as a sign to sit right next to you. “What’s a girl like you sitting all by yourself?”
You scooted away from him once you noticed he had sat next to you. Your smiling expression quickly turned into a frustrated one. You couldn’t hear the man, but his presence alone made you uncomfortable. You became infuriated when you felt his hand remove your headphones. “C’mon girl, don’t-”
You didn’t let him finish as you summoned your Stand, and sent it lunging at the man. Your Stand, Ace’s Wand, representing the tarot card Ace of Wands, was a Stand with the form that could vary depending on your mood and the sounds in the air. With you angry without music, your Stand took on a horrifying form that you could barely comprehend. The noises it made as well were scary. All you could see was the body of the annoying man getting flung like a ragdoll. His body was crumpled like a piece of paper on the other end of the train.
You scoffed, grabbed your headphones, and returned to your position. Your music continued and your site seeing went on. Everyone was scared and confused as they surrounded the man in concern. “Won’t you take me to Funkytown?” You bobbed your head to the beat while everyone whispered in a hushed and terrified tone.
***
The train ride turned into a cableway ride. You sat in a cable car with a man, his kid, and their dog. The kid happily snacked on his popsicle as he enjoyed the view from the car. You were doing the same, except you were listening to your music instead of snacking on a popsicle. Looking out the window, you noticed a guy on a cylindrical shaped building that was tall enough to reach the height of the cable car. It was an odd sight for sure, you even gave him a confused squint. You noticed his sights landing on your cable car. You blinked a couple of times. Your eyes quickly widened when you saw him back up, then charge forth towards your car.
“Oh shit!” You whispered loudly. The teen landed on the car and clutched to the side you had been viewing from. You noticed a purple figure emerge from him and rip the door off the car. Things only got weirder. The man peered at you, then turned his attention to the kid with the popsicle. 
“Hey kid, I am gonna need to use this.” The kid began to cry until the teen spoke again, “Alright, I’ll buy you a new popsicle when we reach the ground.”
The kid nodded, and the tall teen rose back to his height. Your headphones had been knocked off during the impact of the teen crashing into the car. You hardly noticed, even hearing the teen talk and hearing yourself talk. “Whoa! What an entrance! What the hell are you doing?” You blurted out.
“Is this your kid, lady?” The black haired teen asked.
“What? Hell no.”
“Then shut up and enjoy the view.”
Your brows furrowed at that statement. It was of annoyance, but then it turned into confusion when you noticed the yellow blob on the teen’s hand. Just what was going on? You could only ask this as the teen pressed the cold treat onto the yellow substance, wincing in pain in the process as the gross yellow jello spiked and stabbed into his hand. Things only escalated when another presence began to enter the cable car through the door that the teen had rudely ripped off. The presence was similar to the substance on the teenager’s hand, except larger and with another person inside.
“Can’t you get it through your thick skull?” The deep male voice spoke in a taunting manner that sent shivers down your own spine. “My Stand, Yellow Temperance, is indestructible! No matter how much power you may have, you cannot beat my Stand!”
Well shit. It means you’ve found yourself in a Stand battle. You found yourself even more infuriated than before on the train. The black haired teen referred to as Jotaro had ripped a pole from the car and tried to swing it at Yellow Temperance. It wasn't just Jotaro, though. It was his Stand, a large purple humanoid entity that was clearly fast and strong. Angered, you put on your headphones and stood up. It was as the Stand projected itself onto Jotaro and the cable car that things got weird.
Jotaro and the user of Yellow Temperance were now looking at you. Your expression was scrunched up and you could feel the heat rising. With the beat of your music, you had better control of your Stand. "Don't blame it on the sunshine!"
You moved with the rhythm and summoned your Stand without further comment. "Don't blame it on the moonlight."
"Holy shit!" Temperance's user yelled in horror as his eyes laid on your Stand. You could barely make that out with your music as loud as it is.
"What the hell!" Jotaro also exclaimed, but not as loud. Based on Temperance's reaction, it clued him in on the fact that you are clearly not with him. A relief, but also, you aren't with the Joestars.
"Don't blame it on the good times." Just as Temperance was about to latch onto you, you sent out your Stand first. "Blame it on the-!" "BOOGIE!" Your Stand screeched as it went up against the yellow Stand.
The enemy user only screamed as he witnessed your Stand vigorously and aggressively stabbing and digging through his sludge. Even while your Stand could make contact with his, it couldn't be said that the situation could be switched around. Your Stand's form was horrifying in itself, but the idea that his Stand with no weaknesses couldn't touch your Stand was just as terrifying. 
Jotaro realized the opportunity he had now. The enemy had even panicked and removed his Stand from Jotaro. He wasn't even paying attention to Jotaro anymore. You knew why. The fear was overwhelming. You are the greater threat at the moment to him. You bore your eyes into Jotaro, telling him to make his move if he wants it. Your Stand was slowly making its way closer and closer to the user with its claws. Just as your Stand was about to make it to the enemy, with him sobbing, Jotaro used his Stand's fist to punch the user and knock him unconscious. Your Ace's Wand stopped mere inches away from The Temperance card holder. Your Stand emitted a sickly wheeze of laughter before being de-manifested. You were still grooving to the song, though.
