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szkunas · 3 months

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KNOCK KNOCK, GUESS WHO! ౨ৎㅤsuguru geto.

synopsis / premise ♱ㅤwhen things in your life go well for a long time, there will undeniably be a problem knocking on your door. this time, the issue is your ex-boyfriend, wanted by the jujutsu society — who is very angry with you, even after he stole your money. || PART ONE (previous)

featuring ♱ㅤsuguru geto (jjk0 / 2017 version) x FEM reader.

warnings ♱ㅤ NSFW ♡︎ ㅤporn with very little plot ! toxic behavior ! suguru (GENOCIDAL man) ! unprotected sex (wrap it up) + unrealistic portraits of sex ! creampie ! reader and gojo are not in a relationship, but mutually interested in each other ! coercion / dub-con (both consent but just to be safe) ! genocide / death mentions (geto) ! stalking and breaking in ! bondage + choking ! spanking ! edging ! obsessed suguru agenda ! delusional suguru (you will see) ! seduction !

honorary mentions (inspirations, please read) ♱ㅤthis ask, by anon! all credits to them, i was not planning a part two, haha. whoever you are, i hope you enjoy it.

author’s note ♱ㅤso, today i was sitting down and thinking “im going to finish that yuta draft and probably start the sukuna draft for the event, since he’s winning the poll”. guess which of these two things I did? exactly. none. so, here is more suguru geto for you. i apologize in advance — i am not good at writing seduction. this is a bit rushed lol. repost because i can't see my post in tags

THERE IS NOTHING SCARIER than discovering that the person you love most is hiding a dark secret. it could be a lover, a second family, a dark past or a real, rotting present. that’s the feeling you get: everything is rotten. the walls around you and the space are shaped into a molten mist that rots as time passes, as you read the letter that someone slipped under your door.

the highly wanted criminal, suguru geto, was seen in your apartment two weeks ago, as shown in the photos below. we ask for your full and complete cooperation in the investigation, and soon some sorcerers will need to interrogate you. expect their visit at any time and answer the door when the time comes.ㅤ— the higher-ups from jujutsu society.

oh, hell. no. this cannot be happening.

as the procedure says, you burn the letter and get rid of the ashes.

although your situation is absolutely desperate, the secrecy of jujutsu comes before your disastrous love life. you turn to look for your cell phone, and the delay hurts your bones.

it seems like the object disappears when you need it most. when you find the damn phone, you don’t even hesitate. as you type the number that, at this point, your head knows by heart, your hands shake. this cannot be true. they are lying, they are trying to deceive me and defame suguru. but why? why would society need to do this?

of course, mentally, you suppress yourself. and a rational part of your brain — the part that isn’t driven by the love you feel for a man who’s been with you a long time — slowly realizes that this is the truth.

that’s why the disappearances in the middle of the night, the slight disregard for non-sorcerers touching you or him. the preference for privacy and not allowing you to post photos of the two of you together. he doesn’t have social media, he said. it feels very public. what a lie, he was actually a wanted criminal and cult leader.

no one answers the call, and you press the button once again. and again. and again. by the sixth time, you’re not sure if your hands are shaking with fear, disgust, or hate.

your money. your savings, built up after you left the witch life behind. a small guarantee of your future, a future you planned to have with suguru. a future stolen and lost, by the same man who once stole her heart. beautiful black hair and purple eyes really make a girl forget to pay attention to the red flags.

you leave voicemail after voicemail, until the box is full. then, messages. text after text while your fingertips digit furiously. it didn’t take long for you to realize that a response from him would be even worse, so your last messages were simple, direct. do not talk to me anymore. don’t ever appear in front of me again. and don’t you dare involve me in your affairs, you bastard.

pressing the send button through tears was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done in your life. and so, blocking the number seemed like the most sensible solution. it’s not like he would respond, even if you gave the number to the investigators — your exact intention.

so everything went as it should. 39 missed calls, 104 unanswered messages that changed her perspective of him forever, along with a letter that turned to ash, like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. your life took a new direction, an unpredictable metamorphosis that made you move to another address after the entire legal process on your part was concluded. you didn’t know, and you had no involvement, as hard as it was to believe. and then the sorcerers left you alone, and this was your second new start to normal life.

lonely and with a betrayed heart, in a new apartment far from your ex. unloading the last box does not bring the relief of releasing a chain, but the pain. the pain of losing something. as if the chain had tied itself to one of your ribs and ripped it away, taking a part of you.

but the tears dry. time passes. the pain diminishes, and the space that takes it in the heart is hatred. you become your priority again, and in time, you rise again only to fall again. one last effort, a call to a certain sorcerer you once knew, satoru gojo. this was his noah’s ark, his last hope before resorting to more desperate methods.

he answered. and since then, a lot has changed.

it’s been almost ten months since suguru stole your money and trampled on your love and dignity. almost ten months in which you had your heart broken, and you slowly put the pieces back together. now, your latest relationship — it’s not really a relationship.

six weeks ago, you and satoru had sex in your apartment for the first time. since then, he has been very helpful in all aspects of your life and visits you regularly. he takes you on dates and even carried you when his feet got sore from walking. it sounds crazy, feeling so comfortable with someone after just six weeks, but that’s what happens.

gojo is more than an arrogant boy who uses humor in every situation he sees, he has a heart, and a very generous one at that. despite his insistence, the credit card that was entrusted to you is rarely used (and you managed to convince him to change the password, too). his intention was to ask for help, not to become a parasite that will take as much from him as he can. not when he’s a much better person than you expected. a kind of clumsy white knight, in a cute and a bit of a loser way at the same time.

so, of course, the dates have become routine now. cinemas, walks in the park, roller skating, going for ice cream. these experiences stand out in your memories, as sweet as scenes from clichéd romance films. kisses in the rain, desperate hands pushing you into the apartment — maybe this time, you might be able to tease him a little, make him lose it and have you right there, in a dark corner? the idea is exciting, dangerous, and so stupid it makes your heart flutter.

he still owes you a new bed, though. you keep fucking on your couch because you two broke your single bed the last time you did it.

checking yourself in the mirror before a date is, naturally, what everyone does. the red dress that adorns her body is a little short, the kind of thing you see on a seductive movie character. but satoru asked for this tiny — as tiny as the dress, in his words — favor and promised anything you wanted later if you wore that and hung on his arm all night. even when he’s being a pervert, he’s just a guy who’s whipped for you.

the idea makes you take a step back. satoru can’t be in love with you. yeah, okay. he does cute things often. he takes you on dates almost every week. he’s always trying to make you laugh and has already learned most of your quirks, likes and dislikes. he remembers you throughout the day, at random intervals, and buys you things so casually that you had to beg him to stop and not max out his card bill — he just laughed and said it was all cheap anyway. heirs…

but he can’t be in love. it’s all new, recent. perfect, but maybe it’s just hidden by the love fog at the beginning of a relationship. it has already blinded you to bad signals once, and you internally wonder if you are using gojo.

of course, part of you has already thought about it. having sex with your ex’s best friend and solve your financial problems. two birds, one stone. but satoru is everything suguru is not — true. intense and real, without a mask of sweet truth that covered a rotten truth.

honestly, you don’t want to think about it too much right now. this is a conversation that should be between you and satoru, not between you and your intrusive, insecure thoughts. he deserves to know the truth and he deserves to know that you’re just as interested as he is — not on the money, but on him.

a text message makes you smile right after spraying a sweet perfume on your neck. the screen lights up with that contact that has now become your favorite.

toru <3; ㅤ already in the dress? photos or else ill die (seriously)

a small laugh escapes your throat, and you immediately prepare to take a photo. stepping back a little and posing in front of the mirror, you could swear you heard something near your apartment door while simultaneously hearing the soft click of your cell phone.

one pose to show the front, and one for the back, with a soft, evil smile. satoru isn’t your boyfriend, but with his attitude, he could very well be. he looks at you as if you were the only woman in the world, and as if he wanted you forever. it’s beautiful. it’s such a beautiful emotion to see in those blue eyes that you can’t wait for the next time you look.

after texting back, asking what time the movie starts, your eyebrows come together in a frown. omnisity takes over the environment quickly, and you swear your heart stops beating.

this energy— it cannot be.

“hi princess. missed me?”

the whisper in your ear is so sudden that you immediately turn your face to look. a hand grabs your chin and forces your head to turn back to the mirror, and you gasp, immediately struggling.

suguru geto, on the flesh, the greatest traitor to have walked the earth since judas. traitor to the jujutsu society, criminal and mass murderer, and of course — your ex-boyfriend. right behind you, and forcing you to stare at the mirror as his free hand snatches your phone away.

you hit him with your elbow, but he barely moves. humming, as if he is amused. as if you are some game. geto’s hips press forward against yours, and he efficiently traps you between the sink and him.

this cannot be happening.

what suguru doesn’t find amusing, though, is your text messages with satoru. long or short, little flirtations or obvious nudes, these messages are simply something that makes him turn his nose up in disgust. how dare him. how dare satoru take the one thing suguru truly loved that way?

“get off me.” you murmur, your eyes widening. like any sorcerer, you know the basics of defending yourself, but panic runs through your veins like poison. your muscles feel like solid stone, and you can’t stop your breath from hitching when his hand stops cupping your cheek to grab you by the throat.

he’s a criminal who definitely must have had his share of fights. you are a sorceress who has not been in the field for almost ten years. in a real fight? he could drown you in that sink and satoru would only find out hours later.

satoru. the thought makes you immediately ramble.

“don’t you dare lay a hand on me. satoru will—” he squeezes your neck softly, a silent message for you to keep your mouth shut. suguru sighs, annoyed he needs to explain it to you, word by word. he really, really likes you, but he’s not in the mood after all these games.

this small action — squeezing your neck gently — makes you remember old times. old times, not good days. because, although they were good, the memory was effectively corrupted when he left you, almost a year ago.

“satoru will not do a thing. he doesn’t know i’m here, and he won’t know.” a break. “yet.”

your eyebrows shoot up, before your face contorts into confusion. what does he mean, yet? if anyone knows he’s here, he will be executed. why would he risk it, just to see you? is he here to kill you?

the thought brings visible panics into your eyes — the wonderful, pretty eyes you have. the window to your soul. your soul and body, which suguru would like to possess again.

again, what a ridiculous term. he never stopped owning it, in the first place.

maybe if you buy time, satoru will come see what’s taking so long. he will help. you’ll be safe.

but the date is only thirty minutes, and for satoru to come in person, you would have to wait another forty. one hour and ten minutes with your genocidal ex-boyfriend. wow. this must be some kind of twisted lottery of fate, where winning makes you unlucky.

you force your voice to remain calm, composed. he does not deserve the satisfaction of your fear.

“why are you here?”

“oh, look at her.” he mocks, as if you’re not even just there, listening. “asking why i’m here as if she has no idea.”

“i don’t.” you grit your teeth. “this is why people ask, imbecile. they want answers— ugh.” he squeezes your neck again, making you grow quiet until he relaxes.

“darling.” suguru smiles softly, but some veins are popping up on his hand. he is absolutely pissed, using that sweet voice to smooth you. “you know why i’m here. don’t play dumb. you— let satoru touch you.”

his tone is still soft, affectionate as the boyfriend you once called yours. but beneath the sweetness, there is an anger, a possession. like an animal whose territory has been pierced.

“did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he leans in, his hot breath making shivers run down your spine violently. “you underestimate me, my love. i’m a bit offended. coming from you, i expected so much more.”

his hand snakes all over your body, and close as he is, you’re sure he can hear your erratic heartbeat. thump-thump. thump-thump. thump-thump.

like the engine of a machine, accelerated to its limits. if your organs are your gears, you believe you are malfunctioning right now. a poorly functioning machine due to information overload.

it’s a lot to handle. his hands are warm as they gently pull your dress up, groaning. “i barely had to move it away. what, you enjoy dressing like a slut for satoru?”

it seems like your voice only works normally, as it should, when you feel your panties being pulled down, gasping. “suguru, no! you can’t!”

“oh, i can’t? why? c’mon, darling, just the tip.” he throws your phone away — the sound the device makes when it breaks against the wall is blood-curdling. he wraps both his arms around your waist, pressing his hips to yours. “pretty please?”

you grit your teeth. why the hell is this attractive? perhaps it’s because you barely heard geto beg before. but, no. you can’t. satoru, your satoru, he’s waiting for you — instead, you have your freak ex humping slowly against you. no way, is he wearing buddhist attire? like a monk or something. but these thoughts don’t matter. his words take you out of your head.

“i saw everything that day, you know. and a little before, and after that. getting all cozy with satoru, because i’m not here? you offend me, sweetheart. i’m a bit hurt.”

“oh, i’m not hearing this.” you curl your hands into fists, slamming them on his arms. “not after you lied about who you are, stole my damn money, and left! fuck you, geto! fuck. you.”

he smirks against your ear, grabbing your wrists and pulling your arms behind your back. you groaned, and he quickly decided to hit two birds with one stone.

tugging at the clothing strip that holds his robes together, he rips it off and uses it to tie your hands together as you squirm. he gives it a little tug, confirming it’s not too tight, and throws his clothings to the other side of the room.

“i know i haven’t been here.” he pauses, and you can watch him through the mirror as he forces you a bit down. “and i’m sorry. i wanted to tell you, i did. but i couldn’t. i know what you would think, and— i couldn’t lose you.”

it’s like a sincere admission, but you’re not foolish enough to feel sorry. not for him, definitely. throwing salt at the wound is your strategy right now.

“you lost me anyway. y’know, satoru really has a way with backshots that—” your words are cut off by a gasp, when he rips your panties off you and holds you down by the back of your neck. your back does a pretty arch for him like that, but suguru is not nearly amused enough.

“don’t be a brat. i made mistakes, but you, too. whoring yourself for my best friend? are you kidding me, love?”

“i’m not your love, don’t call me that.” he grabs you by the hair, tugging your head back up to look at his eyes through his reflection.

a pause, and suguru decided against what he was going to originally say, softening his grip on you.

“i missed you. i did. can’t i show it to you? just a little, baby, please?” he presses his hips into yours a bit more gently, and you can feel it.

his rock-hard erection, rubbing softly against your warm pussy. it makes you shiver and hum against your will. a part of you misses it. nothing wrong with satoru — he’s a great learner for an inexperienced guy — but geto knows just how to blow your back and be soft at the same time. an art satoru hasn’t mastered yet.

the idea of doing this to that white haired man who is so good to you — it brings tears to your face. how dare you want to say yes? but also, how could you say no when suguru’s head is rubbing deliciously against your entrance?

you close your eyes in defeat, not able to look at yourself.

“be quick. and don’t ever ask me anything again. you get this— and you disappear from my sight. forever.”

a deal with the devil. sacrifice something and gain something. your body for peace.

he chuckles, throwing his head back with a smirk. “oh, you and i both know that’s not happening, sweetheart. i’ll be here, forever.” he slips his hands down your waist, grabbing it gently and pushing his cock in.

the feeling is— exquisite. geto could try all he wanted, search in all the world, but he never could find someone like you. your body is almost poisonous — intoxicating is the right word. he just bottomed out and he’s already mixing his thoughts. that’s the effect you have on him.

suguru’s hips start moving at a restless pace, not giving you time to breathe or a warning. he can’t waste time with words, not now. not after being pulled away from you, his beloved, for ten torturous months. just when he was planning to come back and convince you to join his cult — or just grab you and lock you up, whatever —, he found you riding his best friend. sinking down satoru’s cock and making him cream all inside you.

the idea makes him huff, thrusting harder.

and you, under him? with your wrists tied up? well, you’re a mess. you’ll have to try bondage with satoru later, it’ll surely make his cock explode. your eyes widen, and you babble something — what’s wrong with your head? why are you thinking about satoru, then, suguru, then satoru again?

oh, lord above, maybe both at the same time? it’s a fantasy that makes you blush more than what you’re doing right now.

suguru guides your head up again, holding your neck gently.

“what are you thinking about, love? you keep—” he grunts. “clenching down on me.”

“nothing,” you stammer out. okay, there is something seriously wrong with you for enjoying this so much. a moan escapes you before you can stop it. “nngh— satoru!”

his eyes widen at the same time as yours. if your hands weren’t tied up, you would have brought one up to your mouth. the squeezing on your neck is firm, enough to not cut air circulation, but present. surely. the whisper of your name echoes through the bathroom.

“what did you just say?”

he looms over you, blushed cheeks and vulnerable expressions changing all the time, staring at your dumb little face in the mirror. suguru has a soft frown on his face, his eyes wide in horror, and his lips are slightly parted. but there’s a dark shadow oozing off him, a rage that cannot be contained.

he’s hurt. he’s mad.

you try to justify it quickly, to do damage control. “suguru! i said— i said suguru!”

but it’s a little too late for that, and lies only make it worse. he pins you down harder, his hips moving back at a ruthless pace this time. harder, faster — no mercy or trace of the sweet man who used to make love with you as if you were made of glass.

now, he fucks you as if he hates you, he hates your guts.

your moans and whines are muffled by the obscene sounds escaping where your hips meet. plap plap plap, mixed with a softly, slightly wet whisper of some sort. suguru lets go of your waist and brings his hand up.

you gasp when it hits the back of your thigh in a loud smack!

he forces you to look up, breathless as he murmurs.

“start counting.” he groans, harshly. and he smacks you again, right on the ass. he’s hitting so hard that you believe his intention is leaving a red mark — a present for satoru to look at later. and you’re right. his friend knows no boundaries and keeps taking what is his. what choice does he has, unless to mark you up?

smack.

you shiver, trying to squirm away and kick before he pins you down again.

“behave, brat. now start counting.”

smack.

“one—” you moan when his heat hits your sweet spot, huffing. smack. “two.”

“good girl.” smack. smack. smack. “how many is that, princess, mm? ohh, that’s the good pussy i missed so much. so— tight.”

“ngh! three! four! f—five?”

“is that a question, or are you answering me, my love?”

he chuckles meanly, thrusting into you again. you both grunt — near the edge already.

“suguru.” you throw your head back, whimpering. “i’m— i’m gonna—”

“ohh, you’re going to cum? that fast, honey? satoru hasn’t been good enough to you, i see.” he thrusts harder, laughing meanly at the way your eyes widen and tear up. “aww, he can’t treat you like you want. he fucks you like a good girl, i bet. but you want to be fucked like a slut.”

he leans down, peppering your neck with kisses and hearing your deep breaths. “it’s okay. i’m close, too. you have this effect on me, my love.” he grunts again, grabbing your hips. “throw that ass back on me, baby, yeah? yeah, juuuust like that.”

he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up as he presses his lips to yours in a upside down kiss. it would be romantic if it weren’t so possessive, visceral, crude. carnal. desperate.

when your lips part, he grunts and sighs softly, while you’re moaning loudly. nearly at the same time, your orgasms hit you both with everything.

suguru’s thrusts become messy, sloppy, and his skin feels a bit sticky against yours as he fucks himself using your pussy, pushing in ropes of cum to paint your insides.

you let your head fall forward when it’s your turn, squirming and whimpering softly. his forehead would have hit the sink if he weren’t holding you up. some more seconds, to dry out both of your highs. slowly, gently, he pulls out of you, watching the fat drops oozing out of your used hole.

suguru smirks as he undoes your restraints, kissing the back of your neck tenderly and adjusting your dress.

“don’t forget who has you first, mkay? i left a little gift for you and satoru here.” he sighs, sounding a bit sad. “i’ll have to go again, i’m sorry. but i’ll be back soon. don’t miss me too much. just leave your window unlocked, and i’ll be here again.” he grabs your face to turn it again, brushing his lips against yours. “unlocking them is a chore.”

geto leans back, and you shiver, confused. the sound of clothes being adjusted and thrown back into a body makes you turn your head moments after you heard it, still a bit too slow.

and he is gone. as you fix yourself up on your feet, you shiver as the realization hits you hard as a stone. no, no. satoru. no.

you stumble to the corner of the bathroom, picking up your phone. the screen is broken, but a call icon appears. you accept immediately, nearly sobbing.

“hey, senpai,” the nickname is soft coming from his lips. a small joke, playing with an honorific that he does not use with figures he should use. “you’re— a bit late. did something came up, or?”

“satoru.” you sob, and even through the screen, you can feel him tense up. his voice becomes more serious.

“what happened? are you okay? where are you? i’m on my way.” the scraping of a chair can be heard in the background of the call.

“i’m— my apartment. i have something to tell you. we need to talk, seriously, we—”

you shiver, and for some reason, you can picture your ex perfectly — walking proudly, with his nose up, the wind making his black hair flow behind him and cruel, purple eyes accompanied by a soft smirk.

“i made a mistake.”

