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everlastingdreams · 1 year ago

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The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 16

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Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: Chosen

Notes:

Warnings: Grief. Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +190K

Chapter: 16/ It’s a secret.

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You had spend the day practicing to walk again, Squirrel and Lancelot took turns helping. Your leg felt better, but the fever had taken a toll on your body and you had to stop multiple times.

Lancelot was helping you walk the short distance up and down the hall, not confident enough to let you try the stairwell until you felt a bit physically stronger.

“I need to get better. We shouldn’t be staying here for much longer, there are too many people looking for us.” You said while taking the turn at the end of the hall to walk down it again.

He was using his body to balance you next to him. “I strongly discourage leaving tomorrow. Let us wait until the day after, when we are certain that the medicine has done it’s task.”

You were concerned about the consequences it could bring. “I just don’t want to end up in a dungeon again.”

He wanted to know where the fear truly lies, “Are you worried Soran will find you? Or that the Trinity Guard is on our tail?”

Both were threats, one was worse than the other. “Soran has a worse reputation among the Dawn Folk than the Trinity Guard and Red Paladins ever had. Only one other was claimed to be as bad.”

Lancelot risked asking, “Am I the other?”

You looked at him apologetically. “You were. I’m sorry.”

Past tense?

“I understand.” He could not blame you for it.

You almost tripped over a damaged floorboard and he stopped with you until you were ready to continue.

You started walking again. “Hutch and Ives were part of the Reapers’ Brotherhood. I think they never told him that they had found me, I would not have been there for so long if they had.”

It made him question Soran’s motives, “What does he want with you? He would have traded your family to have you.”

You refused to believe that the Reaper was hunting you for the same reason you had left home. “There is only four of the Dawn Folk left. And Soran has been known to have taken and caused the deaths of many of them. I am just one of the many.”

He could tell that there was a reason you were always vague about your past. There was something you weren’t telling him.

Lancelot stopped with you in the middle of the hallway, “Is there something I should know? Something you are not telling me?”

The intensity in his eyes caused you to reply sharply, “No.”

You were lying. And he greatly disliked it.

You looked away when he kept looking you in the eyes, “How did you afford the medicine? Did you take the coins from my satchel that I got off that lord?”

His voice was monotone. “I killed the merchant and threw his body in the lake.”

Shock washed over your face and you pulled yourself away from him, “YOU WHAT?!”

The slight smirk on his face betrayed him. “I traded a dagger for it.”

You couldn’t believe he had you fooled. “You’re unbelievable!”

The Monk tried to take hold of your arm again but you refused to let him help you after that.

“What if you fall?” He walked behind you.

You used the wall for support as you stumbled through the hallway with only your anger as fuel. “I’d rather have the floor touching me than you.”

Even when you heard him chuckle, you refused to look at him.

Squirrel came up the stairs and saw you walk alone, he hurried over to you and quickly supported your side, then he scolded Lancelot, “Why aren’t you helping her?!”

The smirk was wiped off of Lancelot’s face right away. “She refused my help.”

The snippy boy then said, “I’ll do it then. You go and find us something to eat.”

He looked down at the overprotective young Fey knight. “We have cheese.”

Squirrel was quite blunt about it, “We’ve had cheese for days now. Find something else. Use your nose.”

You reeled the boy in before it got worse, “Squirrel.”

The boy looked at you, then back at him, “Please?”

Lancelot’s smirk returned. “Very well. I shall see what I can find.”

You watched him walk down the stairs and Squirrel helped you back to the room to rest.

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The Monk had found some edible berries that fit well together with the cheese, and the apples he found were a blessing.

After the three of you had eaten, he had went to the lower floor to see to the horses.

It was already dark and Squirrel had fallen asleep next to you on the bed, you didn’t want the boy to sleep on the ground again.

The Monk had been downstairs for quite a long time and you considered it possible that he might not feel like coming to the room.

You knew that he was aware that you had lied to him about hiding something.

You got out of the bed, careful not to wake Squirrel as you did.

With a fair amount of effort, you got down the stairwell on your own.

Getting through the hall that led to the church-like building was another challenge.

It was there that you found him, he was sitting on one of the pews right before the alter.

He was praying…

You knew he had not seen you yet and you wanted to leave.

Lancelot did not turn around, but stopped praying. “I know you’re there.”

Dammit…

You went into the building and walked over to him, “What are you praying for?”

“That is quite a personal question.” He remarked, then turned his head to face you. “I pray for guidance.”