"This magic music grooves me! That dirty rhythm moves me! The devil's gotten to me through this dance!"
Jotaro was unsure of how to communicate with you. That uncertainty was cleared up, though, when you yourself removed your ear buds and spoke.
"Hey! Jotaro right?" You chuckled, pointing at him. Jotaro nodded, knowing you had caught his name in the fight. "That was pretty cool. We should do that again sometime."
"What?" Is all Jotaro could murmur in confusion as response to your suggestion.
"I'm [Y/N] [L/N]." Your pointing finger turned into an open palm hand to shake Jotaro's. "I'm a Stand user, too. Not like.." You looked down at the unconscious and shirtless man at your feet. "...him, though. I'm cool, like you."
Jotaro hated women who fawned over him. Most of the female students who crowded him referred to him as "cool," as well. Hearing you say it, though, was different. It wasn't of lust or love like those ladies at school. It was of genuine friendship and curiosity.
"That's.. Great." Jotaro said, extending his hand out and shaking yours. "Hey, I have a question…"
"Go ahead and shoot!" You shook his hand and returned yours to your side.
"Could you join us on our mission to Egypt?" Jotaro is well versed in being blunt and very straightforward. Not that you would know that.
You paused and processed what he had said. " "Our...?" Mission..? Egypt!?"
___
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A/N: AAAA! This has been sitting in my docs for sooo long! I had no idea where to take it and how to end it. Finally figured it out though! Apologies if it seems rushed or half-assed. This one is very similar to the In With A Bang one-shot. Introducing a character in that fashion. Also, In With A Bang has reached over 100 notes!! That's fuckin bonkers! Please go give it a read if you haven't! I promise it's better than this one, lol!
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creweemmaeec11 · 3 years
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I'm not sure what this little snippet is, but enjoy it anyway I guess aha!
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It was about time the hero tried a different tactic. They were tired of waiting for the villain to do something, then showing up to stop it. This time, the hero wanted to stop the villain before anything happened in the first place.
It was genius, really, and was something the hero really should have tried a long time ago.
The only problem, was *finding* the villain in the first place.
It wasn't like the hero had a home adress.
He'd spent nearly two hours scouring the city, hopping from rooftop to rooftop with no sign of anything abnormal when he heard a faint, almost whimpering sound.
The hero was thankful they had heightened senses, otherwise they may not have heard it at all.
They used their super strength to climb up the tall building, continuing to hop a few more rooftops when they froze.
Their eyes landed on the villan. He was sitting on a slightly sloped roof, back against a brick wall where the building continued upward. Their knees where pulled taught to their chest, cape wrapped around them like a blanket to shield them from the chill of the cool night air. One arm was wrapped around their knees, holding their dagger while the other hand was wiping at their face, trying to disperse the tears- *they were crying*.
The hero suddenly felt uneasy. What were they supposed to do here? They always saw the villain as cold, heartless, emotionless but, clearly that wasnt the case. They weren't sure what to do, or even how to feel with that information.
Information they clearly weren't supposed to have, given how high up and secluded this spot was. The villain clearly wanted to be left alone.
But, they were a hero! They're job was to help people and this villain was clearly in distress! He couldnt just leave!
They jumped onto the same roof as the villain, who didnt seem to notice. They were still a good 7-10 meters away from them, but the villain was usually very intune with the environment. The hero had never been able to get even near this close to them without the villain being fully aware.
They were now close enough to use their enhanced hearing to hear the ragged breathes and rapid heartbeat of the other.
The hero took a breath.
"Beautiful night out tonight," the hero offered in a friendly, conversational tone. They were smart enough to know that directly asking what was wrong wouldnt get them anywhere.
The villains reply came in form of a violent flinch and sharp inhale of breath. Their head snapped to look at the hero, shock and... was that *fear* written all over their face?
The villain never wore a mask, much like the hero, but they did usually have a hood down over their face, so being able to see it this clearly was strange.
However, with being able to see it this clearly, the hero could see how red and puffy the area around their eyes were, their cheeks thoroughly damp with tears, their eyes red.
The villain immediately directed their dagger at the hero, scrambling backwards across the roof frantically.
The hero held their hands up, "I come in peace,"
The villain stared at them in shock for a moment, "why are you... what... how long have you been..."
Before the hero could reply, the villain shook their head, steeling their features and pushing themselves to their feet. They wiped their face and took a deep breath, grasping for some sense of composure.
"What do you want?!" They snapped, "Why are you here?!"
Their grip tightened on their dagger.
"Theres no need for that, I come in peace, I swear," the hero tried.
"As if you would ever show up just to chat," the villain hissed.
The hero surveyed the situation. Clearly, the villain, who was usually overly composed and smooth, was distressed.
The villain was doing a good job faking composure, but it was obvious in way their fret twitched, weight shifting from foot to foot, fingers flexing while their eyes darted all over the place. They were one wrong word away from taking off.
Right now, the hero was a threat, and he needed to be seen as not one.
Slowly- very slowly, so the villain could track their movements, the hero sat down on the roof, sliding themselves to sit back against the brick wall like the villan had previously. He bend a knee, resting his elbow on it as he looked out at the city. They didnt look over at the villain, trusting their super hearing to tell them if they moved.
"The view from up here is pretty breath taking," The hero commented casually.