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, I APOLOGIZE FOR ANY MISTAKES.ㅤthank you for reading! <3

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myaquariusheart · 6 months

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26/3

Hey, I've been AWOL. I'm currently on placement two and a lot has happened. The PGCE is going well even though the first placement was not easy it was my fault and has let me develop a lot. although I'm still finding it difficult to wake up on time and get to school early. I'm currently rotting Royas brain and making her chill and watch a YouTube video on mice that she needs to keep an eye on. She was enjoying it until she started biting my phone and I disturbed her. It's currently Ramadan and it is been good as well as stressful. Since we have been back from Umrah a lot has gone on. We've been mourning and there isn't a day where I don't think about Bubu's death and honestly, I think about it every day. I miss her and regret not keeping in touch as much as I should of and even cherishing the time we had as selfish enough I thought we would all be growing old together and we would all bring our children up being best friends. we can still do that but a piece is missing. It also makes me think about life and death more, and how easily life can be taken away. I'm always deep in thought and usually lie awake at night thinking Allah could take me any time and I should live each day but who's to know. Life, we only have one chance at it. I'm currently watching Gone Girl because I've actually never seen a Ben Aflek movie and I probably should as he's JLO's man. So far it's okay, his wife has gone missing and she's an author or writer or something. I'm going to finish this degree soon and I can't wait. there's so much paperwork to do with all of this and it's hard to keep up. I have an essay as well it's not done yet, but I'm just hoping it doesn't count toward our final grade. After the easter break, I have my formal observation with L and B and I am really nervous but I just need to crack down on the behavior of the class and the content that I'm teaching. just need to remember some simple things like don't talk until the class is quiet and all that kinda stuff so it's easy but I'm sure when someone is watching me it is more nerve-wracking. the last Geography lesson I did there was about 3 teachers in the classroom and I was so nervous but at the end of the lesson R said the lesson went really well so I was happy, she even said it in front of the head teacher but I doubt ill get a job there. I have been applying to some abroad like Abu Dhabi and Dubai but I need to take a professional picture soon so I can upload it onto my CV. unfortunately, I have been super ugly lately but I'm going to speak to the hairdresser tomorrow, my hair is still short but it's growing. really slowly though, I'm thinking of going back to orange or brown, I do not want to go back to black hair, it is too hard to change and dye over. We'll see, I'm kinda over this color now, I always feel like it doesn't compliment me and then a few months down the line, I'm going to look back on my pictures and then regret it. Look at me talking about stupid irrelevant shit that doesn't matter if I'm a good person or not, just superficial but i guess if I don't look good I don't feel good, but even when I do look good I still don't feel good. I don't know why I'm feeling so low and insecure lately. I and T have been hitting the gym but with everything going on its been really difficult as iftar is at 6 and that's when T gets to the gym. After Eid I'm sure everything will be back to normal.

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akunya · 2 years

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Ok,, hear me out, 35 w oliver evans?!?!,#?! LIKE!?!?!!

They could be in his classroom and his students can walk in any minute,;, ,,

- ⚡anon!!! ( u can ignore this if u wanna!! Idm :o))!! Also, congrats on 200 followers!!!! U deserve it, cause ur writings?!?!?! R SO. :heart_eyes:, and ur bf is a fucking ass booo eww, u dont deserve him!!!! )

"we might get caught. does that turn you on?"

pairings: oliver evans / m!reader summary: teacher's pet loses his virginity: not clickbait? tw: size difference, TEACHER/STUDENT, age gap(?), voyeurism, exhibitionism, dubcon, manipulative, praise, etc.

notes: i actually gasped when i saw this rq. its been rotting my BRAIN for days. this might be terribly ooc, but this was fun. thank you so much for requesting again ⚡anon! age gap is hinted that oliver is older than you.

she/her + she/they + fem aligned/women DNI.

you sat on the professors desk, heart thumping as he pried your legs open. his gentle eyes raked over your body, your uniform shirt slightly unbuttoned, along with the growing bulge in your pants. the room was empty except for the two of you. it was after class hours, and oliver had asked you to stay behind to speak with him quickly. how could you say no, when he asked so politely?

"you're hard already, and i didn't even touch you yet. don't tell me you've been thinking about this before.." he chuckled at your shocked expression, as you backed away he only moved in further. you never took your teacher to be the teasing type. when you thought about him, on those nights that you fisted your cock and your mind wandered off on its own, you couldn't help but imagine him as a caring, gentle top. in your imagination, he'd hold you so softly, as if you'd crack under anymore pressure. he'd take you to his place, make you dinner and spoil you like a good pet. of course, that teacher of yours only lived in your indulgent virgin fantasies. you couldn't read the man in front of you. oliver still looked as neat and orderly as ever, as if he wasn't the one to lead you to sit on his desk and whisper dirty things in your ear for the past half hour. it was obvious he was hard too, but he didnt even bother to touch himself, his long fingers pinching and grabbing at your body instead. he was gentle, but teasing you relentlessly, loving the way you practically squealed when he whispered and licked the shell of your ear. you could see how he was holding back, letting go little by little. maybe he had some respect for the setting he put you in after all.

"we might get caught. does that turn you on?" he towered over you, making you feel exceptionally small. why was he so big? you shook your head, raising your voice a bit not wanting to give in. "i-it doesn't, i-" oliver pressed his finger against your lips, shushing you. the silence let you pick up on the familiar ambience in the halls, eyes widening. you felt your stomach twist in fear as you heard the footsteps of students outside. oliver didn't back away however, taking the opportunity to snake his other hand around your waist and pull you in closer. you couldnt protest, not wanting to say anything too loudly and draw attention to yourself from onlookers. oliver noted this, smirking as he held you closely. "shh, quiet little one. people might hear you." he laughed again, amused by how flustered and frightened you were.

the older man continued to slowly strip you, unbuttoning your shirt and pushing it aside to play with your chest. his skilled fingers playing and pinching with your nipples, squeezing and watching you intently as you squirmed and moaned. you couldn't help the noises that spilled out, hushed praises of "good boy" and "you're doing so well" in his deep voice only leading you further. whenever he praised you, even during class, you couldn't help the rush of excitement and pleasure that washed over you. you wanted more. more of his praises, more of his sweet voice in your ear, more of his touch. you had forgotten to try and resist, welcoming him when he had slipped his tongue into your mouth. the professor welcomed this, showering you with more praises and obscenities until you could barely think.

"such a good boy i have, hm? maybe even naughty students like you deserve a reward too." oliver hummed, loving how you had quickly given into his special treatment. you reminded him of an obedient little puppy when you excitedly nodded your head yes, whining and begging for something more. he always knew you had a thing for him too, but he never thought you'd admit it like this so quickly. seeing some students peer in, he noted that he should probably pick up the pace, but you barely seemed to register it at all anymore. you were so engrossed in having your teacher's attention on you, you didn't notice how some students peered through the window, shock on their faces at the scene playing in their very own classroom. maybe you were much more of a pervert than you initially thought.

"i can tell you've wanted this, haven't you? poor thing." oliver leaned in to kiss your cheeks, stealing another long kiss from your lips. he would have fun with you, he thought to himself. from the way you were trembling and your pants weren't even off, he couldn't wait any longer, guiding you to lay down on your back and keep your legs spread. unbuckling his belt, he wanted to engrave your flushed, nearly naked expression in his mind for the rest of his life.

after today, you'd be his little pet in and out of the classroom, whenever he wanted you to be - but he thinks you wouldn't mind, anyways.

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looooooooomis · 3 years

Text

FINAL GIRL | FIVE

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t five | t h e c a b i n (part I)

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 5.6k (I’M SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY) warnings: s m u t (18 +!!!!!)

A/N: after 8 months of MIA, SHE’S BACK BABY!!! this is part 1 of 2 of our fav couple being at the cabin x next chapter will have soft moments I promise lmao

You should have been paying more attention.

If you’d been paying more attention, you wouldn’t have had five sets of eyes currently watching your every move, waiting for an answer you didn’t have. Why had you thought it was a good idea to stay up as late as you had packing your overnight bag for the cabin? If you had gone to bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn’t have been as braindead as you currently were and, if you hadn’t been braindead, you wouldn’t have wound up in whatever ring of hell you were currently stuck in as your friends stared at you as though you’d grown a second head.

You pleaded with your tongue to say anything, pleaded for your brain to register a decent enough lie to make this uncomfortable silence end but nothing came out of your mouth. Only a pathetic hum and a gusto of forced laughter.

You wanted to die.

It should have been an easy enough answer to what was an even easier question. One that you’d practiced answering for the last two days and yet, as the moment for the lie came and went, you were left scrambling like a fucking moron.

You didn’t dare look at Billy as Sid curled into his side knowing if you managed to catch his coffee-coloured stare, you’d only be met with something between terror and amusement as you royally shit the bed. So, instead, you did the next best thing. You replayed the question over and over again in your head until you were driven mad.

‘Are you up for a movie this weekend?’

It was a simple enough question, one you’d managed to decline easily enough but, as Tatum frowned and asked the one question you were expecting to hear, your mind went blank.

‘Why? What are you doing?’

The answer you were supposed to say: I have to babysit my cousin in Santa Rosa all weekend. The answer they got? Silence. Pure, awkward as fuck, silence.

“Earth to Y/N,” Tatum laughed, brows furrowing. “Are you alive?”

“Sorry,” you huffed out a quiet laugh and shook your head, “I barely slept last night, I’m braindead.”

While it wasn’t a lie, you were still on edge. You’d think after months of sneaking around with the asshole sitting in front of you that you would have chilled out a little more but not today. Maybe it was the nerves of a full weekend away with Billy Loomis as his girlfriend hosted a fucking movie night sans her boyfriend and best friend – but something was making you stumble over what should have been second nature to you.

“You feeling okay?” Sid, the angel she was, asked with a small frown. Your stomach twisted in the familiar way it always did when your sweet friend showed concern. Concern which you most definitely didn’t deserve. “You seem…off.”

It would have been so easy to confess your dark little twisted affair with Billy right then and there. To just open your mouth and let the truth of everything you’d been doing behind her back play out. But you knew it would break her heart and, more than that, you were a fucking coward.

“I’m fine, Sid,” you smacked on a small smile and leaned into your locker. You had one more class until you were home free. Free of your friends’ inquiring eyes, free of Biology, free of Woodsboro. If you managed to get through this incredibly uncomfortable moment. “And I would if I could, trust me. I have to babysit my little cousin in Santa Rosa.” You feigned disappointment with a small frown. You could see Stu’s lips tug up in mild amusement out of the corner of your eye. “She’s nine, so if I don’t come back on Monday, know that she annoyed me to death.”

Randy scoffed and casually threw his arm around your neck. “Every day I’m thankful I don’t have any snot-nosed kids in my family. Losing my weekend to babysit? I’d rather rot.”

Despite your guilt, you managed a small smile as you looked across at him. “I think the kid would rather you rot, too. You’d be a terrible babysitter.”

“She’s right,” Tatum smirked, “you’d show the kid one of your weirdo movies where a girl with big tits is running helplessly away from her killer. It’d scar the kid for life.”

“Or,” Randy mused, “prepare them for the real world. Put some hair on their chest and all that shit.”

“Furthering my point, Meeks, you’d be a shit babysitter.” You laughed. “But, yeah, I’ll be suffering at the hands of a nine-year-old, so you guys have fun without me.”

“How about you, lover boy?” Tatum asked, looking across at Billy. “Will you be joining us this weekend?”

You should have averted your eyes. Should have done anything besides wait, with bated breath, to see what Billy would say. Slowly, those brown eyes tapered over towards you just briefly before looking at Tatum. With a casual shrug of his shoulders, Billy shook his head and leaned into Sid. “Can’t,” he merely said, “I’m going up north with my dad. He wants to get some of his affairs in order or something, I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “All I know is I was promised free beer if I helped him. So, I’m helping him.”

If Sid caught onto his lie, her face didn’t betray her once. And, as she looked up at her boyfriend with doting eyes, you couldn’t help but feel that pang of shame slice into your gut once again. She believed him. She always believed him. Believed you. Regardless of how good it felt to have Billy, that shame of knowing just who it was unwittingly hurting in the process never dissipated.

“You sure you guys won’t need help?” Sid asked, further digging that knife of shame into your chest. “Besides this movie, I’ve got nothing else going on this weekend.”

“Real nice,” Randy teased. “She’d rather watch Billy’s dad punch away at a fucking calculator then sit down with her nearest and dearest.”

Billy ignored Randy entirely as he glanced down at the brunette. “I’m sure,” he affirmed, giving her a quick squeeze. “Enjoy the movie night. I’ll be there for the next one.”

He lied so effortlessly, so casually, that it should have unnerved you. But it didn’t. Because for as good of a liar Billy Loomis was, you were right here with him. This dangerous little game the two of you were playing was becoming second nature to you and for as much as it pained you to see Sidney get lied to, you couldn’t help yourself.

You loved Billy. Billy loved you. Right person, wrong time. Only rather than wait like you knew you should have, Billy’s glow was much too enthralling to miss. You were both moths to each other’s’ flames and no amount of guilt or shame was strong enough to outweigh the otherworldly affliction the two of you had for one another.

The bell signifying your final class rung out, snapping you out of your brief reverie as you blinked and focused on pushing Randy off of you. “Want to drive me to the bus station?” You asked him. “I don’t want to drive all the way to Santa Rosa, so I bought a bus ticket.”

“Tonight?” Randy considered it briefly before shrugging. “Sure, I guess. I’ve got a shift tonight at seven, though. When’s your bus leave?”

“Six thirty,” you lied, mainly doing this so that should anyone drive by your house this weekend and see your car still neatly parked in your driveway, they wouldn’t bat an eye. “I owe you.”

“Yeah, you do,” Randy agreed. “And, lucky for you, I accept a lot of different payment options.” He wriggled his brows, earning a playful smack from you and an annoyed glare from Billy. Thankfully, Randy didn’t catch onto the latter. “Pick you up at six?”

You nodded. “Perfect.”

With your eyes flickering to Billy’s once more, you managed to shoot everyone a quick smile before disappearing down the hall towards Biology. Just how you’d managed to dance your way out of what could have been an incredibly awkward moment, you didn’t know. But as you felt that weighty stare of Billy’s on your back as you walked away, there was an air of excitement that swallowed you whole.

No matter how much guilt you felt, no matter how sick it made you to see Sidney get hurt, even if she didn’t quite know about just yet, there was a much larger part of you that couldn’t wait to get Billy alone.

Because for the first time in the seven months since you’d started this torrid little affair, you were finally getting Billy all to yourself. No prying eyes, no secret kisses, no having to hide every part of your relationship with the man. None of that.

This weekend, it was you and it was Billy.

And you couldn’t fucking wait.

»»-------------¤-------------««

Randy, being the superstar he was, had dropped you off at the station a little after six-fifteen and by six-thirty-two, just around the time the actual bus was leaving for Santa Rosa, you were scrambling into Billy’s car with a wild grin on your face.

Just how the pair of you had managed to pull it off, especially given your brain lapse earlier in the day, was beyond you. But, as Billy tore off down the main street leading to the freeway, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of freedom engulf you the farther and farther you got from town.

It was exhilarating.

And, as you glanced at Billy, who couldn’t have looked more like a movie star with his dark locks blowing with the wind cascading in through his open window, you couldn’t help but reach across the divide to gently squeeze his jean-clad thigh.

“Thank you,” you found yourself muttering and as those brown eyes met yours, you couldn’t help but grin. “For your stupid key proposal. In hindsight, it was very sweet.”

The dimple in Billy’s cheek deepened as his own grin grew. “Glad you let me steal you away?”

You loosened your seatbelt momentarily and leaned across to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Very glad.” You made a move to pull away but stopped when he gently grabbed your chin with the hand not holding the wheel. “What—”

The kiss, while dangerously stupid, was short and sweet but the emotion behind it, the genuine happiness that exuded out of Billy in those few seconds was palpable. “I really do fucking love you, you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it,” you hummed and slinked back into your seat. When his large hand found your thigh, he gave it a firm squeeze that sent shockwaves throughout your whole body.

“Not going to say it back?” He teased, giving you a sidelong glance as he drew nearer to the freeway.

“I’d rather show it.” Rather than put your seatbelt back on, you shimmed in your seat and leaned into him as your fingers scraped along his thighs towards the button of his jeans. “Eyes on the road, Loomis.”

Easier said than done, Billy thought, torn between watching the road and watching you unzip his jeans. Raising his ass out of the seat just long enough to allow you to tug his pants down his thighs, the second Billy saw yours eyes light up as his now somewhat erect cock sprung free of his jeans, keeping his eyes on the road seemed impossible. But, the second he saw that pretty mouth of yours perk up in anticipation, it was game over. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

A low chuckle escaped your lips as you began to pump his length with your hand. “Focus on the road, Billy.”

“You say that like it’s easy.” Not being able to keep his hands off of you, he reached for your nipple and gave it a pinch through your shirt. “Take your shirt off, baby.”

“Shut up and drive.” You chided him, shimming in your seat so that you were on your knees leaning over the console. His cock was rock hard now and, as you ran your tongue alongside his length, from the base of it all the way up to coax your tongue along the precum that had gathered along his head, you felt him shiver beneath you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, tangling his fingers through your hair. You were too fucking good with that mouth of yours.

Still pumping the base of his cock with one hand, you swirled your tongue along the tip of his dick again before taking that perfectly girthy cock in your mouth. His grip tightened on your hair and your eyes watered as he pushed your head down to fully take the length of him inside of your mouth. He heard you gag on him but even as his grip eased up, you continued your pursuit of deepthroating him.

His breathing was shallow as he felt your hot mouth all over him. Between the sounds of your wet mouth taking him in and the occasional gag as you choked on his length, Billy was in heaven.

But having you this close as you fucked him with your mouth whilst still fully clothed was killing him. He needed to feel you. He wanted to feel your juices on his fingers and running down those perfect fucking thighs as he fingerfucked you. He wanted to hear you moan, feel you moan on his cock as he made you feel as good as you were making him feel.

He wanted all of you, needed all of you.

Trying his damnedest not to shut his eyes as your mouth brought him closer to the edge, he reached beneath you to work on your own zipper but when that proved to be impossible, a frustrated growl tore out of his lips. “Undo your pants.” He hissed through bared teeth.

You hummed against his dick which nearly sent him into the other land of traffic. “No,” you purred, “I want to make you feel good.”

With one hand on the wheel and the other now gliding up and down your back as you fucked him with your mouth, Billy couldn’t help but buck into your mouth as you began to massage his balls. He was going to bust and soon if he wasn’t careful.

You were too fucking good and he was too fucking in love with you not to get lost in the way you made him feel.

“Touch yourself, at least,” he breathed out, desperate to see that pretty cunt. “Please, baby.”

Not granting him the satisfaction, you simply dug your nails into his thighs and moaned onto his cock and the sensation of it alone was almost enough to make him come down your throat. It seemed to slither around his cock, making him twitch and buck into your mouth.

But it was the second you moaned out his name as you swirled your wet mouth along the head of his dick one final time, swallowing back his precum with a contented hum, that Billy blew his loud inside of your mouth.

For a good five seconds, he didn’t care if he crashed the goddamn car as he watched you swallow his seed. He was bucking into your mouth, his breathing was ragged, as you guzzled him back and, as you finally released his cock with a pop, Billy almost lost it.

With a devilish grin, you simply wiped a finger along the edge of your lips and leaned back into your seat with a satisfied glimmer in your eyes. You knew you’d be in for it once he got his hands on you at the cabin, but for now, as you watched him lamely try and pull his jeans up his body to cover his slowly softening cock, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s the matter, Billy?” You teased, fastening your seatbelt back up. “You look a little rattled.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he simpered, not bothering with the zipper or button of his jeans. Instead, he reached across the divide and grabbed for your hand as he ghosted his lips across your knuckles. “Just wait until we get to the cabin.”

With your suspicions confirmed, you couldn’t help but beam across at him as you drove further and further away from Woodsboro. That was definitely a threat and good god were you excited for its execution.

»»-------------¤-------------««

By the time you’d pulled into the Loomis family cabin, it was pitch black outside.

The moon was too high in the sky and only a sliver of its light poked through the tall pine trees that surrounded the small house but, even with the low light surrounding you, the shadows that danced along the lake was enough to bring out a small smile as you quietly made your way out of the car. You didn’t need full sun to see the beauty surrounding you and the smell of the fresh air mixed with the spice of pine made any ounce of nerves filter out of you.

You were happy.

Unreservedly so.

Glancing across the roof towards Billy, he seemed almost distracted as he looked around at the familiar surroundings. You couldn’t quite tell if he was feeling as happy as you were in those brief moments, but you couldn’t quite blame him for that. The cabin held a lot of memories within it, many of which you knew included his mother. Where you felt freed and excited, you could tell the weight of his current whereabouts was heavy on his shoulders.

“Hey,” you muttered, slicing into the quietude around you. Walking around the front of the car, those brown eyes found yours as you circled your arms around his middle. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he assured, but his voice was low and distant. All the same, however, his strong arms enveloped you as he kissed your hairline. “Lost in a memory, I guess.”

You nodded into the crook of his neck but said nothing. He needed time to decompress, to familiarize himself with a house he hadn’t been in since his mother left. So, you’d give him that time.

For what must have been minutes, the two of you simply stood at the helm of porch holding onto one another. It wasn’t until Billy placed another quick kiss to your forehead that you felt his arms slowly fall only to grasp your hand in his own. “Come on,” he hummed. His grip on your hand was firm as he walked up the steps leading to the wrap around porch and as he stuck the key inside of the lock and opened the front door, the smell of cedar surrounded you.

The cabin was gorgeous. Wooden slats covered every square inch of the small house and a small fireplace sat at the front of the house with a worn-in couch and chair facing it. It was obvious nobody had come to visit for quite some time judging by the dust lining most of the countertops and shelving units, but you didn’t care.

To you, it was perfect.

Your own little oasis with the boy you loved without any sort of outside interruption.