You went to sit next to him, “Not forgiveness?”

He sat with his elbows on his knees, his hands folded together. “Praying for forgiveness while continuing the sin is futile.”

“Why pray to a god who will not listen?” It was a genuine question.

He asked you a similar one, “Why pray to gods who hurt you when you do not do their bidding?”

“Faith?” You guessed.

He nodded. “Or habit. It is either praying to a divine power, or our minds arguing with ourselves.”

Well… he had a valid point there.

A soft laugh escaped you. “I guess we just all want someone to listen to us sometimes.”

He enjoyed the sound of that and opened up more, “I do not know why I pray to God anymore, I reach out and there was only ever darkness.”

The small smile on your face went away, “You have always struggled with serving the Church, haven’t you?”

There was not a day when he had not questioned his faith, “I have.”

A silence fell between you, and then you placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze before letting go again.

“I think you and I need to talk.” You said

Why did hearing that, frighten him?

It was irrational, this could be about anything.

You did not leave him in suspense, “I am not sure what to think of the situation we find ourselves in. Please, do not be upset, it’s just… I never thought I would be out here fleeing those hunting us with the Weeping Monk.”

He was glad to hear that you wanted to explain how you were experiencing this. “I understand your reluctance to trust me. I did not think I would one day be out here with a Fey woman and child either.”

A small smile crept on your face again, “It’s strange, isn’t it?”

It came out like he hoped you agreed with it, “Under the circumstances, I would say we are doing well?”

“We are.” You agreed on that. “Listen, I know I am not a person who trusts others easily. But I am trying. And considering you could have just left me to die in this place instead of going through all that hassle, I owe it to you to try.”

He shook his head a little. “You owe me nothing.”

You weren’t going to start a debate over this and nudged his shoulder with your own. “Well, then I’ll just do it out of the goodness of my heart.”

He saw a chance to find out more about you now that you were in a good mood, “Can you find it in your heart to tell me the truth?”

You had hoped that he would have forgotten about you lying to him. “I meant what I said, I believe the Reaper just wants me because I am Dawn Folk.”

He was waiting for you to say more and it pushed you over the line to the truth.

“The Hidden chose me as a summoner.” You quietly confessed.

The term was not familiar to him, “Summoner?”

You explained it to him. “A summoner is a Fey chosen by the Hidden. Some Fey are more attuned to the Hidden than others and only a few can hear them. It’s why I was so surprised to learn that you can hear them too.”

“I have always tried to ignore them.” He said.

That couldn’t have been easy with how strong their pull could be.

You envied how he had been more successful. “Once they choose their summoners, they can be very persistent, as you have seen. If I had accepted their offer, I would have been able to call upon them without it draining my energy so much.”

He sat upright more, “You refused the offer?”

You nodded. “With my abilities, I fear what I would become if I was given such power. No one person should have so much power, it poisons the heart and mind.”

He made the observation, “You do not trust the Hidden?”

Trust was not easy for you, but it was not the fault of the old gods that you feared the power they had offered. “I do not trust a power I do not understand. Everything comes at a price.”

He was puzzling it together, “Your family disagreed?”

Your gaze fell to your feet. “I disappointed them. They wanted me to become a summoner, to hide while others were slaughtered. I am Dawn Folk, I won’t hide while I could be saving them.”

Finally he understood. “That was why you left.”

You nodded, feeling yourself grow quiet. “Yes. If I left, I was told not to come back.”

Lancelot and you were quiet for a moment.

He could sense that family was a sensitive subject, and asked about your accomplishments that followed your departure, “Were you able to help many Feys before those Manbloods put you in that dungeon?”

It distracted you and made you try to count them all. “I think I healed almost a hundred before I was taken.”

The praise fell from him, “You followed your conscience and it is admirable.”

Was that a compliment?

“As did you.” You pointed out with a smile.

He wasn’t sure if he deserved the praise for it. “I had no plan.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Neither did I.”

A smirk grew on his lips. “And now, here we are.”

You looked at the horses. “With somewhat of a plan, so I suppose we are getting better at this.”

He found himself growing more and more interested in your secrets, “Speaking of the plan, this friend we are traveling to, he wouldn’t happen to be named ‘Matthew’?”

You rolled your eyes and warned, “Don’t be nosy. I might put in a good word for you, if you don’t get on my nerves too much.”

His eyes widened slightly, then narrowed as he scoffed.

You got up from the pew. “I’m heading back upstairs. Squirrel is asleep.”