"What?"
"My favourite spots are usually around the inner city, like the tops of the big office buildings, but this spot might be even better, with the already tall building being on a hill and all."
Finially the hero dared a glance at the villain.
They were standing in the same spot, though their posture was more relaxed. They were staring at the hero with a dumbstruck look on their face.
"What are you doing?" They asked, narrowing their eyes.
"I mean, we could talk about the weather if youd rather?" The hero smirked.
The villain glanced away, seemingly considering running again.
"Come on," the hero added, "it's not like you have anything interesting going on tonight,"
"That's a rude assumption to make," The villain replied jokingly, crossing his arms and relaxing more as he glanced at his feet.
"Please, you know if you had something important going on tonight I would have been bat signaled already,"
The villain snorted at that. They gave the hero another look over, before caving and settling back down against the roof.
"Is this your way of telling me your bored? Have I not been active enough for you?"
"Thats- not what I meant," the hero sputtered, causing the villain to chuckle slightly.
The hero glanced over, watching the villain twirl his dagger in the air mindlessly. Or, well, mindedly, considering they were using their telekinesis. But it was twirling in a non threatening way, just spinning in the air like a spin top.
"That's a pretty cool trick," the hero commented.
"What? Oh-" the villain blushed, plucking the dagger out of the air like he hadn't even realized hed been doing it.
"sometimes I wish I had a cooler power," the hero started so the villain wouldnt have to explain themselves.
"Wait, really?" The villan asked, looking at the hero in shock.
"Yeah, I mean, dont get me wrong, enhanced senses and strength are certainly handy, but they arnt as cool as like flight,"
The villain hummed, fidgeting with the dagger in their hands, twirling the tip against their finger.
"Super senses also have their downsides, like when someone is trying to surprise you by baking you something, but you can smell it before you even get in the house,"
"I get the feeling theres a story there,"
"Friends tried to throw me a surprise party, I could hear them shuffling and whispering from down the hall, and I could smell the cake and such,"
"Only a hero would view not being able to be surprised as a *downside*" the villain replied, rolling their eyes.
"I guess I shouldn't complain though, it helps with being a hero a lot, without the hearing I probably wouldnt have heard you,"
Out of the corner of his eye, the hero saw the villain immediately tense, bristling slightly.
"Is that why your here? Doing this? You think I'm someone in need of saving?" They hissed.
"Partly," the hero admitted, "I dont think anyone deserves to be alone when there upset, but I'm also making sure you arent up to anything dastardly,"
"Oh yeah, I'm always doing something villainous alright, like crying on a rooftop," they replied mockingly, before realizing they were admitting to crying.
"I wont pressure you into an answer, but you know I have to ask..." the hero replied after a moment of silence.
"Theres no way-"
"Before you turn me down," the hero interjected, "consider I'm one of the few people who may actually understand, considering the uh... line of work,"
The villain stared with a blank, unreadable expression for a few moments, before huffing and looking off to the horizon again.
"Its the anniversary of something. That's the only information your getting,"
The hero hummed in response, continuing to look off into the horizon. They both stayed silent.
In the end, it was the villain who broke it.
"I need to go." They stated, standing up.
"oh really? Where are you off to?" The hero asked with genuine curiosity.
The villain shot them a baffled look, "you know I'm not going to tell you that... right?"
"Oh,"
"Your weird, hero,"
"Why thank you," The hero joked.
"Until next time," The villain stated, before stepping backwards off the roof.
"Farewell!" The hero called.
Things were... different after that night.
Second part here!
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gojos-sidepiece-69 · 3 years
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Tokyo Tech Training- Chapter 2
Your eyes snapped open and you met eyes with your lover from last night. Fuck. Did that actually happen? It shouldn’t have. Damn it. No, god, no. I got drunk and had an insane fever dream, that’s it. Your brain worked in overdrive trying to rationalize your decisions from last night. Intense waves of shame and guilt washed over you when you realized that you were, indeed, practically sober.
You woke up with no headache. Your hips, however, were a different story altogether. “Morning, sunshine,” your dimpled teacher said intoxicatingly. It was too early for his bullshit. “Please, Gojo. Not now. I’m going to go home and pretend this didn’t happen, okay? Great.” His grin widened as he pointed out, “Oh, so we’re on name-to-name basis now? I thought I was still your Sensei.”
You ignored him and firmly got up only to catch a glance of yourself in a full body mirror. You saw purple peeking out at you from under Gojo’s shirt. You pulled it down slightly and felt at your raw, sore love bites. “Sorry about those, I always like it a bit rough,” Gojo explained, still shamelessly man-spreading in his bed. “I could tell,” you deadpanned. You lifted up the hem of your shirt to inspect the degree of damage he had done to your hips, and it was bad. You could barely even walk straight. You were planning on a pleasant walk-of-shame home, but seeing the state of your condition, that was now out of question. As if he read your mind, he said “I’ll give you a ride back.”
You got a sneak peak into the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer’s morning routine, which included putting on his dumb blindfold and dark navy uniform. He handed you your clothes from the previous night, taking extra care to comment about how he was upset he didn’t get to see you in your “cute little lacy bra.” Everyone had left earlier that morning, knowing from previous experience not to wake Gojo in the morning. In addition, they didn’t want to take their chances while their airhead of a teacher took the steering wheel, blasting trap music way too damn early. You, however, had the treat of experiencing this first-hand. “All aboard!” He said childishly as you stepped into his black BMW. He immediately turned the volume of his music all the way up, humming to Pick it Up by Famous Dex.