You released his hand to take a brief look around the small living space but you could feel his eyes on you with every step you took. You knew he was looking to get even with you after your little stunt in the car, but you also knew that he hadn’t quite been expecting the swell of emotions to hit him upon driving up to the cabin. So, you continued to wander around the cabin to both grant him the space he may or may not have needed and, simply, to snoop around.

There were family pictures lining the tables and one in particular made you smile as you caught sight of a young Billy swinging from a tire swing. With a quiet laugh, you picked the frame up and surveyed it with a fond smile on your lips. “Cute,” you remarked, looking across to catch his stare. “A little model, eh?”

Billy watched you carefully place the frame down on the table before continuing on with your self-guided tour. No matter how hard he tried, regardless of the bittersweet memories swirling around inside of his brain, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Not that he ever really could, but there was an ease rolling off of you tonight, coming off of you in waves, that drew him in.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week, you know that?” He remarked, leaning against the back of the couch as he watched you pick up another picture frame. “Just me and you. Out here alone in the woods for an entire weekend.”

“Sounds like a scary movie when you put it that way,” you goaded with a wink. “Or a really niche porno.”

“Why not a bit of both?” His molasses coloured eyes glimmered mischievously as you walked up to him and stepped between his legs. The second you were close, he pulled you flush against his chest and kissed the tip of your nose as he pushed your hair back and away from your face. “Both could be fun.”

You grinned. “I’m down for anything,” you shrugged. “So long as you promise to take me on an actual date tomorrow. We’re not just fucking like bunnies inside of the cabin all weekend.”

“Heaven forbid,” he leaned in and gave you a slow, torturous kiss.

“I’m serious, Billy,” you moaned.

Pulling away from your mouth, Billy nudged his nose against yours and nodded. “The entire population in Bumfuck, California will know you’re my girl by the end of the weekend,” he avowed, skimming his hands down to your ass to give it a firm squeeze. “I promise.”

“Oh, yeah?” You hummed, kissing him again.

His calloused hands slipped beneath your shirt and scraped up your side. “Yeah.” Digging his hips into yours, he gave you one last kiss before nodding towards the bedroom. “Take your clothes off.”

You giggled as he slapped your ass to steer you down the narrow hallway. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll rip them off of you,” he simply said, “so either they remain in one piece or I ruin your outfit.”

You glanced down at your jeans and tank before frowning. You looked cute tonight and you’d be damned if the bastard ripped them. So, being the good girl you were, you held his stare and slowly slinked out of your clothes. His eyes seemed so much darker as he watched you strip and the small smirk he wore slowly fell into a hungry thin line as you then perched yourself on the edge of the bed, completely nude.

“You just going to stand there looking pretty or are you going to do something about this?” You slipped your fingers between your thighs and ran your fingers along your swollen clit. A low moan slipped out of your lips at the sensation. “I’m already so wet for you, Billy.”

Slowly, Billy stepped towards you and undid his belt. Leaning down, he kissed you, hard, and steered you backwards on the bed beneath you until your head reached the soft pillows. You could feel his cock straining against his jeans but rather than grant himself any sort of reprieve, you watched him gently grasp your hands and raise them above your head only to wrap his belt around your wrists.

In the blink of an eye, you were tied to the bedposts.

“Is this payback for the car blowie?” You laughed, looking up at your restrained wrists. “If it is, I can’t say I’m mad about it.”

“You wanted something between a horror movie and a niche porno, remember?” He hummed against your skin, placing sloppy kisses along the vein that ran along your neck as he pinched your nipple. “God, you’re fucking perfect. You know that?”

He bit down on your collarbone, kissing his way down your chest until his warm mouth wrapped around your nipple. You could feel his teeth slither along your breast as his tongue lapped expertly on the sensitive bud. You hissed, arching into his mouth as your wrists, on instinct, fought for freedom. “Hardly.”

His eyes met yours as he slowly released your nipple. You were in nothing, of course, but he was still fully clothed, and you hated him for it. You hungrily eyed the bulge in his jeans as he propped himself up on his arm, letting his other hand glide up your chest and neck until it cupped your cheek. His nose brushed against yours, nudging it up to allow his lips to hover just over yours. Close enough that you could almost taste them, but much too far away to satisfy the hunger you had for the man.

“I love you,” he whispered, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek as his warm, brown eyes swallowed you up. “You know that, right?”

“Yes,” you swallowed hard and tilted your head up just enough to finally catch his lips. But, just as quickly as it happened, the man pulled away and let his hand begin to roam down your body. His mouth was at your ear now, nibbling at your earlobe as his hot breath slithered against your neck. You shivered. “I love you, too.”

His voice was gruff in your ear. “I’d kill for you,” his hand continued its journey down your throat, brushing past your nipple, down the length of your stomach until reaching the small smattering of hair along your mound. He was careful to keep his hands from dipping any lower, tormenting you as best to his ability, which just about killed you, if you were being honest. “You know that?”

Bucking your hips up, you nearly growled at the lack of attention you were receiving. You were soaked and touch-starved for him. His fingers, his mouth, the erection currently poking into your thigh, anything. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” you managed a quiet laugh. “But I appreciate it.”

His teeth bit down on your neck again. “But, I would. I’d do anything for you, sweetheart.”

His hand slipped further down to your sopping cunt and as he slowly slipped his fingers through your wet folds, the moan he got in return nearly killed him. “Billy,” you whispered desperately. It felt as though you were going to die if you didn’t feel him inside of you. “Please.”

His lips hovered over yours and on instinct, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and bucked your hips against his hand. He snarled as you bit down on his lip but as the metallic taste of blood met his tongue, it was as though Billy was transcending. His pace on your clit quickened but it was still too slow for you and he knew it. He was torturing you, killing you, and he was enjoying every second of it. Struggling against the belt, your struggle was all for naught as it didn’t so much as move an inch.

“You’d love me, no matter what, right?” He asked, slipping one of his fingers inside of you as he kissed his way down to your chest. Lapping at your nipple, Billy was gentle at first before biting down hard enough to draw blood. Tit for Tat.

“Yes,” you moaned. Your entire body was on fire as his fingers brought you closer to the edge. “But I’d love you even more if you fucked me. You’re killing me, Loomis.”

Licking up the small trail of blood off of your tits, Billy hummed against your nipple and added another finger inside of your pussy. He’d fuck you soon but right now, he needed to feel your entire body light up the way it always had when he drove you into that fit of madness. You were a woman unhinged in the bedroom, he knew as much, and he knew exactly how to get that animal inside of you out.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he admired, reaching his hand up to coat your tit in your own slick. When it was sufficiently wet, he licked your juices off of your breast and growled. God, you tasted so fucking good. “You’re my girl, Y/N, you’re always going to be my girl, right?”

You looked up at him as those words fell from his lips. His brown hair hung down his forehead, his neck red from the strain of having to watch you writhe beneath him without doing a damned thing about it. But what struck you was the look of vulnerability in those brown eyes. That longing, far-away look as his eyes searched yours.

He wanted nothing more than to hear you say that you wanted him. Needed him. Just as much as he needed you.

“Always,” the answer tumbled out of your lips before you so much as thought twice. “I’m your girl, Billy.”

His mouth caught yours in a bruising kiss. Finally, his pace quickened inside of you as met your throbbing core with his dept fingers. With his thumb circling your clit, he dipped two fingers inside of you and grinned against your mouth as you let out a low, desperate moan.

It happened so fast after that. One moment, you were the one tied up on the bed and the next, he’d released you, stripped himself naked, and managed to flip you over so that you were the one on top of him, straddling his waist. Pulling away from you mouth, Billy’s eyes darkened as he saw that familiar glimmer in your eyes. That animalistic side of you was out in full force now.

“Get up here.” He demanded.

You smirked and leaned across him so that your lips hovered over his. “Why would I want to do that?”

He leaned up, the veins in his neck swelled against his neck as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. “Get. Up. Here.”

Releasing your lip, Billy watched you smirk and crawl up the remainder of his body until your pussy was less than an inch away from his mouth. Grabbing onto the metal of the headboard you’d just been tied up to, you gasped as Billy’s tongue slid into your folds. Finding your clit instantly, you moaned and allowed your eyes to fall shut as you reached down to play with your hardened nipples.

Fuck, what Billy could do with his mouth should have been illegal.

He sucked and lapped at your clit as you rocked back and forth against his mouth. His fingers dug into your hips, so much so that you knew there would be bruises in the morning but, blinded by the pleasure between your thighs, you couldn’t care less.

The moans that were coming out of you were raw and guttural and, as you played with your own tits, envisioning his hands being the ones to squeeze and nip on the swollen buds of your nipples, you saw stars.

“Fuck,” you moaned out, “Billy, baby, fuck.”

He pulled your hips further down so that you were sitting on his face. Not just hovering but sitting on that perfect mouth of his as he held you in place. You knew it must have been hard for him to breathe but he was adamant and as his tongue continued its assault on your throbbing cunt, you came devastatingly hard and incredibly loud.

Stars danced behind your eyes as you continued to ride out your orgasm. When you couldn’t take another second of Billy’s skilled tongue, you climbed off of him only to feel his large hands take hold of your hips again.

Swinging you around so that you were on your back and he was the one hovering over you, Billy wasted no time in slipping his rock-hard erection into your soaking pussy.

He was thrusting hard and the sounds of your juices squelching with every thrust of his cock would have been off-putting if it hadn’t been for the raw, primal need coursing off of the pair of you in waves. He was kissing your lips and biting them and suckling your neck as he continued to rail into you with all of passion in the world. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen him this riled up and you had to admit it was inherently sexy seeing him so affected by you.

Not surprising in the least, it didn’t take him long to come. You’d riled him up to the point of no return in the car and, as you felt him come inside of you, you all but laughed when he dramatically crashed on the bed beside you.

Sweat glistened over every inch of body and the sheen of your juices was still on his lips as he kissed you. This kiss was slow, methodical. Sweet. And you felt yourself fall even harder for the man as he broke the kiss and gently brushed your hair away from your now damp forehead.

Wrapping one arm around your chest, Billy held you against him as he propped himself against the headboard. You were both naked and sweating and while a shower was something you both definitely needed, neither of you found yourselves all too willing to move out of the other’s embrace.

“Is it hard being back here?” You asked, listening to his heart beating in his chest.

“For a second, maybe,” he admitted, soothing your hair down. “Not now.”

“What’s changed?” You asked with a small smile. “The sex was that good, huh?”

A quiet chuckle shook his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “I think horror meets niche porn is my new favourite genre.”

Kissing his naked chest, you grinned into his body. “Same.”

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strxwberrylemonxde · 3 years

Text

HQ Boys When You're On Your Period

Featuring: Ushijima, Tsukishima, Oikawa, Kenma

Genre: Comfort w/ a splash of crack

Warning: None

Word Count: 1.20k

A/N - Dear god this one took a bit to post. This one was a little self-indulgent but was so funny to write. This will be one of the last posts I make before I take like a one to two-week hiatus since final exams are coming up for me soon, so enjoy these little headcanons while I'm crying over studying for said exams! I'm still learning how to capture each character's personality so I'm so sorry if this is trash 💀

This man will give you the biggest and warmest cuddle session you have ever had in your entire life

Ushijima is just so l a r g e, there’s no way this man isn’t warm

Cuddling up to him will literally cure your period cramps

Like he’s just a walking heating pad at this point

In the beginning, I feel like, for the most part, he’s not really sure how to help

I don’t think he’s that dense that he doesn’t know what a period is, I think he has a general understanding of them but doesn’t understand how bad the symptoms can get

Like, you could be curled up on the bed, tears streaming down your face, a stabbing pain shooting through your uterus, and nausea and discomfort just ripping through you

And he’ll be standing on the side of the bed just patting your back awkwardly

But once you kind of explain to him how bad they can be, he kind of just starts to pick up on it

He may be a little dense at times, but he’s definitely a quick learner

He will ABSOLUTELY give you tummy rubs when your stomach is being a little baby-back [redacted]

Like I said earlier, he is just w a r m!! So his hand is bound to be warm too

Now take that, and imagine him humming to you to get you to fall asleep while he’s rubbing your tummy

After he lulls you to sleep, I feel like he’d leave some medicine and a glass of water for you to wake up to

He doesn’t want you to fall asleep or wake up in pain or discomfort

If you happen to stain the sheets, Ushijima will not bat an eye

He knows its normal so he’ll just gently wake you up, telling you that he prepared a warm shower/bath for you to clean yourself up in

And while you’re in the bathroom, he’ll change the sheets and get you a fresh pair of clothes for you, leaving them on the bed for you to find

If you feel embarrassed about staining the sheets, he’s not gonna understand why

“Embarrassed? Why? These things are normal, are they not?”

Sweet boy just wants to take care of his baby, and that’s what he’s gonna do

As much as he seems like he doesn’t care

He does

In my Tsukishima brain-rotted brain, deep down, I believe Tsukishima Kei hates seeing you in pain

Like wholeheartedly

I’m saying this with my entire chest rn, he hates seeing you like this

When he sees you curled up in the bed, fetal position, with your head tucked into your knees, on the inside his heart is slowly cracking

Of course, this kind of translates to “What’s up with you” in that kind of annoyed tone he always has

And when you kind of just grunt in response, he rolls his eyes and lays next to you

He’ll beckon you to lay closer to him and he will give you head scratches

If your period is giving you a headache, his head massages will ease you to sleep easily

And while you’re asleep? He’ll make or buy your favorite meal and buy some strawberry shortcake to share with you

He’ll let you sleep for a while before waking you up

He knows you feel like absolute trash, so letting you sleep in was the least he could do

“Hey sleepyhead, get up. I bought food”

If you’re dealing with mood swings, he knows how to calm you down

He could leave kisses on the top of your head

Or begrudgingly cuddle with you on the couch while watching your favorite movie

Either way, he’ll always find a way to defuse your mood swings

While his face and tone may say otherwise, his actions are sweet and tender, but of course, he’s not gonna admit that

Although Tsukki can be a little cold-hearted on the outside, his heart is always gonna be soft for you

He’s the most dramatic out of all of them

But he uses his dramatics as an excuse to take care of you

“I can’t have my poor Y/N suffer like this, it just breaks my poor little heart”

“You mean the same little heart that wanted to set Ushijima’s farm on fire?”

“😐😑😐”

Anything you need, Oikawa is out to get it

You need more pads? Tampons?

He’s out the house and to the store in 2 seconds flat

And you don’t even need to ask for snacks cus he’d buy them either way

He’ll buy you all of your favorite snacks and drinks without even having to be asked

He’s the type to spoil you on your period to make you feel better

Whatever you want, he’s there to provide it

This man looks like the biggest simp to the rest of his team

And he doesn’t even care because “my precious Y/N isn’t feeling well, I have to be a caring boyfriend and nurse them back to health”

Meanwhile, you’re literally on the sideline watching like 🧍‍♂️

I’m not joking when I say this man will treat you like glass

Maki definitely convinced him that people with periods shed their skin and he prepared everything for that to happen 💀

As funny as that was to you, you had to explain

Maki had to run 20 laps that day

His heart was in the right place though! He just wants his love to be as comfortable as possible during this time of the month

Kenma’s gonna find subtle ways to make you feel better

If you’re feeling nauseous, he will make you some tea and leave it on your nightstand for you

If your head starts to hurt, he’ll leave a few aspirin pills and some water

And if you’re laying in bed by yourself, he will crawl up next to you and lay with you, an arm draped over your body comfortably

If you so wished to, he will take a nap with you as well

He’s not gonna make a big deal out of it either

Out of all of them, I think Kenma is the one who knows what to do when you’re on your period

Like, he knows how your body functions in and out, like clockwork

Throughout your relationship, he’s been very perceptive of how you act and what your body does

And in turn, he knows the right ways to make you feel 10x better

At any point during your period, whether it be your lightest day or heaviest day, no matter what, Kenma will reserve a time where the two of you will just sit in bed and play games on his switch

If you aren’t feeling well, he’ll let you cuddle up to him and watch while he plays

He’ll give you a few kisses on your head or rub your back occasionally

And you guys will usually stay like this until you fall asleep

And if you’re up for a few games, he’ll use this time to keep an eye on you to make sure you’re alright

“Just relax against me, you’ll feel better soon. I promise”

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dragonmuse · 2 years

Note

i hope you know i have reread all parts of leda house and the kraken at least once and the lucius and izzy focused one like a good like 10 times . it feeds my brain rot ! and i forced my friend it read all of it 💜 BUT YEAH goblin king and the pup honestly you made me love the ship more then i thought was possible as one of the og lucius / izzy truthers on twt . also if you would maybe we see more of pete , lucius and izzy interacting , maybe if *everyone* was dragged out onto a day event i’d love to see the dynamic when all three aren’t separated by (mostly) meticulous planning . feels chaotic :3

(I’m sorry I sat on this one for so long, but here is a hit of all three of them! Thank you so very much!)

Izzy was just coming out of the changing room, thinking through his planned workout when he heard Lucius’ voice. Which was frankly bizarre.

“There he is.”

And there was Lucius, dressed down in jeans and r-shirt, towing along Pete who was in ratty basketball shorts and a washed out Revenge tank.

“Hi,” Pete mumbled.

“What?” Izzy asked helplessly.

“He’s been complaining about losing arm wrestling to John.” Lucius shrugged, then glanced upward. “Is that at observation deck?”

“It’s a smoothie bar,” Izzy said blankly.

“With a view. I’m going to get a snack and window shop. You two have fun.” Lucius turned on his heels and walked off.

“Sorry,” Pete said weakly. “His idea.”

“It’s always his idea. You actually want to work out?”

“Yeah. Just been awhile. Used to have an impressive bench press but…”

“Come on,” Izzy sighed. “Probably should have a spotter.”

Pete might be out of shape but he did actually seem to know what he was doing for the most part. Izzy spotted him and took his own turn. As they loosened up, they talked a little about what they were doing and maybe bragged about a time when they could both do more. It wasn’t the worst thing to ever happen.

“I’m disgusting,” Pete laughed afterwards. “You’d think I’d get used to sweating like this.”

“Never happens.” Izzy sympathized.

They both emerged from the changing room clean enough and headed upstairs. Lucius was leaning against the smoothie bar, giving his full attention to a guy more built than either of them could ever hope to be.

Yet as soon as he caught sight of them, all that flirtatious attention was re-aimed, the young adonis dismissed. Lucius shook his smoothie slowly, the took a long sip seductively and grinned.

“Everyone’s alive and walking, what a treat.”

“It wasn’t bad,” Pete said stoically. Izzy was pretty sure the guy was going to be secretly icing himself tonight but whatever that was his deal. “What’re you drinking?”

“Something strawberry. I stopped reading after the fifth ingredient. Iz, got you your usual and got an earful about what a precise dick you are about it.”

“They have nut free blender for a reason,” he said untroubled by that report. He accepted the cup of Green slush from him.

“What is that?” Pete pulled a face.

“You don’t want to know,” Lucius wrinkles his nose. “Kale is involved.”

Izzy made no effort to defend the drink. It was kind of vile but in a good way that he had no ability to explain. He deliberately took the top off so he could chug it down.

“I don’t know I’m impressed or kind of sick,” Pete frowned.

“You get used to that,” Lucius nodded. “I got you a mango thing, babe.”

“Aw thanks.”

“I need some actual food,” Lucius announced. “Iz, if we go that one cafe will you sit with us, have a coffee?”

It was Sunday morning. Izzy had assumed they’d continue on their usual routine which as he understood it was a lot of watching tv while tidying up the apartment and doing some kind of collective meal with John and Frenchie.

Izzy had his own routine to start. Meal prep for the week and laundry to do. But…none of that was going anywhere.

“Yeah all right.”

It wasn’t the morning he’d expected, but it wasn’t bad sharing a little table with them. He was quiet, mostly listening to their easy banter, but he participates here and there, getting off the sly comments that always made Lucius snicker. I eve and awhile they got Pete too which was interesting.

At some point Lucius stretched out, feet intermingling with Pete’s and his arm around the back of Izzy’s chair and looking as pleased as Sweeney did with a catnip mouse.

#leda house and the kraken verse #goblin king and the pup #ficlet #lucius black #pete black #izzy hands #marry me about it

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headcanonsandmore · 3 years

Text

Scars That Lie Beneath

Summary: The Weasley siblings discuss who was the least favourite. However, only Harry notices that the youngest Weasley son does not take part, and instead leaves the room. (Character study for Ron Weasley, taking place in the summer after the end of DH)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read on FFN. Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The long August days were slowly growing colder, and the Burrow was filled with the familiar sounds of the Weasley siblings chatting in the kitchen. Mr and Mrs Weasley had gone to a Ministry function. After a wonderful meal, courtesy of Ron (the sibling who had picked up the slack most when Mrs Weasley was too grief-stricken to cook), the siblings, plus Harry, were laughing and chatting around the kitchen table.

Hermione was spending the evening with her parents, although Harry could tell that Ron was thinking about her a lot.

It was, after all, not that long ago that Ron and Hermione had gone to Australia and removed the memory charm on Mr and Mrs Granger. Harry watched Ron out of the corner of his eye, as the redhead began to sort leftover food from the day into the compost bucket. The conversation between Ron’s other siblings drifted lazily over his head, until-

‘Oh, like you can comment, Bill,’ Ginny exclaimed, laughing. ‘You were always the favourite!’

‘What? Because I was born first?’ Bill replied, chuckling. ‘You’re the girl mum always wanted; you’re clearly the favourite.’

‘I always thought Percy was favourite,’ George said. ‘I mean, he was the prefect and everything.’