It took you a bit to get to the door that led to the cloister and before you could open the door, Lancelot was at your side.

You looked at him and with a tilt of his head began to support you by the elbow.

Together you walked down the path towards the stairwell.

He was pleased to see you walk again. “You are doing well.”

You were glad too. “That medicine and salve really helped.”

At the stairwell you cast him a glance and got a bit closer, “Gonna help me?”

The question surprised him, “Not going to try on your own?”

Right away, you took a step back again, feeling a bit stupid for asking. “Fine.”

He bit his tongue and put a hand against your back. “I was not serious.”

You send him a glare but held on to his shoulder for support anyway.

Step by step you ascended, finding that it was getting easier, the last few steps you were able to do on your own.

At the door of the room you quietly said, “You can sleep in one of the beds in the other rooms, we’ll be alright over here. You shouldn’t have to sleep on the floor.”

He gave an agreeing nod, and chose the room next to the one you and Squirrel were in. “Knock on the wall if you need me, I will hear it.”

You nodded back, “Thank you. Good night?”

He gave an inclination of the head and you walked into the room where Squirrel was still vast asleep on the bed.

You left the door open a little to show that you trusted Lancelot not to kill you in your sleep.

Squirrel was snoring a little, something you had gotten used to by now.

Quietly and carefully you got back into the bed and let that snoring help you fall asleep as well.

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The screaming rang into his ears like howling wind in ice cold weather.

His body jolted awake, hand reaching for his sword that rested a little further away against the side of the bed.

He was not even sure if it had been his nightmare or real.

The cloak was left behind in the room as he moved to the one you were in with the boy.

Only his sword accompanied him as he quietly moved the door further open than it was. It was a small sign of your trust towards him that the door was not locked.

His movements were calculated and quiet as he moved to the bed.

First he saw Percival, vastly asleep. He had to move around the bed to make sure you were alright as well.

The sight of you confirmed that the scream had only been part of his nightmare, it had been the memory of what he had heard when the wolf had set it’s teeth into your ankle.

It was rare for a dream to leave him as unsettled as he felt now. Your scream haunted him, even in his waking hours.

You were peacefully asleep, it helped him put his mind to ease again.

If you’d see him now, sword in hand whilst watching over your sleeping form, he knew you would be alarmed.

That believe was confirmed when your eyes slowly opened and he almost couldn’t stop himself from foolishly running off.

A gasp stumbled out of you while jolting upright in the bed.

“I thought I heard something.” He was quick to explain himself.

“Heard what?” You blurted out.

He sheepishly admitted, “A call for help.”

It was a guess, based on how he looked at you now, “From me?”

The Monk gave a shallow nod.

This man was looking quite pale in the little moonlight the window offered.

You moved the sheets away, carefully climbing out of the bed to make sure Squirrel did not wake.

When Lancelot saw you get up from the bed, he came to your side to support your elbow.

The fact that you didn’t even need to ask just showed how considerate he was becoming.

“Outside.” You whispered and walked out of the room with him.

Once in the corridor, you quietly closed the door behind you so Squirrel would not hear. You leaned against the wall. “You look distressed.”

It was a clear statement.

He grew somewhat uncomfortable, as if he believed you would demand to know why that was.

You let a silence fall, in the hope that his answer would fill it.

He looked off to the side, avoiding eye-contact, and said nothing for a while.

“I know I have been cold to you at times. But that does not mean that I am indifferent when I see that you aren’t doing well.” You admitted quietly, hoping it would help him.

Slowly his attention returned and he began to speak. “I was asleep, when I heard a scream. I had believed it to be real until I came to see that you and Percival were safe.”

It was impossible to miss how uncertain he looked while admitting to this.

His first reaction to a nightmare had been to come and make sure you and the boy were safe?

His subconscious was worried about your well-being…

You were quiet for a while, needing a moment to process the knowledge.

Opening up to someone like this, to admit he was forming an attachment, could not have been easy.

You would not exploit what you had learned tonight. “You’re protecting us…”

He swallowed thickly and send his gaze back to the wall again.

This growing attachment could break him…

Or perhaps he was already broken by the previous one that had ended with Father’s death.

Everything felt so fragile, so close to breaking apart. The more he let you learn of him, the easier it would be to be manipulated. And yet, his trust was growing day by day.

“And I am grateful that you are.” You told him, then patted his shoulder rather awkwardly. “I do hope you get some better sleep tonight.”

He just gave the smallest nod of acknowledgment, and you found yourself under that look he had when he was trying to read your mind. You met that look with a timid smile.