You closed your eyes, and muttered a silent prayer that you wouldn’t die in a freak accident on the way home. With your luck, Gojo would crash straight through a KFC Drive-Thru and laugh about it.
You were shaken out of this scary afterthought when you realized that Gojo was driving 65 MPH in a 35 zone. “What the hell? Slow down!” You yelled, but your driver only looked at you and laughed. “You didn’t have a problem with me going fast last night.” You gritted your teeth. Of course he was going to make your drive home as sarcastic and filled with as many horrible sex jokes as possible. The worst part was that you, at the back of your mind, were fighting back a small laugh. But you weren’t about to confirm that he was funny. So you slowly exhaled through your nose, until your breath hitched at the back of your throat.
Gojo’s hand had snuck past the gear and onto your knee. Keeping his (inexplicably blindfolded) eyes on the road, it slowly snaked up to your thigh and rested there. He could feel you tense up and smiled to himself. He loved the effect that even just his hands had on women. The sensation gave you flashbacks of the night before. He touched a bruise on your inner thigh that he had licked and sucked so tenderly last night, and you shuddered. He drew small circles, but didn’t go any further.
The tires screeched to a halt right outside Tokyo Tech, and you clambered out of his car as fast as you could. You left in such a rush that you dropped your “cute, lacy bra” on the passenger-side floor. You didn’t even notice. Luckily it was Sunday, and you wouldn’t have to worry about seeing your teacher until tomorrow. “Have a great day!” He yelled after you, and you flipped him off classily without so much as a backwards glance for your superior. As soon as you got to your dorm, you dramatically collapsed onto the mattress.
You were so tired from fooling around the entire day yesterday that you slept through Sunday in its entirety. You arose early Monday morning and groaned when you remembered that it was going to be your first Field Training day. And you were absolutely correct in thinking that you were most definitely not ready.
“Each of you will be assigned a Jujutsu Sorcerer to shadow for your field practice today. Watch how they exorcise curses, take mental notes, and follow each of their directions carefully. Megumi and Nobara, you’ll be going with Nanami. Yuji and Y/n, you’re stuck with me,” Gojo said, keeping eye contact with you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. You thought to yourself, I might as well just start calling it blindfold-contact, if I can’t see his gorgeous eyes. I mean, eyes. Gojo whistled and led you and Yuji back to his black car. Yuji ran like the track-star he was, yelling “SHOTGUN!” so loudly that you didn’t care to argue.
He threw the door open and leaped into the passenger seat, while Gojo took the wheel and you occupied the backseat. Yuji took the liberty of connecting to the aux, this time blasting Tetris by Derek King. Once again, it was way too early in the morning to be listening to songs about ass. But this issue did not seem to exist for the Tokyo Tech’s favorite resident ass men, Yuji and Gojo. Or as you liked to call them, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dumb-ass.
Not even a comfortable minute into the drive, Yuji energetically bent over and picked up your forgotten bra. “Ooh, looks like Gojo Sensei is getting some! Who’s the unlucky girl?” Yuji joked around. “Oh, Gojo. GOJO,” the pink-haired puppy-boy fake moaned like an animal in pain while poking fun at his teacher. Your sensei, ever the enabler of horrible jokes, chuckled along. He glanced up into the rear view mirror and made eye contact with you, breaking it as soon as he swerved into the wrong lane. “At least tell me what she looked like!” Yuji practically bursted at the seams. Gojo sighed and offered a single comment to his student that was enough to temporarily stave off his curiosity and shut him up. “She had a great ass.”
You heard a genuinely amazed “Wow!” from your fellow first-year as blush once again danced onto your cheeks. You broke the car’s mounting tension by piping up and asking, “So where are we actually going?” Gojo explained that their Field Practice entailed an actual mission to retrieve one of Sukuna’s fingers. What the hell? You thought to yourself. You had barely one day of instruction and you were being thrown into the deep end already? Jesus Christ. But somewhere deep inside your mind, you knew that Gojo cared for his students and would never let any of them get hurt.
Rudely interrupting your thoughts for the millionth time, Gojo interjected, “But we’re stopping by the bakery first. I need my morning fix.” Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food just as you remembered you hadn’t eaten yet today. With one shitty parallel-parking job, you had arrived right outside the Ichiban Pan bakery. The three of you filed into the bakery, the bell on the door ringing as the sweet aromas supplied you with some much-needed serotonin. You walked up to the counter, and immediately noticed how beautiful the cashier was. She had long, dark hair and a figure that anyone would drool over.
To your surprise, she said, “Gojo...back here already? I knew you hadn’t had enough of me yet,” as she eyed him lustfully. “Of course I had to come back for seconds. Your goods were just so...soft and sweet,” he smiled coyly as he leaned onto the counter and shamelessly flirted back. The woman reached over and toyed with Gojo’s blindfold as his smile grew. She said, “So, when are we going to have some more fun?” He answered, “Always so eager, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll get your turn soon.” You couldn’t tell if your face was heating up with annoyance at the thought of Gojo delaying the mission to flirt with one of his girls, or at the fact that you felt...jealous. Jealous that you weren’t the only one he had eyes for, and envious that this girl was older and maybe even more attractive than you. She made you feel plain in more ways than one, and your mind started to wander.