‘I was the overachiever,’ Percy added, quickly. ‘That doesn’t mean I was loved more; I was just trying to stand out against Bill and Charlie.’

‘Well, who was the least favourite, then?’ Ginny asked.

Ron suddenly stiffened, holding tightly onto the compost bucket.

Without a word, he carried the bucket over to the door, and vanished out into the Burrow’s garden without a word.

Harry’s eyes flicked around the room. None of the Weasley siblings seemed to have noticed Ron’s reaction.

‘Well, Ron, then…’

Harry’s eyes flicked to George, who had spoken.

‘I mean, he did get to have at least one friend round every summer after his first year. Can’t say mum and dad ever let Lee stay round that much.’

‘That’s because Harry and Ron together have more brain cells than you and Lee.’

‘Shut up!’ George said, as the other siblings laughed.

Harry got up, and left the table. Ginny looked at him quizzingly, but he mouthed “fresh air” and she nodded in understanding.

The summer heat had still not evaporated, meaning that Harry didn’t feel the cold as he stepped outside and closed the door behind him. The garden was dark and peaceful. Although, he could still hear the distant sounds of the Weasley siblings laughing and bickering in the kitchen.

Harry approached the composter; the smell of slowly rotting fruit and veg was mercifully contained by the cover, which Ron had just placed back on top.

‘Mate?’

Ron turned. His blue eyes stood out against the green around them. They were also wet with tears.

‘Harry? What are you-’

‘I… I wanted to check you were okay.’

‘R-really?’

‘Course. You’d do the same for me.’

Ron nodded, as he hurriedly wiped his eyes.

‘S-sorry, I… I just…’

The two sat down on the bench nearby. The garden was quiet around them.

‘It’s…it’s just hard, knowing this is never going to be as difficult for them as it is for me,’ Ron said, his voice breaking slightly. ‘Knowing that they can joke and bicker about it without worry, but I’ve got this voice in my head telling me that I was always the least favourite. And that… that no-one else ever seems to realise. I… I can’t joke about it. It’s too painful.’

‘I… I realise, Ron.’

Harry placed a hand on Ron’s arm. The redhead smiled, despite his tears.

‘You’re… you’re a good mate, Harry.’

‘Well, I learned from the best.’

Ron smiled more, his usual lop-sided grin falling into place.

‘Stop it, mate, I’m being serious-’

‘So am I, Ron,’ Harry said. ‘Really. You’re the best at this. Always have been.’

‘T-thank you.’

Harry wished that he had known about Ron’s insecurities sooner. Yes, he had always known that Ron felt a little underappreciated compared to his siblings and to Harry himself, but he had never realised the sheer depths of the insecurity Ron had felt for his entire life.

‘The others were saying…’ Harry said, quietly. ‘Well, they thought you were the favourite.’

Ron raised an eyebrow.

‘Really? Why?’

‘Er… you got to invite me and Hermione to stay for the summer most years. Apparently, the others didn’t get to have that with their friends.’

Ron chuckled, mirthlessly, to himself.

‘I… I don’t think they’re right,’ Harry continued. ‘Yes, you got to have me and Hermione round to stay, but… that’s missing the point. For me at least, your parents knew how rotten the Dursleys were, and so Molly and Arthur wanted me to be somewhere safe. And where safer than with the Weasleys themselves?’

Ron didn’t answer, and Harry went on.

‘As for Hermione… well, she was coming to the Quidditch World Cup, so it made sense for her to stay at the Burrow. And then the war came, so it was safer for her to stay with the Weasleys.’

‘Also… well, it makes the whole thing about me and Hermione, doesn’t it,’ Harry said, feeling that same frustration he had always felt before whenever Ron was ignored, but never this strongly. ‘It’s like you being ignored all that time is fine, because you got to spend a little more time each year with your two friends from school. Two friends who always got more attention than you anyway. The other Weasleys get accused of being the favourite because of who they are; you get accused of it because of who your friends are.’

Harry’s hands curled into fists, and he glowered into the darkness ahead of them.

‘How… how do you stand it, Ron?’ Harry asked, his nails digging into the fabric of his jeans. ‘It’s… you’ve been dealing with this for basically your whole life, right? Hermione only has a vague sense of it, and she still thinks it’s horrible. I’ve only realised this recently, and already I just want to scream whenever I see this happening. It’s just so…’

Ron moved, and Harry found the redhead enveloping him in a hug.

‘Er, Ron?’ Harry said. ‘You okay?’

‘Y-yeah,’ Ron said, quietly. ‘Just… thank you, Harry.’

‘For what?’

‘Just… thank you.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone; hope you liked it!

#harry potter fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #tw: insecurities #tw: low self-esteem #tw: low self esteem #tw: mental health #character study #ron weasley #harry potter #harry and ron brotp #ron and harry brotp #harry's wheezy #wheezy #'the person harry potter would miss most'#harry loves ron SO MUCH #ron loves harry SO MUCH #tw: food mention

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joheunsaram · 4 years

Text

To Make A Power Couple - 07 (knj)

Chapter 7: Blanket Forts

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- At the hospital, Namjoon tries to make sense of what transpired as Y/N recovers.

word count- 6k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, angst, action, strangers2lovers

warnings- violence, blood, stalker, hospital, extremely fluffy scenes of Joon as a caretaker

a.n- wow i literally wrote this the fastest i’ve written any chapter! i hope you like it. although there is angst there is also a lot of tooth rotting fluff. special s/o to @jungkooksbroski for beta reading this 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

—

Namjoon held your hand in both of his, his forehead resting upon them, as he waited for you to wake up from surgery, the beep of the heart monitor far too loud and ominous. His hood was on his head as his elbows dug into the ratty blue basketball shorts he had thrown on in a hurry. Even though the doctors had assured him that you were going to be fine, he was still worried. He couldn’t believe that you had gotten hurt at his own house of all places and he felt responsible as he replayed the scene in his head.

You looked so small next to the woman attacking you, it made his blood run cold. She was easily twice your size and the malice her gaze held was frightening. He barely registered her presence, how could she have been in his room the whole time he was home? Why didn’t he put his bags away so he could have caught her before she attacked? Why didn’t he hear someone else was home? He remembered hearing a noise while starting food prep and he assumed it was Moni just messing around. How stupid he had been. He was supposed to be your boyfriend, wasn’t it his responsibility to protect you?

He wasn’t even fast enough to pull her off you. He remembers time slowing down, his arms around the intruder as he tried his best to move her away but she seemed to be on a rampage, stomping on your arm. He remembers the moment her heavy boots almost flattened your arm. It was as if she wore them for the occasion. How did she even get in? He had never been happier to have Jungkook and Jimin around. If it weren’t for their help, he doesn’t even want to imagine how he would have managed. He could still feel the adrenaline in his body, hours later. The guards downstairs had been quick to arrive and he remembers sitting in his underwear trying to wake you up as he watched your arm twisted in an unnatural angle. Your scream still ricocheted through his head and he held your hand tighter, wishing you’d wake up already. The doctor had said it would take a couple of hours but he was on edge.

“But I love you!” the intruder had screamed as she was being dragged off by the guards and Namjoon hated his fame once again. He hated that it affected you, that it hurt you. If he was a nobody, you would’ve never been in this situation. You deserve someone who could hold your hand in public without fear that it might cause a controversy. Someone who you could show off at your events, someone you could travel with, someone who could take you out at normal hours to exhibits and didn’t have to sneak around with at concerts. Someone who screamed his love from rooftops, unlike him who only hid you away.

“Hyung. She’s okay. The doctor said she will be okay.” Jimin spoke softly, his arms around Namjoon’s shoulders as he hugged him back, feeling dizzy. Across from him Jungkook paced in the deluxe private hospital room that their company had reserved for them. The big room had a large bed, couch and television. Its warm wood furnishing and several fake plants were meant to emit a feeling of warmth but regardless of the size or decor, Namjoon felt like he was suffocating.

“She’s in surgery. Surgery. Because of me. Jimin what do I do?” He could feel a lump in his throat as he tried to stay strong. He knew logically that you would be fine, but all he could think was 1%. That’s what the doctor said the chance was of anything going wrong. He knew that millions of people broke their arms and were perfectly fine after a few months but you were his one in a million. The fact that he even met you was so random that he thought it fate. You always managed to do the impossible and in his emotional state that 1% chance was too large. Far too large.

Yoongi had arrived shortly after Jimin messaged the group about the home invasion and he stood next to Jimin and Namjoon, his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder as he tried to force him to drink water. The three men tried to reassure Namjoon in vain as he finally let go of Jimin to sit on the couch, his eyes glued to the door, pulling on the sleeves of his sweater as his leg bounced on its own accord.

After almost two hours he saw the door open as you were brought in on a stretcher, still asleep as the nurses moved you to the bed, checking your vitals. Yoongi had to physically restrain Namjoon from running over to you so the workers could do their job, but as soon as they were gone, he was by your side.

You were okay. Nothing went wrong and it felt like a boulder had been lifted off his shoulders as he all but collapsed, holding your hand, his head gingerly resting on your stomach. The boys bid him goodbye soon after making sure he was okay, giving the two of you privacy but ensuring Namjoon that their phones would be on them in case he needed someone with him. No one was getting sleep tonight.

Before Namjoon could let his negativity flood him further, he felt your hand twitch between his and he sat up, looking at your face intently as you finally opened your eyes looking at him groggily.

“Oh thank fuck!” He exclaimed, standing up without letting go of your hand, instead squeezing it tighter as he looked over at you. Your other arm was in a cast, laying over your stomach, both your eyes bruised and swollen underneath, your nose still red as you looked at him with wide eyes. His heart pained as he looked at the evidence of his failings, but for you he smiled, small and not reaching his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” you whispered, your voice hoarse. Namjoon felt his heart race, like it was going to fall out of his chest, panic slowly rising.

“Who…? You don’t know me?”

“Wait… aren’t you famous?” You asked again and he dropped your hand in shock, shaking as he rushed towards the door. Memory loss? That wasn’t a symptom they mentioned. You didn’t have a concussion and it scared him that the doctors missed something, fear making him almost sprint the short the distance.

“What the fuck? Okay. Don’t worry. I’m going to get the doctor!”

Before he could reach the door, he heard you giggle, turning around in disbelief as he heard your next words. “Joon! Stop! I was kidding!”

“You were kidding? You were KIDDING?!” He almost yelled, before checking himself. His mouth hung open for a moment as you watched him walk towards you slowly and standing over you, his brows scrunched into a pained expression on his face. “Red. Red, Y/N. You can’t joke right now, do you know how scared I was?” He whispered, sudden relief turning into exhaustion as he felt his knees almost buckle. He had never felt this overwhelmed before.

“Hey. Joonie, baby. I’m sorry.” You called to him gently, reaching for him, your fingers squeezing reassuringly around his forearm that hung next to you. Hearing him call red made you feel suddenly guilty. Even in your worst fights where you were both screaming at each other, the most either of you had called for was yellow. You had only wanted to lighten his mood, crack a joke to make him smile for real but your post-anaesthesia brain couldn’t come up with anything better.

“You’re sorry?” He looked at you incredulously before his long arms were placed gingerly around your waist as his head reached for the crook of your neck, resting there and he inhaled. You smelt different, like disinfectant and he hated it, feeling his lip quiver as he spoke against your skin in quick, flurried words.. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, baby. Fuck! Why are you even with me? I literally put your life in danger! You should break up with me! You’re gonna have a gigantic scar and like metal inside you forever! You deserve so much -”

“Oh man! A scar? Who’s gonna marry me now?” You interrupted his rant and tried to make your voice lighter, wanting to ease his worries, assure him that you were back to normal. You looked at your useless right arm, wishing you could hug him but settled for slowly running your fingers through his hair with your left to calm him down.

“I’ll marry you. I’ll do it right now!” He moved his head away from your neck, leaning his weight on his hands that now rested next to you on the bed, looking at you intensely. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears and you felt your heart break. You cupped his face, your thumb stroking his cheek as you tried to comfort him.

“Come here. Lie down.” You winced a little as you scooted to the side despite his protests, making room for him. He reluctantly laid down, his head in the crook of your arm and his feet dangling off the end of the bed. You slowly caressed his shoulder and felt him relax as he nuzzled the side of your chest, his arm draping over your hips carefully. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one that’s hurt.” His voice was small, muffled against you as his thumb traced meaningless patterns against you where it lay.

“Baby you literally asked me to break up with you and marry you in the same breath - you are not fine.” You spoke softly, your hand squeezing his shoulder as he took a shuddering breath. You looked at the dim tv that had the hospital’s menu channel on, displaying the time, 3:21 am. He argued not to worry about him, but you couldn’t help it. He had never looked more exhausted in your presence - even after twelve hours of dance practice on three hours of sleep, he didn’t look this drained. Your fingers moved upwards lightly scraping his scalp, his arm tightening around you, as you spoke. “I love you, you know that right?”

He sniffled, the hospital gown getting damp as he told you about his earlier worries. You hushed him, comforting him with words and coaxing him to sleep. His hand wrapped around the index finger poking out of your cast as he fell asleep after a while, his snores music to your ears. No matter what he believed, you still felt safe with him next to you.

———————————-

You looked at the soft light of dawn as it flows through the window, trying not to move as your arm throbbed in the cast. In the few hours since he fell asleep, Namjoon’s head had moved, now resting on your chest as his arm was draped over your hips, but he looked so peaceful that you dared not wake him up. You barely slept, your pain medication wearing off much too quickly. You had never broken a bone before, and as you thought about how dumb your fifth grade self was for wanting a cast, you wished your boyfriend would wake up at his own accord. You desperately needed to call the nurse for some paracetamol, but you grit your teeth and bore it. You knew you were being stupid and Namjoon would be genuinely pissed if he knew, but looking at his mouth hanging open as he drooled over you made you smile at the endearing picture infront of you.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?), soon a nurse walked in for his morning rounds, waking up a groggy Namjoon who startled, almost falling off the bed, making you hiss as he accidentally held on too hard to your side to keep balance. He stood up, running his hands over his face in order to wake up properly while the nurse did the checkup, providing you with the pain killers you request. Once he leaves, Namjoon moves back to you, putting his arm under your head as this time you nuzzle into his chest. You talked about nothing as the drugs finally took effect, helping you doze off. Namjoon kissed the top of your head as you dropped off mid sentence, a smile on his face because you were alright, but a heaviness in his heart as he looked at the bruises on your face, dark blue and almost black.

———————————-

“Shh… Guys come on. Let her rest!”

Namjoon’s theatrical whisper is the first thing you hear when you wake up again. Your eyes open to your room filled with all your friends. The room had seemed extremely large the last time you were awake but now it seemed tiny. Jiyoung was sitting on the couch typing on her phone with a frown, an Apeach plush on her lap, next to her Siwon was talking animatedly with a tired looking Jungkook munching on some chips. The coffee table in front of them was full of snacks, gifts, and flowers. Seokjin, Yoongi and Jimin were talking about something hushed as they stood near the television, serious looks on their faces. Hoseok was bent over the humidifier in the corner which seemed turned off, messing with the controls and grumbling to himself. Harry sat in the chair next to the bed, talking to Namjoon with Jen standing over him with her hand on his shoulder. Namjoon sat on the bed near your legs, his hand on your calf, and Taehyung sat next to him clinging on his waist. Needless to say, it warmed your heart to see all the people you loved here. Maybe getting injured wasn’t that bad.

You winced as you moved up the bed to get more comfortable and suddenly all the attention was on you, the room turning into a cacophony of “How are you feeling?”s and “Are you okay?”s. Everyone was now crowded around the bed, looking at you with worry, Seokjin even handing you the RJ plush he’d brought along with him stating its healing powers. It was odd to be coddled by such a large group. Overwhelming, but in the best way.

“I’m fine guys. It’s just a broken arm.” You tried to diffuse the worries.

“You should look at your face dude.” Siwon stated, causing Namjoon to sigh, annoyed, and you to ask for a mirror. Oof you looked worse than you felt. By the bruises on your face it was a wonder how your nose wasn’t broken. Sheepishly you tried to explain to the group that it wasn’t that bad, but your friends were not convinced.

Soon the conversation turned from worries about you to who the attacker was in the first place. While you and Namjoon were in the hospital, Jungkook and Jimin had been to the police to give in-depth statements. Turns out Namjoon had a stalker - someone the company and security had been keeping an eye on for months, but who seemed to have fallen off the map 6 weeks ago. Apparently the same one who had caused the dates at the beginning of your relationship to always be under the watchful eye of his security team. No one knows how she had managed to break into the dorms but apparently she had been hiding out in his room for a week, his closet was full of tins of food she had consumed during her stay. It was surreal to hear that someone had been in the house and no one had noticed. It made sense to an extent - no one had been actively living in the dorms for a few weeks, especially not Namjoon so his room was never opened. The boys seemed extra distressed about it, and even thought themselves guilty. Namjoon’s words from last night echoed in your head. He put himself at fault, when really it was this woman’s fault.

No one knew what her plan was when Namjoon returned, and you didn’t want to find out. It might seem odd but you were glad that you were there to protect him in a sense. Apparently seeing you had started such a rage in her that she refused to talk further than the death threats she spewed against you. She was in jail and you hoped she stayed there for a long time.

“The police haven’t taken into account your assault. You should file a report.” Hoseok spoke for the first time, his face hardened. The room seemed in agreement, but you hesitated.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea…” you started, only for Namjoon, who was now seated next to you on the bed with his arm around you, to counter but you continued. “I’m just saying. Police records are public and if someone looks into this person who was charged with stalking Joon the same night as attacking me, they might put two and two together and I don’t want that to reflect on him or any of you guys.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Y/N?” It was Yoongi who spoke, clearly irritated and impatient. “Who cares about that? She attacked you, she deserves to be in jail.” His voice was quiet, but the frustration in his tone was not lost.

“She’s already in jail though… It’s not gonna make a difference.”

“Noona… I know it’s not our decision but you didn’t see yourself when she was attacking you.” Jungkook’s voice wavered as he looked at you with hurt in his eyes. “She deserves to pay for what she did…”

“Guys… I know you want the best for me, but it’s too risky… Even you all being here right now is too risky!” It was time for your voice to waver as you suddenly realized the impact of having all of them in the room. All it took was one shitty quality photo from a nurse’s Samsung to ruin their image. You didn’t know how you’d be able to handle it if you were responsible for their first big scandal.

“Okay. I’m going to stop you right there. This is a private place we always use. This is not a risk.” Seokjin spoke slowly, enunciating each word as if trying to explain the situation to a five year old. He didn’t do it in a condescending manner, more to make you understand. “Please stop worrying about us. Our company has stopped way bigger scandals from surfacing. Namjoon, can you please make her understand?”

Namjoon sighed loudly next to you, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer. It felt comforting, but you still felt slightly cornered. You just couldn’t see the logic in what they were saying. The attacker’s jail time would probably not change much with an assault added, at least you didn’t think so - so why was this a big deal.

“It’s her choice, hyung. I’m not going to force her to press charges if she doesn’t want to.” Namjoon looked steely at his member, before turning to you and softening. “But Y/N, I really do want you to make that decision without thinking of me or the rest of us. Can you do that?”

“No. Sorry. I can’t.” You were adamant and now you were starting to get annoyed. Namjoon was right - it was your choice - and it felt nice to have him on your side, at least partially, through this argument, but it didn’t make sense not to make it an isolated discussion. “You’re part of the situation and I can’t just make the decision without adding you to it. I’m not pressing charges.”

You heard a loud snort from Yoongi. “Why are you being an idiot?” He spoke to which Hoseok vocally agreed, causing you to almost yell your explanation in exasperation, before Harry broke the argument asking everyone to take a break and to lay off you.

There was thick tension in the room and it seemed to have sapped the air out of you. You felt uneasy, like no matter how deeply you inhaled you were breathless. You felt claustrophobic suddenly, squeezing Namjoon’s thigh, trying to control your heartbeat. Namjoon saw the distress on your face, immediately requesting everyone to move outside. It didn’t take them long to leave and somehow that helped you feel calmer.

When the room was empty, Namjoon looked at you. Turning to him, you buried your face in his chest, squishing the white alpaca between you and moving your injured arm on his stomach to hug him, despite the sharp pain that made you hiss. Breathing in his scent, somehow made the stress of last night catch up to and you cried. Namjoon held your head gently to his chest as you tangled your legs in his, wanting to almost disappear into him. You didn’t know why you were suddenly crying, but you couldn’t help it - it was like a dam broke, like you were leaking, your emotions cascading out of you onto Namjoon’s sweater. You couldn’t control your sobs and you wondered how loud you were being.

Namjoon felt his heart break as he held you. He had only seen you cry like this once - the night he asked you to be his girlfriend - and it pained him that he was partially responsible for your tears today. He didn’t know what to do other than whisper “you’re safe now” repeatedly against your hair as you clung to him clumsily. He shouldn’t have let everyone visit so soon. He should’ve thought ahead. Of course you were overwhelmed, you were traumatized. He was an idiot.

When you calmed down enough to look at him, he wiped your tears gently, barely even touching your skin, and handed you some water from the bedside table. He tried to assure you the best he could, interrupted intermittently by nurses and discharge forms. He didn’t bring up pressing charges again and you were grateful to him for that.