Then slowly, you turned and began to use the wall as support to get back to the room Squirrel was in, hearing a quiet sigh coming from him.

“Come here.” He said while taking hold of your elbow again to help.

He helped you back to the bed, then returned to the other room he had been sleeping in.

And you caught yourself hoping that his dreams would be more kind to him in the future.

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It did not surprise you one bit that Squirrel was no longer sleeping in the bed next to you that morning. Your ankle felt much better and you could walk easier now if you took slow steps.

You didn’t find them in the room next to yours and headed downstairs. The door to the chapter house was open, Lancelot and Squirrel were standing over a table with a map.

You walked into the chapter house room and asked, “Where did the map come from?”

Lancelot gestured to the table. “I found it here.”

You stopped next to Squirrel, “Planning the journey?”

He nodded. “I am. This friend, where will we find him?”

Your eyes squinted a bit and you pointed to an area on the map. “We’ll find them here.”

A quiet sigh escaped the Monk. “Moving past Uther’s castle will be difficult, the land around it is well guarded…” His finger grazed over the map. “If we go along the villages, we will be able to replenish our supplies and we need food. But…”

You guessed what the problem was. “We risk getting caught.”

He gave a nod while studying the map. “Along the river is an option as well, but if the weather is against us then a day of rain can leave us with soaked clothes for days.”

There were valid problems he was addressing.

After some thought, you considered the path along the villages the safest. “By going along the river, we will have no shelter or food. We’ll be easy targets for wolves again.”

Lancelot was looking at you to make the decision.

But you wanted his input on it, “If you were traveling alone, what would you do?”

He would be far more reckless in his decisions.

Now there were people counting on him again.

He answered, “I am not alone now. There is a person with me who is still healing from infection, and Percival. Along the villages it is then?”

You agreed on it and gestured to him. “Along the villages. Keep that cloak close, out of the three of us, you are the easiest to recognize.”

Squirrel came up with an idea, “We can put some mud on his face, so others will think his marks are just that too?”

Was the boy really comparing his markings with mud?

You gave Squirrel’s arm a nudge.

The Monk was trying not to take it personal and remind himself that Squirrel was often blunt but still just a child.

“Your Ash Folk markings do not like mud stains.” You said, then nudged the boy again. “Right, Squirrel?”

The boy looked up at your curiously, like he was baffled that you really thought so.

“Squirrel.” You said a little firmer.

The cheeky boy yielded. “Alright, fine. They don’t.”

Lancelot did not let it get to his heart. “Tomorrow we leave. Today we can prepare ourselves for the journey.”

The Monk rolled up the map and took it with him.

Together you walked to where the horses were and saw him begin to take off all the items Goliath wore that bore the cross symbol.

“Wise choice.” You went over to do the same with your horse.

Squirrel choose to help Lancelot, the boy was getting quite fond of the black steed and it’s rider.

“What?” The boy suddenly said.

You looked over at them and saw that the question was for Lancelot, Squirrel was looking back and forth between you and him.

“Nothing.” The Monk quickly answered.

Squirrel send him a doubtful look, which the Monk ignored.

That was odd…

Once the horses were relieved off their religious symbols, Lancelot suggested that it would be best to collect anything useful you could find.

While he did his best to get anything useful out of the old infirmary, you exchanged the remaining linen from the dungeon for the cleaner ones of the abbey.

They looked eerily similar and you were almost certain that the Brothers had taken them from this abandoned abbey too.

Squirrel was searching the place and returned from the kitchens with something useful. “Look what I found!”

You turned around to see him hold two empty large woven sacks that were almost bigger than him and praised the boy for it. “Goodness. Good find! We’ll use one, can you bring the other to Lancelot?”

Squirrel was already running over to the infirmary.

Those sacks would be far more handy than having to use a linen sheet to store everything inside. You went upstairs with the sack and rummaged through the rooms and every single cabinet or chest that you ran into.

In one of the rooms you found a comb, that was useful. The room next to it, at the end of the hall, contained what you had been wishing for.

A pair of trousers and a clean long sleeved shirt were in a drawer. The shirt was a little too big but your bodice would hide that well enough.

You stuffed them into the sack for later, when there was a moment to change into them.

Once you were done with searching the room, you went back downstairs and ran into Squirrel who had been on his way to you again. “I found a comb, I can help you with your hair now too.”

Squirrel grimaced and scrunched his nose at the idea. “No.”

You were left staring at his back when the boy began to walk away.