Did Gojo touch her like how he touched me? How many girls has he had before? How many is he with right now? Damn it. You shook off the bothersome thought. Maybe it was your innate competitiveness as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but you knew you had to get him back. Fair and square. You told yourself it wasn’t because you wanted more from him, but it was because you wanted to make him feel jealous in the exact same way. Whatever it was, whenever the time would come, you were going to leave him frustrated.
Three delicious dangos and thirty minutes later, you found yourself at the site of the curse: a closed off mall. While you were now right outside of the car, you could feel the cursed energy radiating out from its epicenter. “There’s one unregistered first-grade curse that you need to extract Sukuna’s finger from. And I’m going to osbserve,” Gojo said while he sat on the hood of his car. “You’re going to what? I’ve barely had ANY training,” you sputtered angrily, but Yuji was already pulling your arm and dragging you towards the curse. Well, you thought to yourself. Might as well prove yourself a worthy comrade to Yuji and a promising student for...he didn’t matter right now. The two of you sprinted forward as Gojo lowered a dark veil over the area, blackening the sky.
Yuji shoved the front doors open and leapt inside, and you jumped in after him. The lights were broken and flickering, casting an eerie glow over the abandoned mall. The escalators were still running, but you could hear distant crashing sounds. “This way!” Yuji yelled, as the two of you sprinted up the escalator to the second floor. The crashing increased in volume, and it was clearly coming from a destroyed souvenir shop ahead.
You laid eyes on the grotesque curse, which resembled a deformed, melting, red plastic mannequin that was at least twice your height. Its arms immediately extended and shot out at you, but you dodged out of the way. You hadn’t learned any techniques yet, so it seemed like you and Yuji would be teaming up and harnessing your raw cursed energy to deliver blows to the mannequin. The curse opened its mouth to reveal jagged teeth that caged in one of Sukuna’s fingers. “There it is!” you shouted. But in an instant, both you and Yuji were caught off guard and knocked to your feet by the mannequin’s extended arms.
They grew spikes that jutted out and beat into your sides. You yelped and coughed in pain, starting to see blood pool out from under your uniform. You gritted your teeth and tried your best to deliver blows to sever the curse’s arms, but it was useless. Yuji, too, seemed trapped in between the sharp spikes. After ten minutes of intense stabbing pains and useless struggle against this first-grade curse, Yuji piped up. “I think I’m going to have to let Sukuna take over and destroy this curse.” Your eyes widened. You had only heard stories of the demon king, and they were all horrific. But it was between that and death, and you both made the split-second decision. “Do it,” you nodded.
You watched from your position as Yuji let Sukuna take over his body. Black tattoos etched their way across his toned body, which was exposed to you after he carelessly tore his tightening shirt off. His smile grew wide and you heard a malicious laugh. “Fool,” Sukuna said directly to the curse, before ripping its right arm off with brute force. “You think you’re any match for me?” Before its arm could regenerate, Sukuna tore off its other one and freed you before tossing you aside like a corpse while informing you that you were “in his way.” You hit your head against the front window of the store and groaned. You watched the mannequin open it’s mouth and shoot out it’s razor-sharp dagger teeth at Sukuna, but he just grabbed onto the curse’s head and tore it right off with ease.
He reached two fingers into the curse’s mouth and extracted the finger, examining it with a slight grin before swallowing it. “Feels so good,” he murmured while throwing his head back and laughing loudly. A wave of confusion washed over you. If the job was done, why hadn’t Yuji switched back yet? What was going on? You shivered and backed up slightly as Sukuna turned his head to look down at you.
“You know,” he drew out a breath as he kneeled down and picked up a scrap of cloth from Yuji’s torn shirt. “I haven’t taken over a vessel in ages. And that means I haven’t had a woman in a very,” he stepped closer to you, “Very long time.” You looked up at him from the ground, taking in his mouthwatering physique. This curse made you forget about logic for a minute and revert to primal instinct. The first thought that ran through your brain was running your tongue over his abs. However, a second later, you had an even better idea. Why not let Sukuna have his way with me? That would show Gojo. I want him to hear me moaning while he’s still sitting in his stupid BMW, blood rushing to his dick as he thinks about me getting fucked stupid by the undisputed king of curses. That thought alone was enough to push you to answer, “And what do you want me to do about that?”
“You’re going to do as I say. Let me fuck you until you can’t remember your own first name.” Your heat throbbed at that, and Sukuna wasted no time binding your hands together tightly with the scrap of cloth. This was really happening. You were about to get destroyed by the legendary Sukuna in the shattered storefront of a souvenir shop. In the dark. Without any semblance of a warning, Sukuna ripped your uniform top right off of your body, leaving behind only scraps of fabric. You shivered at the sensation of being exposed to the cold. You looked up at him wearing only your plain black bra and uniform skirt, and his eyelids lowered. “Fucking slut,” he said, as he ripped off your bra with the same fervor. He smiled hungrily as your nipples perked from the chills, and groped at your breasts with both hands.