He helped you change into clothes Siwon had picked up for you, insisting you take the wheelchair to the car despite your protests (“My arm’s broken, not my leg Joonie!”). Before you entered your apartment Namjoon asked his security team to do a sweep. You would never admit it to him but having the place checked out before you entered made you extremely relieved. You knew it was irrational to think you’d have another stalker waiting for you but it genuinely made you feel lighter, your anxiety ebbing away.

He spent the next few hours quietly worrying about little things, changing the code to your door, checking every lock, making you tea, and even cleaning your place to ensure you had “optimum comfort”, while forcing you to stay in bed regardless of your protests. After a while you couldn’t take him running around and murmuring to himself, especially when he decided to order from six restaurants for dinner. Walking into the kitchen where he obsessively cleaned a single spot on the countertop, you pulled him away.

“Joonie. Stop.” you gently touched his hand, startling him anyways as he looked at you in alarm.

“Oh. Do you need anything? Tell me, I’ll get it. Water? Bathroom?” He bent down slightly to look you in the eyes, searching your face for any discomfort.

“Namjoon, I have a broken arm, I’m not an invalid.” You rolled your eyes. It was sweet that he was this concerned but you seriously needed him to stop running around worried.

“Wait, you said Namjoon. Are you mad at me?” He looked alarmed, his eyes wide. Now that you looked at him closely, he didn’t seem to be doing too well either. His eyes seemed sunken behind his glasses, the crease between his eyebrow deep, and his stubble growing out more than you’d ever seen. You wondered if he got much sleep after you dozed off this morning. He even seemed skinnier somehow, though you chalk that up to your imagination.

“No baby I’m not mad at you. Just stop… obsessing. I’m fine. I swear.” You cupped his face with your working hand, thumb circling his cheekbones in an effort to relax him. He leaned in closing his eyes.

“Oh… oh. I just want to show you I love you. You know like you do…” He mumbled in a slight pout, averting your gaze.

“What are you talking about?”

“You always take care of me when I’m down. I want to take care of you.” You felt your heart glow in your chest. Sometimes you forget how much you love this man, but sometimes he says things that, for a lack of a better analogy, punch you in the face, reminding you why you love him. You wrap your arm around his waist, nuzzling your face into his chest, as he tentatively puts his arm around your head.

“You don’t need to deep clean my kitchen to take care of me babe. Just sit next to me. Let’s watch a movie.” You lean away from his chest to tell him, trying to tug his unmovable body towards the living room.

“Are you sure? I’m almost done. Just this one stain…” He lets go of you to grab the wipe again, only for you to pull at his hand.

“Joon. Leave it.” You say sternly, holding his hand as you lean up. “Kiss me.”

“What? No. You’re hurt.” He moves back and you have to convince your irrational feelings that he wasn’t rejecting you, he was worried about you.

“If it hurts, I’ll tell you.”

“No you won’t. I know you.”

“Joonie!” you whine and he relents, although it’s not a kiss you were hoping for. He settles for a series of small pecks against your lips, so light that you barely felt him. Sure even puckering your lips was slightly painful but you were annoyed, rolling your eyes at his lame attempt. And this was the man who had spanked you so hard once that you couldn’t sit without wincing for two days. The audacity.

Before you could protest he walked with you to the living room and turned on Netflix. Picking a brainless comedy, you forced him to lie down on your lap and even before the title had come up he was asleep.

———————————-

“What wrong baby?” Namjoon came from the studio to find you lying on the ground still dressed in your pajamas with half your hair tied lopsidedly as you whined at seemingly no one, ignoring Moni as he licked your face. If he wasn’t worried that you somehow fell, he would find the sight of you throwing a tantrum like a toddler adorable.

It had been three days since you returned from the hospital, but Namjoon hadn’t seen you looking this dejected before. You had been completely normal on Sunday, even agreeing to the guys coming over for dinner so they could apologize for their behaviour at the hospital. You had riffed like usual, making fun of Jin and Yoongi as they cooked even though it seemed like you itched to get in the kitchen and help, even getting especially giddy as your childhood dream of getting a cast signed by your friends was fulfilled. The next two days, despite everyone’s insistence you had returned to work, working from home. Fortunately Harry and Siwon had rescheduled or taken over all your client meetings to lighten your load. Namjoon had returned to work too but made sure to text you throughout the day and had spent every night with you, regardless of your protests of being an “independent woman that needs no man”.

“I hate this! I’m so frustrated! I feel useless and gross!” you whined as you thrash around on the floor comically with the biggest pout he had ever seen you sport. Dropping his bag near the door and trying not to chuckle at your cute behaviour, Namjoon walked over to you kneeling next to you.

“Aww baby come here” He opened his arms invitingly as you sat up, only for you to sit crossed leg in front of him to begin your rant. Moni moves between your legs and you scratch his head absent-mindedly.

“No! I can’t attend any meetings till my face doesn’t look like fight club, I can’t shower for two more days, I can’t cook because of this dumbass arm, I can’t even tie my hair! TIE MY HAIR, JOON. I’M UGLY, USELESS AND DISGUSTING. Please leave me in my misery.”

Your face turned red as you continued listing minor inconveniences that your broken arm bestowed upon you as Namjoon made his way behind you and put his arms around your waist, his chin on your shoulder in an effort to calm you down. Instantly you relax, huffing as you leaned into his chest. Today has been tough for you. You had spent two hours on a call relaying your game plan for a potential client to Harry and walking him through his nerves about the meeting, which drained you mentally. Your laptop had restarted two times without warning, your roomba had gotten stuck under the couch and you couldn’t reach for it, you had almost fallen in the toilet because the seat was up, you ran out of coffee, and to top it all off it took you ages to write anything with your left hand alone. You felt miserable and dejected.

“You’re beautiful. My slightly stir-crazy, extremely capable, beautiful girlfriend.” Namjoon kissed your cheek as you turned your head to scowl at him, not buying his flattery. He traced your features gently. He wasn’t lying, even with your face patchy with your yellowing bruise and a scab on your lip, you were beautiful to him and he felt his heart swell the longer he looked at your face. He still had trouble believing that you were with him.

“You’re only saying that cause you love me.” You whisper softly as you avert his gaze before starting to whine again as you adjusted your sling. “Ugh I just want to eat McDonald’s and die.”

“Not going to let you die, but let’s get nuggets.”

———————————-

“Baby I got us Chinese!” Namjoon called out as he walked in your home, hands full of takeout. Hearing no answer he called out again to hear your voice coming from the bedroom.

“Joonie! Crawl under here!” He saw you emerge clumsily from the floor, cast pulled close to your chest, as he entered the room where you had piled the blankets between the edge of the bed and the chairs that you had brought near it. “I made us a fort!”

Your giggles made his heart sing as he grinned and crawled under the fort, taking care not to knock it down. You had brought the lamp from the side table under as well, lighting the small space with a soft glow. He could barely sit up, his height making it difficult not to knock down your creation so he opted for laying down, his head on your thigh as you played with his hair. He sighed in content. It felt somewhat meditative sitting in silence with you under the many sheets, the pile of soft pillows in the corner adding extra coziness.

Soon you’re laying side by side, your fingers intertwined as you bounced your hands against each other. You were both looking at the makeshift comforter ceiling, soft smiles on your faces.

“Why the sudden fort?” Namjoon asks after a while, almost in a whisper, not wanting to break the spell of comfort you both were under.

“I don’t know… It’s stupid.” He turns on his side to face you, cupping your face to make you look at him. It’s the look he always gives you whenever you doubt yourself. A look that says I’m here for you, I’ll never judge you. “I used to build these when I was a kid and missed my mom… I guess I’m feeling kind of homesick. I know it’s dumb.” You chuckle a little at how childish your comments seemed. You were almost thirty and talking about missing your mom.

Namjoon hadn’t thought of this before - the fact that Seoul wasn’t truly your home. Sure you had introduced your mom to him over Skype a few times but he thought about how much he missed Seoul when on tour, did you miss Toronto that way too? You always seemed so content in Seoul, so content with your friends that he never thought about how your family wasn’t there.

“We can go visit home if you want?” He kisses your lips chastely as he continues, his nose nuzzling yours. “I can take a few days off. I’d like to meet your mom in person.”

“We don’t have to. I’m just being a baby.” You laughed as you moved closer and he put his arm under your head to pull you into his chest. You knew this bout was homesickness was temporary, but Namjoon’s words made your heart glow in your chest. It had been two weeks since your attack and although Namjoon had been a rock, helping you with everything from ensuring that you ate to shaving your under arms, you were nostalgic about when you were sick during high school and your mom would take the day off work to take you on a drive, buying you ice cream and snacks that definitely did not help your illness. His idea wasn’t a bad one but with how your injury had messed up your work schedule, you didn’t think you could take time off for a while, and you told him as much. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence again after that, dinner forgotten on the kitchen counter, as you laid under the blankets soaking in the cozy atmosphere.

Caressing your hip slowly where your shirt ended, Namjoon cleared his throat slightly, breaking the spell before he spoke in another whisper. “I could be your home… if you want.”

Moving your head from his chest you look up to find him gazing at you with a soft smile as he turns on his side again. You follow suit, the fingers of your uninjured hand tracing his chest where it stuck between the two of you. Your heart beat faster as you slowly comprehended what he meant, but you still needed him to clarify. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want to move in together?” Namjoon was nervous - more nervous than he had been on your first date, more nervous than he had been when he asked you to be his girlfriend, more nervous than he had been after your first fight. The last two weeks had been some of his favourite with you, regardless of the circumstances that landed him there. He liked coming home to you every night, arguing over what to have for dinner, waking up each morning with his arms around you. You technically didn’t need him around anymore, your schedule was back to normal and you were more than used to navigating with one hand, but he didn’t want to go back to seeing you once or twice a week. How could he do that when he could see you everyday? The domesticity of your morning routines of coffee and reading the news together that had once scared him, were things he craved now. He even loved your playlist of the week startling him awake.

Your prolonged silence made his heart race as he bit his lip in anticipation. Before he could take back his question with a joke, you kissed him. Your lips molded around his tenderly as you took his lower lip between yours, relishing his strawberry lip balm. You break the kiss to whisper a soft yes, barely audible over the sound of your heart in your ears, and Namjoon couldn’t help breaking into a fit of giggles, his forehead against yours as he pulled you closer. He tried to control his reaction but the happiness flowing through him made him feel like he was floating.

“And they were roommates!” You made the dated reference as you giggled along with him.

“You are such a dork. I love you.” He said as he brought his lips back on yours.

“Yeah, your dork!”

“All mine.” He smiled, his eyes disappearing as his cheeks hurt from the joy he felt.

–

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#namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #namjoon series #rm x reader #rm fluff #rm smut #rm angst #houseofddaeng #thebtswritersclub #thetruthuntoldnet #btsnoonanet #purplearmynet #ficswithluv #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fanfction #bts idol au

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askbohemiancompany · 3 years

Note

Dravol @ Gwen: What is it that you F E A R?

In a voice that commanded far more respect than the tiny body of hers should allow for, the skitty asked this question to the two mercs. Their reactions were probably not what she intended.

The two just looked at each other. Freddy showed more surprise. Small stature pokemon were not uncommon and deserved the respect they deserve, it was the combination of this mon being a skitty with a voice that sounded like she commanded an army had him shook.

All Freddy could do was just slowly unwind the question, and how he could answer it without disclosing, or even if he should answer.

Gwen on the other hand was making noises. Giggles that evolved into raspberries and finally capping off at a chuckle.

This was not a good look. The toxicroak shifted his gaze from Gwen back to the skitty multiple times to see any change in either. His employee would not stop laughing.

"Oh I needed this! You know I have to thank you for giving me a little bit of black comedy I can use to give me some pep in my step. Way to open up with big guns!" Gwen eventually composed herself, returning to her previously confident and cocky demeanor before Floyd was murder and before her torture.

Needing to save face, Freddy figured he should at least humor her question. "Well I have to admit I am afraid of dying. No one wants to die, especially since we may go to an afterlife that we know nothing about, we linger on earth with regret as a ghost pokemon or there is nothing at the end of it all."

This was a partial lie. Freddy's deeper fears were something he did not want to disclose to a total stranger. Still the anxiety he mentioned was an existential question he pondered time to time that always made him melancholic.

"Ok my turn. My answer is going to disappoint you, but hey you asked for it unprompted with the cadence of a demon commanding their horde. I don't fear anything. When you go through life like I have, two things will happen. You will become numb to the horrors of the world and how bad everything is crumbling. Second you realize that everyone you...think... "

An uncomfortable feeling came over the gothitelle. She was about to say that her colleagues would betray her but Grohl came to mind first. She knew in her heart Grohl would never betray her. He has always been patient with her and could really show grit when it counted. She could not lump him with the rot of the world. Or Lenox.

The two argued, but Lenox's stubbornness and attempts to hold onto her morals made her endearing. Plus her genuine love for Brittany was something that touched even the assassin. It was why she tried to hold Urami off when he began following all three of them that day. And Weather.

While Weather and her were more acquaintances, knowing how kind he was to Valentini with their mutual bonding over old gaming consoles and magazines was something she appreciated. Mostly due to when the kadabra would talk on the subject of old game ads that did not represent the final product, her brain would almost project out of her body. More importantly Weather never talked down to Valentini, he treated him as an equal.

Gwen deflated back from the confident and condescending swagger she had but a moment ago, something Freddy noticed.

As far as Freddy was concerned, this topic was over. For the mon that asked however, that was not up to his discretion.

#asks #freddy the toxicroak #gwen the gothitelle #asksavel #dravol the skitty

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threeletterslife · 4 years

Text

[Finale] 02 | Ignis Fatuus

→ part 1 | part 2

→ summary: Who knew six grown men plus stupid Jeon Jungkook were so whiny? You're out here in a fucking zombie apocalypse for God's sake. They need to grow the fuck up. And while all of you are waiting for the zombies to eat your brains, why don't you play a nice game of rated-R never have I ever?

→ pairing/rating: jungkook x reader | NC-17

→ genre: 60% crack, 40% angst | apocalypse!au

→ warnings: profanity, depictions of blood, gore and death, sexual innuendos, crude humor

→ wordcount: 6.8k

cr.

You wake with your entire body feeling like it's blazing in a pit of fire. The moment you open your eyes, you wince, the harsh sunlight pouring through the window and chasing away every shadow in the room. It feels like you're in a dream. Everything is so hazy. Colored weirdly. But the excruciating pain in your body screams otherwise. This is reality.

Immediately, Jungkook rushes to your side.

"You're awake! Thank god," he cries. Gingerly, he takes your hands in his and squeezes. "We're all going to get you to the hospital."

You're not in the state to argue, barely even being able to lift your head to nod at his words. If you were in the right state, you would've pointed out the obvious logical flaw in the plan. Risk seven lives for one? Really? But then again, you're in no place to argue. Coherent thoughts are rare now. You can barely remember the date or the month or the year. It all seems like such useless information when you think you're spiraling down to death.

"We need to get her out of bed," Yoongi says, crossing his arm as he leans against the door frame. He glances at you worriedly before biting the inside of his cheek. "And we should leave now so we don't arrive there at night."

The others peek in behind Yoongi, giving you concerned looks while clutching makeshift weapons, which were really dense household objects.

"Here, I'll piggyback her," Jungkook says. "You good with that?" he whispers to you to confirm.

With a delirious smile, you mumble your answer.

Jungkook returns a meek smile before helping you out of bed and hoisting you on his back. "Comfortable?" he grunts as he shifts his hold on your legs

"Mmm," you manage to hum. You're starting to feel tired again, head limp to the side as your eyelids threaten to flutter shut.

"That's it... try to sleep," Seokjin says, reaching over to pat your back. With his other hand, he grasps his favorite fry pan (his choice of weapon) that had gotten sweaty around the handle already.

"Shouldn't we try to keep her awake?" Hoseok counters.

"Too late now," Jimin points out.

You've fallen asleep again. Though it's not a very deep sleep, it helps you forget the overwhelming pain for just a few minutes more.

"I-I don't know," Namjoon says. He nervously carries Jungkook's baseball bat, awkwardly holding it out in front of him—as if he were carrying a repulsive slug and not wielding a weapon. "I don't know if we should let her sleep or keep her awake."

"But you're the only one with enough medical knowledge to determine that!" Taehyung sighs.

"Sometimes, it's just common sense," Namjoon snaps rather crossly. "But even that can't save us now."

The men look helplessly at you sleeping on Jungkook's back.

"We need to stop wasting time," Hoseok finally sighs after the long silence. "We'll be fine, all right. We'll do exactly as planned."

"Wait, we had a plan??" Taehyung asks incredulously.

"Oh, god."

The walk is arduous. The dirt road is much better to travel by vehicle; otherwise, the dust flies up and around everywhere and gets in everyone's shoes and lungs. The group hasn't even reached the city yet, but everyone's irritated already.

You're dipping in and out of consciousness, sometimes being awoken when Jungkook takes a heavier step or when a shock of pain travels across your body. Every time you wake, you wish you'd never opened your eyes.

Your friends are always silent, their eyes trailed straight in front of them. Yoongi occasionally looks at the GPS on his phone, but other than that, the mood is solemn. Too solemn.

Jungkook trails behind the group, obviously being slowed down by the extra weight he's carrying on his back. No one mentions his lagging pace.

But once you catch a weary glimpse of the towering buildings starting to come into perspective, you realize the group is starting to head into the city.

"We need to be very careful," Hoseok warns. "I don't see any of those freaks right now, but—"

"WHAT ARE YOU SAYING, DUDE?" Jimin shrieks in a high-pitched scream. "THERE'S LIKE TWENTY OF THEM RIGHT THERE!"

The moment he points, a cluster of the brain-dead monsters all turn their heads around to stare at the eight of you. They begin to limp towards the group.

"Great," Seokjin rolls his eyes. "If they didn't know we were here before, they know now."

"No time for sarcasm," Jungkook grunts, adjusting your legs so you don't slide off of his back. "We need to get the hell away!"

"And stay quiet!" Taehyung puts his finger to his lips, staring down Jimin, who's shivering in fear already.

"Okay, okay!"

And everyone sprints off.

The zombies groan in vast numbers, dragging their decaying bodies toward you in hopes of sinking their rotting teeth into your flesh. The team uses the buildings and the shadows to its advantage, dodging in and out of the light to confuse the dull monsters. But staying inside for months without much moving had obliterated everyone's stamina.

Jungkook's sweating so much that you're starting to slide off of his back, slowing him down. The others are panting, out of breath and struggling to continue running for their lives.

"W-We," Namjoon gasps, "h-have to s-stop!"

"A-And what?" Yoongi wheezes. "D-DIE??"

Namjoon lets out a disgruntled noise, but Taehyung interrupts his next words, whispers urgently, "There! We can hide there!"

Sure enough, there's a dark corner that Taehyung's pointing to that looks relatively safe. Everyone quickly looks at each other, gauging expressions, silently calculating the possibility of what had the higher possibility of survival—running or hiding. And with everyone physically exhausted—Jungkook especially struggling—the latter is deemed as the smarter choice. Quickly, the eight of you file into the dark corner, Taehyung leading the way.

The moment the group is out of sight from the zombies, Jungkook lets you slide off of his back. He collapses on the group, panting quietly and letting you lean against his arm. The others stand absolutely still, wiping sweat off their brows but not daring to move their feet.

Ten minutes later, the hoard of zombies begins to limp near the dark corner in which you're hiding. It seems like they'll pass by, too dumb to comprehend where their meals had gone. They don't exactly have the brain capacity to suspect that the humans had, indeed, outsmarted them and had hidden away.

"Just look at 'em, those idiots," Taehyung mutters underneath his breath.

"S-Shut up, Tae." Jimin shakes in fear, biting at his nails. The poor man looks just about ready to cry. "Don't say that. Don't even talk. Just don't, dude."

There's a reason why Jimin never stepped out of the house again after the initial outbreak. He's visibly terrified. And even so, he can't tear his eyes away from watching those monsters, slowly but surely making their way past the dark corner.

"Just a few more steps..." Jungkook whispers to you.

You don't know what he means.

"Just a few more steps and we'll be safe..." he says. "Just a few more—"

"Will you shush??" Jimin shrieks.

The moment he raises his voice, the color drains from his cheeks. Big mistake.

The last few zombies who had been trailing near the back of the hoard pause. They look around. Then, they start to limp towards the dark corner.

Everyone scrambles up, hearts beating wildly in your chests. Jungkook tries to help you on his back again, but when his knees almost give out, Seokjin has to volunteer to carry you instead, much to Jungkook's protests. But with a silent look from Seokjin, Jungkook begrudgingly takes the frying pan from the older man and lets you go.

"Fuck, Jimin, you really had to be that loud?" Jungkook sighs.

Jimin's absolutely frozen, eyes looking back and forth between the group and the zombies that are starting to limp towards them to investigate the signs of life. "I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he stutters, gripping his t-shirt and shaking his head in disbelief.

Taehyung sighs. "It's okay. We'll just need to run before they get closer," Taehyung quickly says. "Everyone on my count of three, okay?"

No one dares to speak another work, all opting to nod instead.

"One... two..." Taehyung says. He pauses and swallows before whispering: "Three."