Just then, Lancelot came out of the infirmary and must have heard the boy’s answer, he took hold of Squirrel’s shoulder and steered the boy around and back to you.

The Monk told the boy what the result would be of this reluctance, “Would you prefer to cut it off once the knotting becomes too much?”

The boy whipped his head around. “No!”

He pushed the boy in your direction “Well then. Let her help you.”

A grumbling Squirrel went over to you, and you took him with you to the kitchen and had him sit on a chair there.

by giving a little tug at his vest and cloak, you signaled for him to take it off before it would be covered in fallen hair.

Squirrel took them off and let it drop to the floor, the Monk passed by him and picked it up to hold.

The whole room could feel how Percival’s mood had switched now.

When you began, you hadn’t thought it would be so bad as it was.

You tried not to worry about it as you encountered knot after knot and Squirrel barely held back a couple of curses.

It was a continuous change between you apologizing for it and him quietly cursing.

Lancelot had picked his battles, and letting the boy curse quietly was worth it if it meant the hair would be free of knots.

“You could use a comb too.” The boy sneered.

Lancelot arched a brow at the attitude he was faced with.

“We can all use a comb.” You corrected him. “And you could really use a fresh shirt too.”

You looked up at the Monk who tilted his head in agreement.

It didn’t feel right to let the boy wear a shirt that had not been washed in quite some time, “We could wash the one you are wearing, if we had a way to dry it quickly.”

Poor Squirrel sounded hopeful, “Really?”

So it had been bothering the boy…

The Monk gestured to the boy. “I’ll take care of it.”

You stopped combing Squirrel’s hair so the boy could take of his shirt and hand it to him. Lancelot proceeded to walk out of the room with it and you continued combing Squirrel’s hair until all the knots were gone.

Two hours. That was how long it took for you to comb Squirrel’s hair, and afterwards the boy could not stop racking his fingers through it and did mention how much lighter it felt. Without having to be encouraged, Squirrel asked you for a bucket of water to wash his hair with. So, you made him put on his vest and then went outside to the cloister, where the well was, with him. Lancelot had not only washed Squirrel’s shirt, but had also put it down on the grass to dry next to a small bonfire.

“Where’s my shirt?…” Squirrel sounded utterly confused.

Lancelot was kneeling on the grass and looked up at him, he pointed to the shirt in front of him. “It is right here.”

“That’s not…” The boy came closer and inspected the shirt that was drying, then blurted out, “It is.”

Well, it must have been quite long since he had seen his shirt in a clean state.

The Monk prevented him from putting it on right away. “Wait a while, it is still drying.”

Seeing Squirrel happy warmed your heart. “You can wash your hair in the meantime. With the sun and the fire, the shirt will be dry soon.”

You turned to the Monk, “Can you fill a bucket for him, or do you want me to do so?”

He was already standing and took one of the empty buckets to fill it at the well.

With a smile, you thanked him for it, “Thank you. I’ll go and grab a towel.”

You went inside to grab a towel that you had seen in the infirmary.

When you returned, you saw Squirrel dunk his head into the bucket of water and splash the water everywhere.

��Feys.” Lancelot jested as he came to stand beside you.

You returned it, “Do you know how many paladins I have wanted to shove into a bucket of water? Is it in the scriptures not to wash oneself?”

The feeling was mutual. Some of the paladins had never bothered to keep themselves clean, not even a little bit.

He played along. “Not in the ones I have read.”

You grinned a bit. “Ah, yes. Yours tells you to pluck every wrong hair off of your face.”

He was looking at you from the corner of his eyes, a grin matching yours, “Are you calling me vain?

By waiting a couple of seconds to answer, you hoped it got on his nerves. “Not at all.”

That had not sounded genuine.

He send you a look, detecting the jest.

The splashing of the water increased to the point where drops were falling on your boots and trousers.

You took a step away from him. “While you’re here keeping an eye out. I think I will take a moment to freshen myself up as well. I found some clothes in the dormitories, so I can finally get rid of these bloodied ones.”

“Where will you be?,” He asked, then clarified why. “So we know what room not to enter.”

You thought about it for a moment, thinking about what would be easiest. “I’ll use the infirmary, there’s enough linen and rags in there to use for it.”

The Monk gave a nod and followed it up with advice. “I brought that small mirror from the dungeon with us, it is in Goliath’s saddle bag.”

Oh? That would come in handy for inspecting your back. “Great, I’ll be needing it.”

Just before you could leave, he asked, “How is your back?”