He admired how they fit perfectly within his calloused hands, and how he could feel your heartbeat rapidly soar. With fear. Humans really are useless creatures, aren’t they? He thought before he demanded, “Open your mouth.” You complied, and he slid two long digits all the way inside. You felt one hit the back of your throat and you moaned onto his fingers as they slid back out. He rubbed his fingers back onto your breasts, coating them with the wetness of your own saliva. You moaned loudly with pleasure, positive that your pathetic Sensei could hear you from outside.
“That’s good.” Sukuna approved of your moaning. The thought of him making you arch your back, screaming and crying for him pushed him on further. His hands aggressively found your skirt, tearing it easier than paper. He looked down at your soaked panties and felt the urge to make you feel small and embarrassed. “You’ve gone and made a mess of yourself. I’ll just have to get rid of them,” you saw Sukuna’s tongue move around in his mouth as he forcefully tugged off your panties. His hunger got the best of him, and he bent down to let his tongue take one long lap along your dripping cunt. “Fuck,” he breathed as you threw your head back, hitting against the wall. “I haven’t tasted a woman in so long,” he said, before bending back down and slipping his tongue into your slit.
His strong arms kept your shaking legs pried wide open for him, sharp nails tightly gripping into your thighs, and you could only groan louder. He continued to drink at your slippery juices until you screamed and came into his mouth. He licked his lips as he pushed your thighs back together and lifted himself up. “I’m not even close to finished with you yet,” he growled, sensing you getting slightly tired.
He lifted you up and threw you onto your stomach. You propped yourself up shakily using your elbows while he pushed your head down with one of his hands. You arched your back for him, granting him an easier entrance. Kneeling behind you, he teased his dripping tip at your folds while squeezing at your ass. The buildup was almost too much for you to take, so you began to whine “Suku-,” but before you could finish, he entered you roughly. Sukuna mercilessly railed into your pussy from behind, one hand simultaneously gripping your hair and pushing your head down, while the other dug crescent-shaped nail marks into your hips.
His pace was so fast that you could only scream and curse and whine his name, but he only laughed and threw his head back. “Sl-slower,” you begged, tears spilling down your face, but Sukuna maintained his speed. Your useless request only prompted him to move his hand from your hair to your throat, gripping you tightly. “Don’t ask me that again,” he growled, still thrusting.
You could feel his thrusts become more loose and sporadic, and finally he pulled out and groaned deeply while spilling his cum all over your thighs. You panted and stood up slowly, but you held back a shocked scream. You watched in horror as Gojo Satoru stood before you, blindfolded eyes trailing over the white, creamy liquid dripping down your thighs. You instinctively covered your breasts and cunt, managing a weak, “how long were you watching?” Gojo took a step forward. “Well, I decide to assess the situation for myself when I heard you screaming for mercy, so I came in at about the time...” he mimed checking a fake watch, “a 1000-year-old curse started pounding you from behind.”
You blushed, heart racing from the exposure and accidental voyeurism. You hadn’t expected him to actually come see you for himself. However, your eyes took a quick trip to see a growing bulge in your Sensei’s pants. You smiled to yourself as you thought, mission accomplished.
🌹
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penny-anna · 3 years
Text
Hirsute (a tale in five acts)
The bard's shirt, loose-fitting as it was, had come untucked at the back, revealing a strip of pale skin – and a line of dark hair running down the base of his spine, dipping out of sight down below the waistband of his breeches and up behind his shirt and doublet. It was the heat, she’d reflect later, that made her so uncharacteristically loose-lipped. “Does it go all the way up?”
Five times Yennefer was curious about Jaskier's back hair and one time she had her curiosity sated.
(on Ao3!)
1.
It was late summer, and sticky. Yennefer brought her own breeze with her into the tavern, ruffling her hair and the hem of her dress, ignoring the puzzled and fearful looks from the villagers.
Geralt was nowhere in sight. Jaskier was leaning over the bar, waiting lazily to be served. He gave her a cursory nod as she approached. Over the past months he’d grown rather more civil with her; more inclined to be coolly polite, rather than insult her to her face. She’d consider it an improvement, if she cared a whit how he talked to her.
His shirt, loose-fitting as it was, had come untucked at the back, revealing a strip of pale skin – and a line of dark hair running down the base of his spine, dipping out of sight down below the waistband of his breeches and up behind his shirt and doublet.
She’d had enough glimpses of his arms and legs and chest to know he was hairier than his boyish face would suggest. But this was – intriguing. She studied that sliver of hair, and wondered how far up it went.
Idly, she reached out to lift his shirt and take a peek.
Jaskier caught her wrist before she could lift it more than an inch. “What are you doing?” he drawled, either unamused or perhaps too muzzy from the heat to muster much of a reaction.
“Nothing,” said Yennefer sweetly, tugging her hand out of his grip. She looked again at his back. It was the heat, she’d reflect later, that made her so uncharacteristically loose-lipped. “Does it go all the way up?”
The bard stared at her over his shoulder. He stood up straight, and tucked his shirt back into his breeches with pointed and theatrical motions. “That,” he said, “is absolutely none of your business.”
2.
It had been autumn for over a month, but the summer weather was lingering and the air was warm. She found Geralt out on the terrace, a map of the area spread out in front of him, making plans.