And then he's off, running. The zombies roar in surprise. But Taehyung's too fast for them, the other members of the group right behind him and dodging the zombie's grasping mutilated hands. All except—

"Jimin!" Namjoon gasps quietly. "Wait, I swear, he was right behind me but—"

But there's barely time to stop. Seokjin stumbles when Jimin's pleading shrieks and screams echo throughout the dilapidated city. He quickly regains his balance, gripping your legs tighter before sprinting even faster to catch up to Taehyung. Hoseok's covering his ears, while tears stream down Namjoon's face. Jungkook is biting his lip so hard, he's drawing blood. Yoongi's pale as a ghost. Even Taehyung looks shaken, brows furrowing. But he grits his teeth and continues running.

There's no time to mourn, to time to stop. Everything is a blur.

Minutes of running full speed. Minutes of silent tears. Minutes after Jimin's death.

Finally, the group slows down to a normal walking pace when Taehyung points out that the zombies aren't chasing after them anymore.

By this time, you're silently crying—because you're in physical pain or because of Jimin's death—you're not really sure. Jungkook walks by Seokjin, stealing a couple of worried glances at you. But everyone is worried at this state.

"No more wrong moves," Hoseok mumbles. "No more freezing. No more yelling. No more of anything drastic. I don't want to lose another person."

Everyone nods in agreement. And the walk in silence commences.

"Four more hours," Yoongi says. "Just four more left."

It does little to uplift the plummeting spirits.

When the road turns twisty, Taehyung orders everyone to line up behind him, single-file. He'll check to see if the coast is clear. Cautiously, he checks around the bend to see any threats, but turn after turn, there's nothing waiting for the group. After a while, Taehyung gets more and more careless, walking straight around the curve without even checking if the coast was clear beforehand. The rest of the group starts to relax a bit more. It doesn't quite look like there are zombies around in this area of the city.

You're getting more and more delirious by the second, barely able to see what's ahead of you. You've already mistaken Seokjin for Jungkook twice, and Jungkook still doesn't quite know if you fully comprehend that Jimin.... that Jimin's gone.

Namjoons fiddles with the baseball bat and Hoseok just fidgets nervously—never feeling safe out in the open like this.

And the next time Taehyung turns a corner without looking, a zombie jumps out at him. "Oh shit!" he yells. The two of them tumble to the ground, Taehyung wrestling for his life and screaming out vulgar profanities. The rest of the group freezes—still behind the safety of the wall and not yet visible to whatever monsters that were around the corner.

"Go!" Taehyung screams. "There's more coming to get me!"

Not for one second does he look genuinely scared. But everyone else is.

"Go!" Taehyung yells again when he sees the members hesitate, shell-shocked and pained. "I'm serious! I'll be okay!"

He won't be. Not with all the other zombies coming for his neck. But the others aren't left with a choice—it's either run and leave Tae behind... or everyone dies.

Jungkook doesn't have to say it out loud, but his wide eyes shaped with pain, sorrow and regret speak volumes. Taehyung answers him with a wild grin. Everyone else isn't able to meet his eyes as he fights for the last few minutes of his life. And the group runs away again, forced to abandon yet another member.

None of them stops running. It's like an endless workout—except, when you stop, you don't risk getting less of a calorie burn, you risk death. It's tortuous, really. Especially when you realize that you're a burden. Seokjin has to stop running for a few seconds to take in big gulps of air. He looks almost too tired to move on. Unable to fathom another member giving in to death, Hoseok commands Seokjin: "Hey, I'll carry her."

Hoseok's grip on you is strong but unsure at the same time. He's scared that he'll make you feel uncomfortable (more uncomfortable than you already are, given the wrecked circumstances), and consequently, he's making himself feel worried sick too.

The running presumes.

Everyone is too afraid to stop.

Jungkook gives you worried glances from time to time, but he doesn't offer to take you back. Probably because he can't risk it.

Morale is low, but at least the pain tolerance is high. Everything is a hazy blur to you; it's hard to make up your emotions and comprehend your own feelings through the dull pain. Everyone else is too high on adrenaline to digest the happenings. But you wonder when the pain will finally hit.

It feels like a fever dream. That's what it is. Unspeakable tragedies unfolding before you in rapid succession, leaving you no time to react. So you stay limp.

Finally, after who knows how long, Yoongi orders everyone to stop running. The six of you find refuge in another dark corner that comes right before a wider street.

"Three..." Yoongi pants. "T-Three more... h-hours," he manages to say in between hard breaths. Sweat drips from his hair to his forehead but that's obviously the least of his worries now.

"We're going to have to be more careful," Hoseok says, shifting you on his back but never letting you go.

"Well, what do you think we've been trying to do this whole time??" Namjoon says in an irritated voice. The stress, the pressure, the situation is finally getting to him.

"We can't fight now, Joon," Hoseok answers, shaking his head.

It takes a crisis to get to know one; Hoseok's somehow matured since the last life-and-death disaster.

"You're right. You're right, Hoseok," Namjoon sighs, running his hands through his wet hair. "I'm sorry... I'm just—"

"It's all right," Seokjin says, patting his friend's back. "It's okay. We'll get through."

Jungkook nods. "It's only three more hours."

"There's a wide street just around the corner," Yoongi says. "I don't know if it's gonna work to our advantage, though. Wide streets are theoretically safer than narrow streets... But we're going to feel more out in the open."

"At this point, we can only hope that everything's going to our advantage," Namjoon says. "May I look at the map?" Yoongi hands Namjoon his phone wordlessly. Namjoon studies the map as he always tends to study his binder of med school notes. "I see..." he mumbles to himself. His hands fumble around the small Nokia device, fingers sweaty and shaking as he zooms in and out of the map.

"Sorry to say, but studying the map's not going to increase our survival chances," Jungkook sighs. "I think we should keep on going. That's what we've been doing, right? We just have to keep on going."

"Right..." Namjoon sighs. "Sorry—you're right. Sorr—"

Just as he's about to hand Yoongi his device back, the phone slips from his hand. In slow-motion, everyone watches in horror as the phone plummets to the ground. It makes a loud, echoing clatter when it finally hits the cement.

Immediately, Jungkook acts. "We gotta get in that building!" He points to one near the dark corner. "If any zombies were nearby—"

It doesn't become an if when the horrifying groans of the zombies begin to grow near.

Hoseok's shaking; consequently, so are you.

"How will we know that the building's safe inside??" Yoongi says. He doesn't mean to be rude or to burst anyone's bubble, but it's a chilling possibility that the building isn't safe at all.

"We won't," Seokjin quickly says. "But I'd rather take a chance." He bends down and picks up Yoongi's seemingly unbreakable phone and begins to run towards the building with everyone else at his heels.

By now, the zombies are visible to the six of you, which means they can see you as well. There are about fifteen of them (give or take five), and they grow louder and louder when they realize they're going to have a rich feast. The excitement makes them quick. Before you know it, they're hot on your tracks.

Jungkook's the first one to reach the door to the building. Carefully, he tugs on the door handle. Nothing. It won't even budge. Sweat begins to accumulate on his neck as a form of slow panic.

"Fuck! It won't open!" he hisses.

Seokjin shoves him to the side. He tries to open the door. "Damn, it's wedged shut!"

"What do we do?" Namjoon says, his voice shaky. He keeps glancing back at the zombies starting to close in on the group. "Shit, what do we do??"

"Oh, move aside!" Yoongi shrieks. He grabs the door handle with two hands, places a foothold on the wall next to the door and pulls. The door pops open. A wave of relief passes through his face. "Hurry!"

The zombies are closing in quickly. They're almost an arm's reach away.

Hoseok falls into the building first, carrying you to safety. Yoongi's next and then Seokjin, who clutches onto Yoongi's phone as if it's his lifeline (and not his frying pan). Jungkook manages to wack a few zombies away with the frying pan, but when one almost grabs his leg, he throws away his efforts and leaps into the building. Namjoon isn't so lucky. He's the last one trying to get in, but a monster grabs his arm, making him drop the baseball bat. Another grabs his leg. They begin to grasp onto his limbs with their withered, decaying hands. Namjoon tries to scream, but he must have remembered that the zombies are sound sensitive. The louder he is, the more he'll be ripped apart to pieces to share. But the tears brim around his eyes when he realizes he won't ever make it. There are too many to fight off... He looks away.

Hoseok's the one who has to close the door on him.

The next minutes that follow (that feel like hours) are the worst. Everyone can hear the tearing of flesh, the disastrous chomping of organs... It becomes too much. Everyone blocks their ears. Except you. You're forced to sit through it. Unable to react and too pained to really feel anything. The zombies try to hit their heads against the door, but they're too stupid to actually open it. And as quickly as they had come, they leave, figuring that one human out of what had originally been six was enough for now.

Again, the group is devastated. But everyone's too tired to cry.

Hoseok had let you down from his back and you're wearing Jungkook's sweater, but you're still whimpering, though you had no idea that sound was you in the beginning. You shiver when the others are sweating and red in the face. You can barely see ahead of you either.

"She's getting worse," Jungkook says, biting his lip.

"Great. Just great," Hoseok sighs. "No one here knows anything about medicine now."

"...Well, there's always Google," Yoongi says, looking unsure himself. "I mean, if the hospital has a good connection..." He trails off, unable to finish his sentence. "Anyways, I don't hear the zombies anymore. I think we should leave. I'll carry Y/N this time."

"We still have three more hours left," Seokjin says. "Yoongi's right. We should go before it gets too dark."

No one can argue with that.

Maybe the bad luck had run out—after killing off nearly half of the group, misfortune takes pity on the rest of you. Or maybe the ones who were left were careful enough; they've learned from the others' mistakes. Nothing particularly noteworthy happens from the journey out of the building to the hospital. It's a silent journey too. One where there's more silent communicating (with eyes and gestures) than words.

Your cheeks are wet from the sweat on Yoongi's neck, but they look more like the remnants of the tears that had never fallen from your eyes.

Three hours becomes two. Then one... And soon, zero.

The five of you stand in front of the hospital, a bit off to the side to observe the surroundings before even thinking of coming close.

Yoongi curses under his breath after he observes the scene. "There's no way we'll get in there unscathed."

He's right. There are zombies limping about the vicinity—all in medical scrubs and patient gowns. There's something coldly chilling about that sight. It doesn't settle right within anyone.

You're starting to slip past Yoongi's grip and he grunts quietly as he hoists you up again. "Any ideas?" he sighs.

"Yeah," Jungkook answers. "First off, I'll take Y/N." There's a silent switch before you're back on Jungkook's back again. "Second... um, no, I don't have any ideas."

"Just great," Hoseok sighs. "We came all the way here and..." he trails off, afraid to finish what he had started.

"What are we going to do?" Seokjin says. He looks between the group and the hoard of zombies. "We can't just... go back."

"That'd be even crazier," Yoongi scoffs. He wipes the sweat from his neck and pockets his phone. "We lost three friends today to come this far. Do you want to lose three more of us to get back?"

No one answers.

"We have to remain positive," Jungkook says. He bites his lip again, the skin beginning to tear as a result of his constant state of anxiousness. "For Y/N, at least."

"It's never going to work," Hoseok says bluntly.

Seokjin frowns. "Staying positive?"

"No, no," Hoseok sighs. "I mean, we're never going to be able to get inside the hospital... Unless... Well, unless..."

"Unless?" Yoongi questions, raising his eyebrows.

"Unless..." Hoseok is slow, thinking through and through before he speaks. "Unless I distract them," he finally concludes. "You guys can go in while I lead them the other way."

"No..." Jungkook breathes. "You can't do that."

"Hoseok..." Yoongi shakes his head.

"Buddy, it's not time to be a hero now," Seokjin adds to the looks of disapproval.

You have no idea what's going on—too far gone to tell, but the tone of their voices is enough for you to know that the group is sad. The sadness weighs you down too.

"It was nice knowing you guys, really," Hoseok says. He shrugs, but his hands shake in fear. Quickly, he hides them behind his back so no one sees. "But I think it's time that I did some of the dirty work around here."

No one's quick enough to stop him. Before anyone else can react, he runs. He runs toward the crowd of monsters. Immediately, Hoseok captures their attention, and they groan as they begin to follow him away.

The group waits, horrified, scared, worried.

Hoseok never looks back.

And soon, he disappears. Along with the zombies.

There isn't time to waste. Everyone runs toward the hospital, sure that there were no zombies around now. And once inside, you all collapse, nearly on top of each other too.

"Selfless bastard," Yoongi wheezes, tears running down his face.

"If Namjoon were alive, he would've said that was such an oxymoron," Jungkook scoffs, wiping his wet eyes with the back of his hand. "Always the intelligent fool."

"And then Jimin and Taehyung would've told him to shut up," Seokjin says, crying silently. "God, it's all too much to take in..."

Jungkook looks to you, wiping the sweat from your forehead with his sleeve. "It's okay... We're here... We're finally here. Everything went wrong, but we're here now. We're here..."

But it didn't matter whether the group 'was here' when no one knew what to do.

"We don't even know if it's safe to roam around about like this..." Seokjin says. He sighs deeply, looking between you and the empty, blood-splattered halls of the hospital.

"Here," Jungkook whispers, trying to lift the mood. He hands Seokjin his frying pan, to which Seokjin politely declines, shaking his head.

"You wield it better as a weapon than I ever could," he says, giving Jungkook a small smile. "Besides, Y/N's counting on you to help her."

You never ever wanted to become a burden like this.

Jungkook nods silently, taking the frying pan back in his hands and gripping it tightly.

"I-I.... haven't exactly been in a hospital in a while," Yoongi says. "And I especially have no idea how to treat a TSS patient..." He looks at you and bites the inside of his cheek in deep contemplation. "You know what? We'll take our chances. We'll go into a random room, find refuge—again—and look some stuff up... Maybe we'll... manage to get antibiotics? I don't know."

It's not exactly a solid plan, but it's better than staying collapsed on the floor and waiting for disaster to strike once more.

Yoongi stands up, brushing off his pants and stretching his back. "We'll go in that room." He points.

Jungkook helps you on his back again. He trails behind Yoongi and Seokjin, gripping the frying pan and looking from side to side for any threats. He sees none, thankfully.

"We'll go inside first," Seokjin says.

"Just in case...?" Jungkook says.

"Just in case," Yoongi answers.

"You sure you don't want your frying pan back?" Jungkook asks the talented chef one last time.

Seokjin shakes his head. "You might need it more than I do."

There are a million different arguments Jungkook can make, but he stays silent.

"Ready?" Yoongi whispers to Seokjin.

"R-Ready," he replies. They give each other a small smile before they turn the knob of the door.

Jungkook holds his breath when they step in. For seconds, it's silent, and it's peaceful. Jungkook closes his eyes in sheer happiness. Safety. It feels so attainable now.

Yoongi and Seokjin look around the room, small smiles spreading across their faces. Yoongi turns around. "Hey, I think it's saf—"

A zombie leaps out and gashes his neck before he can finish.

Jungkook screams silently, mouth wide open in horror.

The monsters had been hiding. Two more of them leap out, attacking Yoongi and Seokjin with decaying teeth and mangled limbs.

Jungkook begins to step away, still aware that the door was wide open. But he can't move any closer to shut it. Not with you on his back. It's too risky. Tears prickle his eyes.

Yoongi's the first one down. He stops moving and becomes a lump on the floor. Seokjin turns to face Jungkook, eyes wet and face bleeding. Before he falls dead to the ground, he manages to close the open door. Red blood splatters subsequently on the window. Like it was straight out of a horror film. The zombies in the room don't suspect another two beings outside in the hospital halls and they immediately quiet down.

The world spins for Jungkook.

Oh my god.

He can't stop repeating it in his head.

Oh my god. No other words. He couldn't express the pure trepidation and guilt in words anyway.

He doesn't even know if you're still conscious. He almost breaks down right then and there. The tears have blurred his vision significantly, and he can't even hear anything except the incessant ringing in his ears.

I'm... I'm the only one left.

The thought sends chills down Jungkook's spine.

But he's reminded of what he's here to do when you begin to stir lightly on his back.

God. You're still alive. And as long as he's alive, you're going to live. Jungkook squeezes your leg in reassurance (more to reassure himself than you, really) and grits his teeth. He's going to do this. He's going to get you to safety. He's going to stay strong.

He looks at the frying pan in his hands. Seokjin's frying pan.

He fights back the tears. He can't think of the others now. He needs to focus. He's going to do this.

He runs.

Silently.

Quickly.

His heels never touch the ground. Light on his feet, blending into the wind, Jungkook runs. He doesn't exactly know where—he wishes things will work out in the end. And he wishes you were conscious enough to form a plan. He always admired how you could craft one in a crisis. But now you're basically gone, unable to communicate with him. He's on his own.

Jungkook comes across a large cabinet with a lock on it. Possibly a medicine cabinet. Why else would it be locked?

Keeping you on his back, Jungkook fumbles with the lock, trying to figure out how to get it open. He comes up with an idea in two seconds. Maybe panic does help the gears in his brain. He slams the frying pan against the lock so hard that the shatter of it echoes throughout the hospital.

Fuck.

Of course that would've been loud. But no matter now. The lock had broken. Now he has to take whatever looks helpful and run.

He flings the cabinet doors open, hoisting you up on his back again because you'd started to slip off. He grips the frying pan with one hand and begins to shove pills bottles into his pockets. He would've gotten away with more when he hears a sickening groan.

Jungkook whirls around, immediately shielding you away from the danger. You whimper just a little bit. He wants to comfort you; he wants to hug you. But he can't.

It's a zombie.

Its eyes are empty, but Jungkook can tell it only wants one thing: death. It bids death on Jungkook and you. But Jungkook won't allow it.

The monster's sickeningly close to him, and it's trying to back Jungkook into the corner that the medicine cabinet is in. He'll be stuck if the monster takes another step closer. He reacts immediately, flinging the frying pan in the zombie's face. It lets out a deafening shriek—one that sends chills all over Jungkook's body. But he can't freeze. Not now.

With agile speed and what's left of his grace, Jungkook leaps over the zombie writhing on the floor. He feels sharp pain somewhere—he can't discern where. But it doesn't matter. He's too fixated on getting you to safety. Without anymore thinking, he runs.

He runs and runs and runs. Away from the zombie, away from the problems, away from all the deaths of his friends today. He runs away with you.

When he thinks he can't go any further, he slams himself into a room, hoping, wishing that there was nothing inside. His misfortune had run out. The room is empty, safe.

Nearly crying tears of joy, Jungkook lets you down carefully on the hospital bed and dumps the pill bottles out of his pocket and sets them next to you. Then just for a few seconds, he cries.

He cries out of relief, out of genuine sadness, out of fear, out of an overwhelming sense of gladness. He cries even harder when you slowly but surely move your warm hand to encompass his.

That's when he notices the blood.

That's when he notices he'd been bitten. It had bitten him. That had been the searing pain that he had felt earlier. Jungkook backs away from you, disgusted and horrified with himself.

The thoughts follow in chronological order.

He'll drop dead soon—he doesn't know when, but he does know he can't in front of you.

When he wakes, he'll be undead.

Then... then... he'll try to attack you—if... if you're still alive by then.

He can't allow it.

Jungkook knows he has to leave.

But... He looks at you. You're dipping in and out of consciousness.

"I have to go, Y/N..." He can't recognize his own voice. It's too shaky, too unsure and laced with too much anxiety to be his own.

You stir, eyes fluttering open. You plead silently for him to stay.

"I-I... I can't, Y/N. I want to but I can't."

"P-Please..." you whisper so quietly that Jungkook barely hears you.

"I'm sorry." Jungkook shakes his head, wiping the last of his tears with his unbitten hand. He hides the other away from view. "I can't stay with you, Y/N," he says more surely. "I have to leave."

Then, you say the most coherent thing you've spoken all day. "St-Stay with m-me... I-I'm... I'll d-die... anyway."

Carefully, Jungkook steps closer to you. So close your foreheads touch. He hugs you. And the action is interlaced with so much love, so much care and consideration that you can't protest when he begins to step away. It's too soon.

You wish you could've been in his arms for longer. You wish you could die in his arms.

But Jungkook knows... He knows that once you're in his arms for too long, he'll never be able to find the strength to let you go. And that'd be a disaster for everybody.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes again.

You don't want him to leave.

But Jungkook doesn't want you to see him turned. He doesn't want to be the one who turns you too. He can't stand being in the same room as you, knowing that he's become a threat. He has to leave.

It makes sense.

Both of you are going to die anyway.

You reach for him, but his back is turned to you. And without another look, Jungkook bites his lip before walking out of the room. He shuts the door behind him and begins to weep against it, sliding down to the floor in a weak, defeated lump.

"J-Jungkook—"

You reach for him again, tumbling out of the bed as a result. The bottles of pills clatter to the floor. You don't care. You drag yourself against the door with the last of your strength. The world spins with you. And you feel so weak...

Jungkook rests his head against the door. His hand begins to throb with excruciating pain. He doesn't want to wake up... He feels too weak to finish the thought.

You cry against the door, tears running down your face. Your hands try to reach the door handle, to open it, to reach Jungkook, but it physically hurts to do so. Everything hurts. The world is on fire.

Jungkook's world is just the same.

An uncomfortable flame is eating him from the inside. He wants the pain to end. He wants everything to end.

And it does.

Finally, finally, his wishes come true. He falls dead, head lolling to the side.

And you're long gone as well.

✽

You gasp awake.

You've awakened in hell.

Well, not exactly.

Your whole body feels as if it's on fire, but you're not in the hospital. You're not dirty nor are you bloody. You're in Yoongi's room, in bed.

But now the covers are on the ground because you'd had a fit in your dreams.

A dream.

A fucking fever dream.

That's what it had been.

Well, a nightmare, really.

A painful foreshadowing, maybe.

A vivid recollection of your worst fear.

Your head spins, and you fight the urge to throw up.

Outside the confines of Yoongi's room, you can hear the other men getting ready to leave. Your heart drops.

No.

You're not going to let them leave with you.

You refuse to become a burden, to become some sort of torch they pass along with great care, sacrificing their lives to keep you safe.

They'll all die because of you.

And you can't allow that.

Maybe if you run away—

Maybe they'll forget about you and no one will get hurt because of you.

You try to move, try to lift yourself on your feet, but it turns out to be a big mistake. You stumble, unable to balance yourself, and you fall off the bed, hitting the ground.

The thump! is loud enough for Jungkook and Namjoon to rush into the room.

"No! No! Go away! No!" you're shrieking, squeezing your eyes shut and gluing yourself to the floor, refusing to move.

They're taken aback.

"Y/N, Y/N..." Jungkook soothes you, dropping to his knees and trying to help you up to the bed again. After struggling for a bit, you let him carry you—when it becomes clear that he's not going to force you out of the room.

"You'll be fine," Jungkook whispers. He strokes your hair, holding your hands with tears brimming in his eyes. It reminds you too much of your dream. You want to look away, but you can't. "Y-You'll... Y/N, you'll be fine."

Jungkook and Namjoon exchange knowing, painful looks. Even in your barely conscious state, you suddenly understand.

You realize then that you'll die here. And the others have accepted it.

It hurts to think that they're giving up on you. But at the same time, you'd rather they give up than risk their lives to save you.

Jungkook continues to hold you in his arms, rocking you back and forth. "I'm sorry," he keeps repeating. "I'm so sorry, Y/N."

When Namjoon opens the door to the room, the others spill in. They tell you their parting words. But you can barely comprehend them. Relief floods through you, however. It makes you feel better that they're okay—that they're alive.

And soon, it's just you and Jungkook. Alone in the room. Just like your dream.

He won't stop apologizing. You manage to shake your head, attempting to give him a smile. It comes out forced. "No... I-It wasn't... It wasn't y-your f-fau...lt." You pause to take deep breaths. "Y-You..." you reach out to take Jungkook's other hand. It relieves you to see no blood. "You d-did... good."

The tears dribble down to the tip of his chin, and they fall down when he manages to smile back at you. "Y-You m-mean... You mean I did well."

You're half-crying, half-laughing, just like he is. Everything becomes less painful like this. It's better to go this way than to be separated by a door. It's better than what you had imagined.

"You did well, Y/N. You did so well," Jungkook repeats over and over again. He holds you in his arms tighter than ever.

You've always wanted to die in his arms.

You lose consciousness feeling safe and happy.

"You're never going to beat me," Jungkook snorts, swinging his baseball bat over his head.

You laugh, shoving the boy aside. "Watch me, then."

"Gladly."

It's baseball day. You and your seven other friends have gathered outside in the warm sunlight, ready to play ball as you and Jungkook had always hoped. Although it's a significantly modified (cough, simplified) version of baseball, it doesn't matter to you. There are no monsters, no blood, no death—just happiness.

Seokjin's polishing his frying pan off to the side, Jimin's wiping the dust off of his officer badge, Namjoon's studying from his binder, Taehyung's video-chatting with his dogs (don't ask), Hoseok's stirring up his best business plans and Yoongi's dozed off while standing.

It's perfect. A perfect world.

"I'll pitch," Jungkook tells you, tipping his baseball cap at you before giving you a handsome grin. "Careful, though. I'm not going easy on you."

You grin right back. "You don't have to. But if you want to keep your ego intact, I'll go easy on you."

"No need to," Jungkook laughs. "Just don't come crying to me when I beat your ass."

You snort. "I don't know, Jungkook, sounds a bit like you're dragging this on so you won't have to cry over an embarrassing loss."

"Oh, really? Okay, then. I'm going to pitch right now."

"Do it, then."

"I'm going to!"

He does, hurling the ball with all of his might but also with calculated precision.

The world around you blurs. All you can see is the ball hurtling towards you. And though you're not very imaginative, you envision the ball to be that sexist baseball coach you had years back; you envision the ball to be an ugly, aggressive zombie; you envision the ball to be death, unhappiness and regret.

You scream like a warrior going into battle when you hit the ball. The angle is just right, the strength is perfectly calculated. The ball flies up in the air—no doubt, a home run. You don't even have to run the bases to see that.

Jungkook's grinning—almost as if he expected you to make such a spectacular hit. He looks at you with adoration, with pride, with love. "That's my girl."

"I know! I'm amazing!" You grin too.

The world has never felt this perfect.

—part 1 | part 2

—masterlist

#ficswithluv #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts #ignis fatuus #the shorter and more depressing sister of part 1 #i hope yall don't come at me for this

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foursideharmony · 4 years

Text

The Cat, the Prince, and the Doorway to Imagination (Chapter 7)

Summary: The final confrontation with the wicked White Warlock!

Pairings: Platonic/familial LAMP/CALM, Platonic/familial DLAMPR

Content Warnings: More Remus being Remus. Violence and threats of violence. Someone slowly being covered in ice.

Word Count: 3,675

Read on AO3: here

“Huh,” Remus said, apparently lost for words (which was unusual in itself). “So now what?”

Janus blinked. “I'm not sure.”

“Which means you are sure, right?” Remus said with a great big wink.

Before Janus could explain for the umpteenth time that it wasn't that simple (and never had been), there came a loud growling sound from nearby, and something huge and brown came crashing out of the brush and charged them. Janus barely managed to dive out of the way of what he quickly realized was an entire bear. Remus, always a big believer in the principle that the best defense is a good offense, dodged it by leaping straight up, and used the momentum of his downward arc to add force to a massive swing of his morningstar. The blow knocked the beast off its feet, and it threw great arcs of snow into the air as it skidded to a stop.

“That was fun!” Remus declared, resting the weapon on his shoulder. “Hey, want me to skin it for you? A nice bearskin rug will keep you warm so you don't have to crawl under a rotting log to hibernate!”

Janus had no time to muse upon how accurately he had predicted Remus's behavior, because a motion at the corner of his eye told him that the bear was not totally out of play yet. It was made of far sterner stuff than the dwarf had been and had only been stunned by the blow, and was now shaking itself awake. But rather than lunging at them again, or even fleeing back into the trees, it hoisted itself into a sitting position, clutched at its head with its paws, and began to whimper.

“Oh, stop it!” Remus said petulantly. “You attacked us, remember? Roman calls me violent, but I would just like to point out that so far, 100% of the creatures from this winter wonderland of his have tried to kill us!”

Much to Janus's surprise (though perhaps it shouldn't have been), the bear pivoted on its rump and said: “I was only protecting Mr. Logan!”

Janus smiled...now this was a situation he could deal with. He stepped forward, made Remus silence himself just to be on the safe side, and said, “Why, we would never harm Logan! We're some of his closest friends, after all!”

Still rubbing its—his—head with one paw, the bear rolled around until it was standing on the other three. “Then sirs, you must be the help he sent for!”

“We are! We got his message! But alas, it seems we were too late to prevent this.” Janus gestured at the crystallized Logan.

“It's not your fault, sir,” said the bear. “I was supposed to protect him from the White Warlock. And now I've got to go back and tell the others what happened.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea. But first, why don't you tell...” Janus trailed off, realizing the Remus—still silenced—was jumping up and down behind him and frantically waving his free hand. He released him. “Yes, what is it?”

“I know what this is!” Remus said gleefully. “Roman's gone and recreated the first Narnia book!”

“I never realized you were...into that sort of thing.”

“Are you kidding? With all the descriptions of war and violence and disturbing religious subtext? Not to mention a happy ending where everyone dies! What's not to love?”

“Even after all these years, you still retain the capacity to surprise me, Remus. However, I doubt the same aspects are what holds appeal for your brother, so try not to get too excited.” Janus turned back to the bear. “As I was saying, I think it might be a good idea for you to tell us what happened here. Who did this to Logan?”

“The White Warlock, of course, sir!”

“A warlock instead of a witch?” said Remus. “That's a new one...Roman usually loves fighting witches. He has this one recurring antagonist, the Dra—”

“Yes, Remus, we are all aware of the Dragon Witch.”

“Begging your pardon, sirs, but I think this Roman of yours is the White Warlock. That's the name the others called him back at the Stone Table.”

Remus did a spit-take. He hadn't been drinking anything, of course, but it was hardly beyond his capabilities (or his inclination) to generate something within his mouth entirely for the purpose of spitting it out. It looked like used motor oil. “Roman made himself the bad guy? That's definitely a new one!” He was grinning, but it was a rather fixed grin, and his eyes darted around under a furrowed brow.

“You said you were going back to the others,” Janus said to the bear. “Take us with you.”

Virgil, for once, felt genuinely useful: He had volunteered for the first watch of the night. Hushwing the Owl had shown him a tree he could climb from which he could scan the entire western and southern approach to the hill. It was a clear night and the moon was pretty close to full, and its light turned the snow into a stark bluish canvas against which any sort of moving shadow was plainly visible. Thus, as the ten o'clock hour approached and a large shuffling shape emerged from the trees to the west, Virgil looked not directly at it but at the silhouette it cast on the ground. It was definitely a bear and definitely had riders, one of whom was wearing a bowler hat. Good enough, even with the odd distortion of light and shade that seemed to sit between the forms of the two humans. He made the hooting call Hushwing had taught him which meant “Friendly approaching” and clambered down from his perch in order to go glower at Janus.

The climb took longer than he would have liked in the dark, and by the time he got back to the crown of the hill, the party had already arrived and was being greeted and offered blankets and a bit of warmed-over stew. Stoutpaws had apparently collapsed and fallen asleep right there on the hilltop...as Virgil supposed he would, after an entire day of running. Janus (ugh) was being helped over to the rebuilt campfire. And Logan...

Someone lunged at Virgil. Flight won, as it usually did, and he skittered backward several steps, only to realize that it was Patton he was flinching away from, and Patton was crying. “Shit...sorry...startled...” he mumbled, opening his arms and letting the Moral Side fling himself into them. He was shaking with sobs. “Patton...what happened?”

“R-R-Roman d-did something awful t-to Logan!”

The cluster of Narnians seeing to the arriving group parted. At first, Virgil couldn't tell what he was looking it—the object was translucent and oddly shaped, and moonlight and torchlight played over its surface and through its interior in ways that prevented him from focusing on its edges...until a chance flicker brought the details into clarity.

His head swimming, his thoughts useless, Virgil slipped from Patton's arms and dropped to his knees. He couldn't stop staring at it.

At Logan, frozen in crystal.

A murder . He was looking at a murder.

“Hell of a thing, isn't it?” said a screeching voice behind him. It was the sort of thing that ordinarily would provoke an instant reaction in Virgil (and that voice in particular would give a huge boost to Fight), but he was just too stunned. “As soon as Janus warms up enough that he's not going to drop off into a snake-coma, we'll all sit down and work out what to do about it. I can't wait to tell all of you my idea!”

Something in Virgil's brain finally lurched into motion, but all he could manage was a half-hearted glare back over his shoulder and a mumbled “What are you doing here?”

“Well, la-dee-dah, Panic-Depressive, I didn't know Thomas's Creativity needed permission to visit the Imagination.”

Virgil decided—to the extent that he was capable of deciding anything in the moment—that he could only cope with one atrocity at a time. He brushed Remus off and turned back to Patton. “Are you okay?” Patton shook his head emphatically. “Yeah, okay, dumb question.” In a way, Virgil was grateful for Remus's presence, since severe annoyance was usually a pretty strong barrier between himself and panic. “Let's...just...gather around the fire, so we can get our discussion going the instant De—Janus is up to it.”

They did. Janus sat on a boulder less than a yard from the fire, gazing rather glassily at it. The Narnians had given him a dark woolen cloak, and he had been engaged in an unsettlingly animalistic ritual: alternately spreading the cloth wide like wings, catching heat from the flames, and then wrapping it around himself to absorb the warmth. He glanced up, more or less, as the others approached. “So I assume you've all been made aware of the depths of depravity to which our dear Roman has sunk in his quest for...whatever it is he's questing for these days.”

“Roman's not depraved!” Patton said in a tone that suggested he had expected the accusation. He took his own seat across from Janus. “He's just...I don't know what exactly is going on with him right now, but he's not depraved!”

“Patton...” Virgil said, choosing to remain standing for the time being, “...he turned Logan into stone. There's no way to sugar-coat that.”

“It could have been an accident!”

“Patton...”

“It could have! He made a point of sparing Muricata's tree! I can't square that with the idea of him doing that to one of us on purpose!”

“Pat, listen. This?” Virgil mimicked the Logan-statue's outflung arm. “Is a defensive posture.” He started pacing. “Which means he saw it coming. Which means Roman telegraphed that he was going to do it, which means it was on purpose.”

Patton's eyes started to well up again. “I just wish I knew why,” he said.

“We'll be sure to ask him when he comes here to kill the rest of us in the morning,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes. “Who knows? He might even answer. The more important question is what to do about it. Can we change Logan back?”

“Ooh! Ooh! Pick me! I have an idea!” said Remus, who had been watching the argument between Patton and Virgil with the glee of an obsessive tennis fan. “When he shows up tomorrow to kill us all, I sneak up behind him and clonk him on the head! Once he's knocked out, primary control of the Imagination will automatically pass to me! Then I can make this story go my way, and I guess you can hash out your issues with Roman afterward or whatever.”

There was dead silence for a moment. Then Janus shifted in his cloak. “Let's make that Plan...” He started counting silently on his fingers, and manifested a few more hands to get to the number he wanted. “X. Plan X.”

“Can we make it Plan Triple-X?” Remus said, waggling his eyebrows.

“If we reach that level of desperation, I'm sure we'll be happy to let you do just whatever you want,” said the Dishonest Side. “In the meantime...something less drastic first, perhaps?”

“Logan's original plan,” Virgil said cautiously, “was to let Roman catch sight of you, hoping that it would shock him out of this downward villainy spiral he's stuck in.”

Janus looked taken aback for a split second, almost like a micro-flinch. “Well...” he said after a beat, “...far be it from me to question the soundness of one of Logan's ideas...” He let the end of the sentence hang in the air like an icicle.

Remus lost interest in the conversation and began searching the area for things to put in the fire.

“If it makes you feel any better, Scales, I was against the whole thing,” said Virgil. “But you're here now, and it's not like we have any other ideas.”

“Well, as long as I have your vote of confidence I know we'll do just swimmingly.”

Remus dropped a pine cone on the fire and giggled as it ignited with a series of explosive pops.

“H-hey, guys,” Patton said with a slight quaver. “Stop sniping at each other. This isn't about you two. It's about...well, all of us, really.” He swallowed, and when he continued his voice was stronger, more authoritative. “It's about Roman, and because it's about him it's about our whole family. We have to cooperate. Now then, Janus, if you're skeptical of Logan's plan, why don't you tell us why so we can figure out something else?”

Janus did his very best impression of a deer in headlights for a moment. Then he recovered his composure, cleared his throat, and said “I may have been exaggerating. Am I correct in thinking that the idea is to show Roman his idea of a villain so he presumably stops trying to be one?”

“Something like that,” Virgil mumbled.

Emboldened, Remus stuck a twiggy branch in the fire until it lit up and waved it in the air like a pennant.

“That's hardly a kind view of me,” Janus continued, “but I've heard of worse stratagems. Might I suggest a few...refinements?”

“Guess we can't stop you.”

“Virgil, be nice! We'd love to get your input, Janus.”

“Thank you, Patton. Remus! Pay attention; this concerns you as well.”

Remus, who had been on the point of touching the burning branch to his own hair, tossed it aside and plunked down onto a log, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands cupping his face. “Fire away, Jay-jay!”

Janus took a medium-long look at the ensorceled Logan, and began.

Dawn came all too early and with it, the bellow of a war horn. Startled awake, the Sides lurched to pull on clothes and scrambled out of the hillside shelter to see what they were up against.

At their previous meeting, Roman had been accompanied by an entourage. This time...he had brought an army. Perhaps five thousand strong, they massed around the foot of the hill, blocking off any retreat except by air...and the presence of Dwarven archers among the ranks ensured that any creature attempting to escape via flight would fail as well. The good Narnians, outnumbered nearly two hundred to one, clustered at the crown of the hill, facing grimly outward and wondering when the charge would come. The Sides stayed near the middle of the group at first, protected and almost entirely screened from view.

Roman, almost too brilliant to look at in his snow-white suit and icy jewels, detached himself from his throng and marched up toward them. “Showtime,” Janus muttered.

“Yesterday,” the self-styled King of Narnia proclaimed, “we issued an ultimatum to this company here assembled. Now we return to hear your decision and respond to it. Do you or do you not swear fealty to the Crown of Narnia?”

The Narnians, per the plan, stood firm and did not speak.

“We asked for your reply!” Roman snarled. “Where are my fellows? Have they abandoned you?”

“No, we haven't!” Patton said. The Narnians stood aside to let him through, followed by Virgil...and Logan. “And we're not surrendering either! You've taken things way too far, Roman, and it is not okay!”

Roman said nothing, staring dumbfounded at Logan. “You seem surprised to see me in my current condition,” said the Logical Side. “Your enchantment wore off after what I have calculated to be two hours, forty-seven minutes, and eleven point three four seconds.”

“That's impossible!” Roman shouted. “The transformation is permanent until counteracted!”

“Perhaps your control over the Imagination is not as absolute as you have heretofore assumed. Patton believes...actually, I will allow him to explain. Patton?”

“It's because you're abandoning your calling, Roman! Thomas doesn't want a wicked Creativity! Hurting your own creations for the sake of a story is one thing, but hurting us? You're turning into something that Thomas would never allow to be in charge of his Imagination!”

“Yeah, and it's really throwing a wrench into my plans!” said Remus, suddenly springing out of the crowd to Roman's shock. “What are you doing , bro? You can't be the evil twin! Because then I have to be the good twin, and I can't go shaving my mustache now! I just got it the way I want it! I don't even know how to be good!”

“You—! What are you all playing at?” Roman said, backing away slightly. He leveled a scandalized finger at Remus. “Working with him ...this is exactly why...but never mind. You will surrender to me—all of you!—or none of these foolish creatures you have befriended will survive the day!”

“I know you don't mean that,” Patton said softly “You didn't even really kill the Dryad's tree yesterday. You want to be the hero, Roman. So be the hero . Take off that crown, put down the wand, and let's talk.”

Roman's face became pensive. He was considering...no, he was listening for something, and then he stepped forward again. “You'd like that, wouldn't you?” he said. The wand swished through the air. The other Sides shouted in alarm, but no one turned to stone. Patton, however, wobbled, his feet literally frozen to the ground in a thick coating of ice.

The ice began to creep up his legs.

“Surrender,” Roman hissed. “Swear fealty to your King. Or watch him freeze.”

“Guys...” Virgil said.

Someone began to clap slowly, but the claps were muffled as if by gloves. Which was exactly the case. “Oh, bra-vo, Roman,” said Janus, dropping the Logan illusion. “You're finally doing for yourself. Using your power to take what you want. I couldn't be prouder.”

“You!” Roman gawked, even more appalled than he had been at Remus's presence. Then his face split in a grin of triumph. “Ha! I knew my enchantment hadn't worn off! Now will you yield to me, or stand by while Patton suffers a similar fate?”

“Yes!” Janus said with the merest hint of a hiss. “That's just the way! Show them all what you are capable of when slighted!”

“Shut up!” Roman said, and for the first time, his rapidly twitching expressions lighted on uncertainty . “Your input is not welcome here!”

“Clearly not; why I daresay you've supplanted me and Remus both with your villainy.”

“I said shut up!”

“Roman...” said Patton as the ice slithered up toward his hips, “...why are you doing this?”

“BECAUSE SOMEONE HAS TO!” Roman wailed. “Because you and Thomas lost all perspective...you invited him to the table...and all I wanted was a simple adventure where I knew who the bad guy was...and then it turned out to be me ! Even the Imagination started pushing me out of the hero role!”

“Pushing you!” Patton repeated. “So you don't want this!”

“And now you're even working with Remus! You'd rather have him on your side than...than...”

Remus made a loud scoffing noise. “Dream on, bro! For your information, I invited myself! They wouldn't have let me stick around if you weren't acting worse than me! Think about that , why don't you!”

“Roman, darling,” said Janus, approaching slowly with his hands up in a gesture of appeasement, “what makes you think anyone has to be the villain?”

“Every story needs a bad guy,” Roman insisted, backing away.

“That's not true,” said Patton, a mite breathlessly as the ice began to squeeze his chest. “What about all those stories where the conflict comes from misunderstanding? I think that's what's happening here. You're not understanding us or we're not understanding you or both.”

“Look, man, I get it,” Virgil offered, though his calm tone was belied by the constant reverberation of the Tempest Tongue. “I know what it feels like to think you have to be the bad guy. This is me, right? But we got over that, and we can get through this too. Take the enchantments off Patton and Logan and let's all figure it out together. You said yourself stories in the Imagination can take on a life of their own. That doesn't mean they're always telling the truth.”

“But, you know,” said Janus, examining his fingertips. “Your choice, Your Majesty.”