Jaskier was next to him, in his shirtsleeves, leaning over the table and studying the map with a pensive expression as if he actually understood any of what Geralt was doing.
“Morning,” said Geralt as she joined them. Jaskier raised his eyes, and said nothing. Looking back down at the map he rubbed the back of his neck.
The shirt he was wearing was cut low at the back. The short hairs at the nape of his neck ran down – down – underneath his shirt. Did it go all the way down, she wondered.
“It’ll be roosting somewhere in the hills,” Geralt was saying. “If you can help with a tracking spell we can find its nest – get in there while it’s asleep –” He went on talking, but she was only half listening. Monster hunts bored her. They all ran together after a while.
She watched the bard’s fingers move on the back of his neck, stroking his hair, and thought idly of putting her own fingers there.
“Yennefer?” said Geralt.
“Hm?” She glanced up – not quite quickly enough to keep Jaskier from catching her looking.
“What?” he said, touching his neck rather more self-consciously. “Am I sunburnt back there again?”
“Yes,” Yennefer lied. “You’re peeling. It’s disgusting.”
He felt the back of his neck. “I’m not,” he pronounced. “You liar.”
“Yennefer,” said Geralt. “The spell?”
“Yes, yes, I heard you,” she said. “I’ll have it for you this afternoon.”
3.
“I don’t understand why you care.”
“I don’t care,” Yennefer insisted. “It’s just that it’s a very simple question. Men take off their clothes around each other all the time, don’t they? You’re completely shameless, as a group. You’ve known him twenty years. You must have seen him without his shirt.”
She was sitting up in bed, her back pressed to the headboard, the sheets draped across her lap. Geralt lay beside her, flat on his back, his eyes closed. “Yeah. Probably.”
“And?”
“And I didn’t make a study of his back hair.”
“But you’ve seen it,” said Yennefer. “You don’t need to make a study of it to notice how much there is.”
“Yeah, well,” he said, “I didn’t notice.”
“You’re being obstructive. It’s a simple question. Yes or no, out with it.”
“Hm.”
Geralt lay silent and motionless. If she couldn’t feel his mind humming away she might have thought he’d gone to sleep.
Then he said, “are you attracted to him?”
“What?” said Yennefer. “Why would you ask me that?”
“S’simple question.”
“Emphatically no,” she said. “Not in the slightest. I can’t imagine why you’d think that.”
“Just seem very interested in his naked body.”
“It’s purely a matter of scientific curiosity.”
“I don’t care,” Geralt said. “We’ve talked about this. You can fuck anyone you want.”
Yennefer scoffed. “Even your bard?”
“He’s not my bard,” said Geralt. “And yeah. If you want to sate your scientific curiosity go right ahead.”
“My curiosity could be sated tonight if you’d just tell me.”
“Already told you I don’t know.” There was a slight smile playing about his lips.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m going to sleep.”
He lapsed back into silence.
“Geralt,” she said. “Geralt. Witcher. I can tell when you’re lying.” She nudged at him with her foot. “Geralt!”
“M’sleeping.”
“You aren’t,” she said. “You swine.”
4.
It was a simple plan, and obvious once she thought of it.
“Yennefer!” said the bard, flattening himself against the archway. “What brings you here?”
“Well, I was going to take a bath.” Yennefer wrapped her robe more tightly around herself. “How about you?”
“Just finished,” he said, trying to cover himself with his hands.
“I see.” She stepped to the side. “Don’t let me get in your way.”
“Actually, I think I shall head back to the cold bath for a bit.” He ducked his head back the way he’d come. “But, ah. Ladies first.”
“No – no,” she said, gesturing for him to go ahead. “You go on.”
“That would be contrary for the usual etiquette,” he said, motioning emphatically for her to go through the archway.
“You were here first,” she said. “You go.”
He repeated the motion. “I insist.”
“Well, so do I.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t mean to be rude,” he said. “But I’d prefer not to turn my back to you – especially in my nude and vulnerable state.”
“Why on earth not?”
“For fear you might lay a curse on me,” he explained. “Naturally.”
Yennefer leaned in closer. “I could lay a curse on you from any direction.”
“Yes, but at least from the front I’d be able to see it coming.” The bard adjusted his stance, still struggling to cover himself properly.
“Now you’ve offended me,” she said. “If you don’t go first I shall take it as a grievous insult.”
“Well, then, it appears we’re at an impasse.” He slouched back against the archway. “I can do this all day.”
“So can I,” said Yennefer. She stared at him. He stared back.
The air in the bathhouse was warm and steamy and smelled of sweat. The bard, conversely, smelled faintly of chamomile. In those long moments, waiting for him to break, she looked him up and down. He was an oddly put together man, she decided, his legs too long for his body and the thick hair on his chest and stomach clashing discordantly with his soft and boyish face. A strange combination of parts which, when put together, worked better than they had any right to.
She considered it. It was a large and cheap bathhouse and it was bound to be full of any number of dark corners a couple might hide themselves away in. He’d probably be up for it, assuming he didn’t think she was trying to hex him. And Geralt had given her his blessing.
The bard smacked his lips in thought, and then – think of the devil – raised his head and said over her shoulder, “Geralt! Hi.”
“Hm?” She turned to look.
There was nobody there. In the moment it took her to register that she’d been had, and humiliatingly so, there was a rapid pattering of footsteps on damp tiles and when she turned back to the archway he was gone.
“For fuck’s sake,” she said to herself.
5.
“How would you gentleman feel about making this a little more,” Yennefer paused for dramatic effect, “interesting?”
Jaskier touched his hand to his chest. “Yennefer,” he said. “Are you proposing we gamble?”
“In a sense.”
“Well, unfortunately for you, I’m not a gambling man,” he said.
“Yeah, you are,” said Geralt.
“No I’m not.”
“You gamble all the time.”
“Well,” said Jaskier, more emphatically. “Tonight I am not a gambling man, on the grounds that, tragically, I have no money.”
“That isn’t the only way to gamble,” said Yennefer. “There’s other ways.”
Jaskier rested his elbow on the table and stared at her. “Are you proposing,” he said, “that we play strip dice?”
“I am indeed.”
They exchanged glances. Jaskier shrugged. “Yeah, alright,” he said. “Sounds fun. I’m in.”
“Yeah, I’m in,” said Geralt.
“Wonderful,” said Yennefer.
This was a good plan, she’d decided. She’d had no doubt Jaskier would be game, being as be acted like a teenager most of the time and had very little shame about his naked body. Anyway, she’d found that he was amenable to most things when he was drunk. Really, he was far more agreeable and pleasant to be around when he had a few drinks in him.
The tricky part of her plan, of course, was ensuring that he lost enough rounds to get him into a state of undress without raising his suspicions – or, more likely, raising Geralt’s suspicions, as the witcher was far more attuned to both witchcraft and trickery. She would also have to ensure that she lost a round or two, enough to look genuine, but not so many that she’d have to show any skin. She’d made a point of wearing a lot of accessories.
It all very smoothly, at first. She shed her jewellery, piece by piece. Jaskier lost his ring, and then his boots and stockings, and then his doublet. One more loss, and then all she’d have to do was leave the room to fetch more wine and she could take a look at his back.
Jaskier rolled the dice. “Ah,” he said. “Snake-eyes.”
“Ha,” said Geralt, shirtless and bootless. “I win.”
“Off with it, then,” said Yennefer.
The bard sighed. “If I must,” he said, reaching for the hem of his shirt. Yennefer sat forward in anticipation, watching him strip it off, and –
He was wearing another shirt underneath. An entire second shirt, in a slightly creamier shade of white. She stared in disbelief as he dropped his shed shirt on the bench beside him. For a moment she wondered if he might, somehow, be onto her.
“You’re wearing two shirts?” she blurted out.
“Hm?” Jaskier blinked at her, puzzled and guileless. “Um, no? I was wearing one. Now I’m not wearing any.”
“Then what is that?” she said, pointing.
Jaskier looked down at himself. “Doublet,” he said, picking it up from the bench and dumping it on the table. “Shirt.” He dumped his white shirt beside his doublet, and plucked at the one he was still wearing. “Chemise.” He lifted its hem, revealing – by all the Gods – a further layer of clothing. “Vest.”
Yennefer stood up so forcefully that her chair clattered to the floor behind her and said, “you have another layer under there?”
Jaskier looked at his linen-clad belly. “Evidently,” he said, and dropped the hem of his chemise. “It’s cold.”
Yennefer stared at him, breathing hard, studying his mind for any hint of deceit, any sign that he had done this intentionally. To all appearances he hadn’t a clue why she cared. It was unbearable. She couldn’t bear it. She wouldn’t bear it.
“I’m going to bed,” she snapped, stepping away from the table. She didn’t bother to right her chair.
From the hallway, she heard Jaskier remark, “that was weird.”
+ 1.
Hmm,” said Yennefer, running her fingers down the line of hair that ran along Jaskier’s spine. “Hm. Mmm-hm.”
He was lying on his stomach, his face squashed up against the pillow, his eyes closed. “Hm?”
She toyed with the dark hairs at the small of his back. It really did go all the way down, an unbroken line from the nape of his neck to his buttocks. Deeply satisfying. “I’m just thinking.”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “Is your curiosity sated, then?”
Yennefer’s fingers stilled. “My what?”
Jaskier shifted, turning to face her. He opened one eyes. “Your unbearable curiosity about my back hair,” he said. “Is it sated?”
She resumed trailing her fingers along his spine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Geralt said you were asking about it.”
“I can’t imagine why he’d say a thing like that.”
“Oh, yes,” said Jaskier. “Do you like it?”
“It’s fine,” said Yennefer, fingering the soft hairs at his nape.
He stretched, and sighed. “I must say, it’s not the part of me that ladies usually want to fondle,” he said. “But I’m not complaining. That feels quite nice. Do go on.” Shutting his eyes he settled back down on the pillow.
Yennefer tugged hard on the hairs at the base of his spine.
“Hey – ow!” He pouted. “Mean.”
“I’ll show you mean,” she said. “I shall hex it off. See how you like that.”
“Hex away,” he said, his eyes closed, smirking. “You’ll be the one who’ll miss it.”
Abandoning her exploration of his back, Yennefer settled down on the pillow. She studied his face, his eyelashes, the curve of his lips. “I despise you,” she said fondly.
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