Roman looked from Virgil, to Patton (iced up to his neck) to Remus and Janus, to the whole of Narnia around them. His face twisted up into a terrifying snarl and he stalked forward once again. He raised his wand. Virgil put himself between Roman and Patton (not that there was much more that could be done to the Moral Side), but when he was only feet away from them, Roman suddenly flung his crown to the ground with a shrieking sob and brought the wand down on it. And in an instant, the wand was his sword (and always had been, they realized) and the blade struck the large diamond, shattering it into a thousand shards of ice.

Golden mist rose out of the splintered gem, coiling and flowing, and washed over Roman from his feet up. As it went, it dragged a second mist, bluish-silver, out of him as if plucking hairs by the roots. Roman cried out in pain as the power of the White Witch was scrubbed out of him by the power of Aslan. Both mists spun around each other until they reached a height of several yards, at which point there was a soft explosion and they rocketed away from each other. The Witch's power soared off in a northerly direction, while the Lion's made an arc and landed in the woods nearby.

The ice covering Patton fractured away, and he sagged in relief. “Roman...?” he said.

The Prince turned a plaintive look on him before collapsing to the snow.

#sanders sides #fanfiction #lamp/calm #platonic lamp/calm #dlampr #platonic dlampr #narnia #sympathetic janus #sympathetic remus #villainous roman

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juststrugglingwithstress · 4 years

Text

How to Write Believable ADHD

INTRO

so obvi rick riordan is the master, he did ADHD correctly, but i see a lot of people writing ADHD in the way that portreys it as “SQUIRREL SQUIRREL WAS THAT A SQUIRREL???? MUST MOVE MUST MOVE MUST MOVE FHDAFHEIAIEA”

this is both HORRIBLY wrong and offensive.

ADHD is not what you think it is. ADD is not the same as ADHD. there’s a lot of parts of ADHD/ADD that nobody ever talks about. in this post i’m going to talk about ADHD using:

things i know about ADHD/ADD

my experience as an adolescent with ADD

my experience as the sister of an adolescent with strong ADHD

my experience as the daughter of an adult with ADHD

i hope this will be helpful with writing believable, non-offensive ADHD and ADD characters.

WHAT IS ADHD?

ADHD is an executive dysfunction. ADHD is divided into four different types:

Inattentive

Hyperactive

Impulsive

Combination (two or all of the above)

ADHD VS. ADD

ADHD: Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder

ADD: Attention Deficit Disorder

ADD is a type of ADHD. As you may have guessed, is a term used when a person diagnosed with ADHD doesn’t show signs of hyperactivity.

Remember: ADD can be called ADHD, but ADHD cannot be called ADD.

They are different things, but since ADHD is more well-known, people with ADD might say they are ADHD instead to avoid having to give an explanation as to what ADD is. Unless you want to continuously have your ADD character explain what it means (or have every other character automatically know what it means, which is unrealistic) you will probably have them say they’re ADHD.

ADHD SYMPTOMS

Inattentive: getting distracted easily, having poor concentration and organization skills

Impulsive: interrupting, taking risks, poor impulse control

Hyperactive: difficulties staying on task, talking and fidgeting, never seeming to slow down

People experience these symptoms in different ways. People who were born with male chromosomes will often exhibit the more hyperactive side, while people born with female chromosomes will be more quietly inattentive.

Symptoms must effect your day-to-day life in order to actually mean ADHD! Getting distracted unusually easily once in a while doesn’t mean ADHD.

ADHD THINGS THAT AREN’T MEDICALLY SPOKEN OF

These are really just more specific things that usually come along with ADHD or ADD. (Not everybody has all--or even any--of these!)

Forgetting words

“what’s the word??? you know, like,,,, medium but sad. if something medium-sized was depressed. its,,,,, SMALL, THE WORD IS SMALL”

“i hate,,,, i HATE,,,,, what is it, it’s like racism but genders,,,,,, you know, pink & blue toys???? its--it’s---- PATRIARCHY, I HATE THE PATRIARCHY”

“what is it wHAT IS IT IT’S,,, AH FUCK,,,,, LIKE THE WORD IS ALSO BUT I---OH THE WORD IS BUT”

“i f o r g o t w h a t t o c a l l j o a n n e” “isn’t joanne,,, your mother?” “oh my god yes thats the word mother”

Procrastination

ugh, procrastination SUCKS. the kind of procrastination that comes with ADHD/ADD is like:

“i have to do this ihavetodothisihavetodothisihavetodothis” running through your head while you continue to NOT do the thing. You want to, absolutely you do, but for some reason you just can’t make yourself do it.

Night Owl, But Not Really

A lot of people with ADHD experience a kind of thing where during the day, they’re slowly waking up and “loading” their brain. Then, at night, they are FULLY READY FOR THE DAY and now cannot go to sleep, resulting in a continuation of the cycle.

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Literally. If you cannot see it, it is not there. This results in:

Losing things. CONSTANTLY.

If it ends up in the back of the fridge, it’s going to rot (unless somebody cleans out the fridge before that).

Clothes at the bottom of the drawer/back of the closet will never be worn.

If there is a pile of papers, any paper that is not (and is not directly-four papers below) the top one is gone forever.

Closed box? Say goodbye to whatever was in it.

Homework in a folder? Oof, hope that wasn’t too much of your grade.

REJECTION SYNDROME

Rejection syndrome is most prominent in women with ADHD/ADD. I’m not sure how to accurately explain rejection syndrome without showing examples, so:

Somebody glances at you (however briefly), and you immediately think they’re judging you/being mean to you.

Two people are whispering, and you immediately assume they are saying mean things about you.

basically, rejection syndrome is a forever-heightened feeling that the people around you hate or dislike you.

that’s all for now! i hope this was helpful. if you have any questions about this or would like me to write a meta about something else, my asks are always open. i also recommend the blog @adhdbri if you’d like to see more of a “day-to-day life” example of ADHD. thanks for reading! bye!

#writing #writing tips #how to write #how to write a character with ADHD #how to write a character with ADD #how to #write #meta #metas #my meta #my metas #adhd #add #adhd is not what you think it is #adhdbri #about adhd #about add #what is adhd #what is add

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vixenpen · 4 years

Text

Caged Hearts

Chap 26. Captured (we almost at the end omg)

((Hawks x Miku ((OC))

OK so I realize that a lot of you guys are missing parts of this fic and that’s because I have ADD and I ended up losing my count a couple of times and I’m pretty sure that I numbered the chapters wrong so I’ve been trying to go through and correctly number the chapters and link off to the next chapter in each previous part. So bear with me because that is a lot for my ADD brain to handle. But OMG GUYS WE ARE ALMOST AT THE END!!!

(Trigger warnings: restraints, non con touching, r*pe implications)

The surrounding forest was burning. The only reason the fire was contained as much as it was, was thanks to the abundance of water quirk users on the heroes side.

They kept the fire wielders at bay which allowed Keigo the room to slice and fly through the chaos and into the old temple.

Compared to the chaos in the surrounding forest, the inside of the rotting old temple was eerily still and quiet. It was massive with sagging tatami flooring and battery powered lamps. But at the center of it all was Dabi.

He stood cross armed in the middle of the messy temple.

“Hey hero. How’s that scar?”

“Ugly and annoying, but mostly forgettable after the ointment. Just like you.”

Dabi’s smirk widened.

“You’re as pleasant as ever, Hawks.”

At the sound of his hero name coming from Dabi’s mouth, Keigo’s lips twitched down and he softened his grip on his feather blade slightly.

“I wouldn’t let my guard down if I were you.”

“Oh trust me, I’m not. Unlike you, I don’t do half baked schemes. So what exactly was the plan, Dabs?” Keigo asked, drawing closer to his villainous ex. “You revive the nomu project and try to pick up where smarter more capable villains than you like Shigaraki and Stain left off?”

A deep scowl replaced Dabi’s smirk.

“I have more vision than both of them, asshole. Just because I don’t have half the resources they had—“

“Half?” Keigo let out an incredulous laugh. “Dabi, you don’t even have a quarter teaspoon of the resources or the vision that they had. You’ve been running around causing chaos with these under powered lackeys of yours while prancing around like the queen of England Letting everyone else do your dirty work. You’re a nuisance at best and a busy day at worse, but you are no Shigaraki and certainly no Stain.”

“Fuck you talk to much,” Dabi growled, his face was pinched in anger. “If you’re gonna do something then do it, hero.”

Keigo smirked. “Why don’t you make me Dabi? I’ll even give you a head start.”

Dabi planted his feet, but hesitated to do anything.

Keigo scoffed. In a blur of red, Keigo had the man pinned to the floor with his arms twisted behind his back.

“So that copycat quirk of yours can’t duplicate other people’s quirks, huh, Chiba Chidori?”

“You’re good.” Chiba chuckled as he struggled in Keigo’s grip.

“You’re obvious. Just like your leader.” Keigo shot back. “Now where’s Dabi?”

Chiba still in his Dabi disguise tilted his head against the dirty tatami flooring to face Keigo.

“Wherever your little girlfriend is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cold metal cuffs kept Miku’s arms suspended above her.

Despite the heaviness in her head, her mind was still spinning. She blinked against the colored spots in her black vision until slowly, it sharpened.

The room was cold and dimly lit. Nothing but a dirty lightbulb swinging from the ceiling to illuminate a concrete floor.

The exposed skin of her arms and legs were pressed to a frigid stone wall. She couldn’t even attempt to move her wings.

Anxiety and dread swallowed Miku whole. Her legs felt gelatinous.

She clenched and unclenched her fingers as she forced herself to breathe deeply through her nose. More details about the room swam into her vision.

There was a cell that she thankfully wasn’t inside of and a set of concrete stairs with a heavy looking metal door at the end of them.

Fuck! Fuck, fuck!

Miku glanced up at her wrists and blinked back the tears stinging the corners of her eyes. She rattled the chains futilely.

Just then, the metal door swung open with a loud bang. Dabi’s tall, slender silhouette stood in the spill of light pouring into the room.

“Ah. So Sleeping beauty’s finally awake, is she?” He drawled, slowly descending the stairs.

“What do you want?” Miku hissed back at him, tugging against her restraints.

Dabi didn’t reply as he advanced on Miku slowly until his chest was pressed against hers. She could smell the stench of tobacco on him, and turned away in disgust.

“Relax, Angel Face,” Dabi chuckled, snatching her chin until she was facing him again, “this’ll be a lot easier for you if you do.”

Then he dropped to his knees before her.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Gotta Pat you down, Hummingbird,” Dabi explained with a lazy smirk up at her. “I’m sure your man is trying to keep tabs on you. Just a matter of finding the feather.”

His hands were warm causing goosebumps to rise on her skin as they trailed up her calves and between her thighs. Dabi stopped his touch just as his index finger brushed across the slit of her sex.

He repeated the action along her other leg letting his hands linger on her thighs and heating them slowly.

“Stop.” Miku whimpered.

His laugh was taunting as His hands worked the short dress up Miku’s thick hips.

“Not done yet, sweetheart.” His smile widened. “Ooh I see those pretty wings of yours flexing. Too bad, baby, those are quirk repressing cuffs.” He bit his lip as he eyed the trail of trimmed white pubic hair before him.

Standing to his feet, the man snatched the top of her dress down.

“Nothing here, either hm?” He squeezed her big breasts harshly.

A choked yelp escaped Miku’s mouth.

“Damn, Angel Face,” Dabi grinned, it was sinister and probing, and somehow felt even more invasive than his wandering hands. “Maybe I should do a cavity search. Hm? Gotta say, I like feisty types like you. So much more fun to break.”

She could only respond with Shallow, shaky breaths.

She couldn’t move.

She couldn’t fight.

She couldn’t fly!

Just as she felt her fluttering heart about to give out on her, the anklet she wore broke. He heart shaped charm attached, clattered to the floor as large shadowy tendrils manifested from it.

Miku blinked, dazed as she watched the pair of smoky, phantom like limbs snatch Dabi’s lanky body up like a rag doll.

The ghostly hands wrapped around his body easily and slammed him into the stone wall, just beside Miku. The woman shrieked as the impact of his head colliding into the wall echoed in the dank room.

Dabi slid to the floor unconscious and crumpled at her feet.

“Boss!”

She looked up at the stairs not recognizing the dark haired teen in the doorway. He looked like a mini Dabi with his piercings and black mop of hair.

His dark eyes widened at the sight of his boss and the shadow hands.

“What the—“

The large tendrils snatched him up too. In a fast, fluid motion, they knocked the teen unconscious as well.

And just as quickly as they appeared, they disappeared.

It took Miku a moment to process what had just happened. Konan’s protection charm. It had bought her some time.

Her captors were now sprawled unconscious at her feet, and a set of keys were attached to Dabi’s belt.

Miku was running blind through the halls of what she now realized was a lab of some sort. Fluorescent lighting lit up the cold, sterile floors. Medical rooms filled with machines, devices, and tanks could be seen through the glass panels.

She had no idea how long Dabi and his sidekick would be knocked out nor how long that locked metal door would hold them, but she wanted to put as much space between herself and them as possible.

As she ran through the labyrinth like halls, she pulled off her remaining shoe—the other had been ditched in the basement with Dabi—and pulled out the now sticky and ruffled red feather. She ran her fingers along the barbs and held it up to her lips.

“Keigo,” she huffed rounding the corners of the hallways, “Kei, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I really need you right now. Dabi’s got me at some...fucking...fuck.” She looked around the long halls and maze of locked metal doors, in a panic. “Underground lab or...I don’t know. I...just—Please, please come quick.”

With that final plea, she snapped the feather in two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The distressed vibrations of Miku’s voice hummed through Keigo’s feathers. There was over 500 miles between them, but he could parse out the unique cadence of her voice easily.

Konan’s voice crackled through his headphones, her voice just barely cutting through the whistling wind.

“Keigo!” The Latina’s voice exclaimed.

“I’m here, Ko,” he pressed the headphone harder against his ear, trying to hear her better. “You got a read on Miku?”

“When her charm broke my signal showed that she’s at some location underground. On the far outskirts of Tokyo.”

Konan rattled off the coordinates, but Keigo didn’t recognize the location. Regardless, he pushed himself to fly harder.

“I should be there is less than fifteen minutes,” Konan explained, “you?”

“If I book it any harder maybe twenty or less. Ko, do everything to keep her safe.”

“No doubt. Over and out.”

The line went dead. Keigo couldn’t breathe.

The entire world blurred before his eyes.

This was his fault. Miku shouldn’t be in this situation.

His mistakes. His fuck ups. His negligence.

It was going to get someone he loved—

Fuck!

His speed tripled.

He was going to kill that son of a bitch. Fuck Tartarus. Fuck detaining. Fuck his years of training. Todoroki Touya was going to die today.

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0itmelex0 · 3 years

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…in secrecy. + Lorenzo and Alina for the kiss prompts?

this is just.... i love them sm. au!lorenzo adrik and alina are major brain rot rn hfjksd

this takes place the night before the final battle in r&r

It was quiet, the ruckus that the Grisha and the Sodat Sol had been making diminished. Everybody found their place for the night, for their last sleep before everything would change. Either the Fold would be destroyed and the Darkling would meet his demise, or the very ground Adrik sat on would become part of the Fold as well. He didn't want the latter, but the doubts about taking down an ancient and powerful being crept into his mind.

He was the lone Heartrender amongst the handful of Grisha. He couldn't mess up tomorrow if it came down to it. Yet the idea of ceasing the hearts, when given the order, of so many people he grew up with didn't sit right, even if he couldn't care for them before all of it. They've chosen their fate when they sided with a man who keeps children as prisoners.

The scar on his left arm itched. It burned for his attention. His fingers followed the pattern repeatedly. He could have been one of them, one of the Grisha that sided with a man who kept children as prisoners. If his loyalty to the Darkling had been blind enough. Nearly it was. Maybe, regardless of who he would have picked to side with back on the skiff all that time ago, he would die in the ending battle. Once the Darkling knew Adrik was there, he’d stop the Heartrender without hesitation. The Darkling knew better than anybody what he was capable of. If Adrik had sided with the Darkling, his own arrogance would have undoubtedly caused his downfall.

“Figured you’d still be out here.” Alina stood in the barn's entrance, her white hair glowing from the moonlight.

“Thought I got away with nobody noticing,” he sighed and sat up against a pillar as Alina made her way over to him after she closed the door behind her.

“Well, you seemed to underestimate me with how observant I am, Adri.” She plopped down in front of him and sat a small bag down in between them. “I know you didn’t eat.” Alina pulled an apple out from the bag and placed it in his hand before pulling out another apple, then eating it herself.

“Apparently so, Sunshine.” A small smile fell on his lips. “Thank you.”

“So, why’d you sneak all the way out here and not stay inside with the others?”

“I can’t sleep and I’d rather not be an annoyance to those who are.” He lazily shrugged and took a small bite out of the apple. It still had a faint sourness to it, but his empty stomach didn’t mind.

“Looks like we’re in the same boat then.” Alina tossed aside the apple core, then grabbed another one from the bag.

“How wonderful. Two of the most important people for this battle tomorrow that need to be rested can’t sleep.” He took another bite. “It’s kind of funny, actually.”

“Little bit.” Her nose scrunched, the corner of her eyes wrinkling up.

That laughter of hers was intoxicating. If he could keep it for the battle to help him through it, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He’d never have enough of it, and he couldn’t help but laugh too. Adrik knew her smile was just as lovely despite being unable to see it in the dark barn with minimal moonlight leaking through.

“For a scary and mean Heartrender, you have an adorable laugh,” Alina admitted.

He lightly smacked her leg. “Can’t be saying that. I have a reputation to uphold, Sunshine.”

She finished the second apple and held her hands up defensively. “Oh, so sorry, scary and mean Heartrender. But what are you gonna do? Stop my heart?” She giggled.

“No, couldn’t bring myself to do that.” Adrik took another bite. The apple spun as he rolled the stem in between his fingers. “I’d never hurt you, Sunshine. Not if I could help it.”

Alina’s heart picked up. Her hands laid back in her lap, then a small ball of sunlight appeared between the two of them. It was just bright enough so they could see one another.

“Hold your hands out,” she whispered. Her white hair glowed yellow.

He raised a brow. “Why?”

“Just do it, Adri.”

“Okay, okay.” With his elbows resting on his legs, he extended out his hands, palms exposed. “What're you going to do?”

“Stop being impatient, and just sit there. Cup your hands too.” Alina gently kicked his shin. The ball of sunlight grew brighter, then broke into two separate spheres. With a gentle flick of her wrist, she moved one sphere to hover over his cupped hands. “Now it looks like we’re both doing it.”

“If only both of us could.” Adrik let one hand run on the outer edge of the sphere until it reached the top. His fingers lowered and wiggled in the middle of the sunlight. Alina’s tilted head made the corners of his lips pull up. “Just so you wouldn’t be alone.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I, uh, I just know I never really liked being alone growing up, even if I was most of the time.” His hand returned, cupped underneath the sphere of light, before looking into it. “Wouldn’t want you to feel the same.”

“Well, then, I want you to know that I never felt alone with you. . . even when you were at your worst.” She hunched over, the golden white strands falling over her face.

“At least I did something right.” Adrik pulled away the curtain of hair that covered Alina’s face, then tucked it behind her ear. She was holding back laughter. His hand lingered by the side of her face.

The spheres of light flickered for a moment as her heart picked up again. Her cheeks became rosy, and she looked back at Adrik in the eye. Then, down briefly at his faintly upturned lips.

He swallowed thickly, then leaned closer. Her heart got faster, and the spheres flickered more. She deserves better. Adrik returned his hand to under the sphere and leaned back against the pillar again. “Sorry,” he mumbled, looking back into the sphere of light in his hands.

Alina scooched to where their knees touched. “Close your eyes.”

“What are you going to do, Sunshine?” He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip, keeping his focus on the light.

“Another thing I think you’ll like. Please, Adri.”

“Alina.” Her heart skipped a beat when he muttered her name. The spheres of light disappeared. He looked up in the darkness where her face was. “Alright, they’re closed.” He shut his eyes.

A dim light returned, but Adrik kept his eyes closed. He felt her shift, but they were subtle movements. Was it Alina having a mess of a heartbeat, or was it him? He couldn’t tell in the silence.

“Open them.” She sounded much closer than before.

Adrik didn’t have time to fully open his eyes before feeling her lips on his. His eyes were wide and mouth ajar when she pulled away. “Oh.” A smile grew on his flushed face.

“Just in case tomorrow. . .” Her eyes yearned as she couldn’t look away. “I want you to know.”

He nodded, then his hand cupped around her cheek. His breath became shaky as he pressed his forehead against hers. “Yeah.”

Her lips tasted sweet in that moment of her lips against his. He craved it now.

Alina nearly fell backwards with the force of his lips pressing against hers. The sphere of light she had made around them was gone. Despite the passion and force, he was gentle. The holding of her face, the kiss itself. He did it with care. Her fingers entangled themselves in his mess of hair.

He deepened the kiss. For once, since he had met Alina Starkov, he was so sure of himself. He was so sure that this was the right thing. Just for a moment, it didn’t feel like they were going to march off to their potential demise. It felt like they were the only things that mattered with their bodies pressed against one another as they slowly pulled off each other's articles of clothing. With everything around them being encompassed in the darkness, she was the sunshine he needed. The only sunshine he’d ever need.

#0itmelex0: answered #0itmelex0: my writing #grishaverse ocs #oc: lorenzo willingham #lorenzo: writing #ship: au!lorenzoxalina #i seriously self indulged for this oml #but i adore these two so it's fine dfhjksd

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