You shifted your weight to your other leg. “It no longer burns, I think the medicine worked for the wounds there too. Now I’ll just have to hope it doesn’t scar too much.”

His eyes fell to the grass.

You quickly realized why. “I’m sorry..”

He refused to let his scars hold power over him. “It’s alright. I know.”

When you didn’t walk off to do what you had wanted to do, he was aware that you genuinely regretted reminding him of his scars.

The Monk gestured towards the infirmary. “Go on. I will make sure the boy does not drown himself in the bucket.”

A laugh fell out of you and the awkward tension between you washed away. “Alright, Good plan.”

You took one of the full buckets and headed to the horses first to collect the mirror, then the clothes from the sack, and walked to the infirmary.

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mollywog · 2 years ago

Text

In an attempt to avoid my District 13 fic I wrote a little something based on Katniss’s brief mention of the lynx in the first book. Thank you @professionalfangrrl for reviewing and giving me ideas on how to punch it up for future use 😜

This will likely be I incorporated into a poorly named Teacher Peeta TWHHA story eventually.

“This is incredible!” It’s probably the tenth time I’ve said it, but I haven’t gotten over my initial amazement at being beyond the fence with Katniss Everdeen. She’s ahead of me and turns in my direction with an exasperated glare. I mouth a ‘sorry’ and snap my mouth shut. She’s so quiet. I can’t imagine ever being over the awe of the forest. Not that she takes it for granted, but she doesn’t seem to notice the way the light dances as it filters through the leafy treetops or the smell of pine and wet earth all around us.

“Am I the first person you’ve brought out here?” It’s a dumb question as evident by her soft snort.

“Hardly.” She pauses, contemplating before continuing “I didn’t ‘bring’ Gale out here: We met in the forest when I was 12 and reluctantly became a team. I brought Prim a handful of times, but she’s a healer, not a hunter and the risks are too high to let her tag along just to gather. Madge has an odd fascination with the woods, so I took her out a couple of times and showed her how to shoot, but that was just for ‘fun’: Rory and Vick I brought along and taught them to hunt for survival. Then Vera, of course, but she sort of followed me here, wouldn’t let up until I showed her how to handle the snare runs.” She trails off staring back at my boots. “You’ve got to be more quiet. Watch where I step.”

“Sorry” I say bashfully. I’m not sure what I’m doing, but it’s clearly offensive. It’s peaceful out here, but not silent. The woods are alive with sound: distant water rushing, birds chirping, insects buzzing, leaves rustling. I’m not sure how she can hear a snapped branch or two over all the other noises. I try to follow in her footsteps, but am easily distracted by the surroundings and forget my feet. We walk on in relative silence for a few steps before I speak again. “But Gale’s been your only hunting partner over all these years?” I don’t mention her father, it’s implied and I know she’d rather I not say it out loud.

She nods. I feel a pang of jealousy for a moment. I know nothing romantic happened between them, but their hunting bond is still a form of closeness, an intimacy I’ll never achieve. Especially if the way she keeps glaring at my shoes is any indication.

“I take that back.” She says abruptly. “There was this lynx that used to follow me around back in the beginning”

My ears perk. I love her woodland stories. “Like the big cat? I kind of thought those were made up to keep us afraid of the woods.”

“No, they’re real, though they don’t hunt naughty children. They mostly like to be left alone”

“Doesn’t sound familiar at all”

she rolls her eyes but smirks all the same. “He wasn’t bad company.”

Now I’m feeling jealous of the cat. “And what happened to him? Should I be worried we’ll run into him and he’ll get territorial?”

“Nah, you’ve got me to protect you.” I glance over at her. It was an off handed comment: as if it was obvious. I try to ignore the implication: that I am somehow dear to her, worthy of protecting. She continues unperturbed “Besides he’s dead.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be too sorry, I was the one to take him out; he scared off all the game. Not to mention reinforced Gale’s stupid nickname.” She shades her eyes as she looks up into the treetops. “I almost regretted it... But I got a decent price for his pelt.” She ends with a shrug.

That was not the story I expected. I’m standing dumbstruck when I notice her turn her head slightly to get a peak at my stunned expression, but it’s enough that I can see she’s barely containing a smile; She’s messing with me.

“Okay!” I raise my hands in surrender. “I get it! Tell me where I should go to be out of your way. But just so you don’t get any ideas, I doubt my pelt would be worth much.”

She laughs and motions me to follow her.

#the lynx #everlark drabble #thg #everlark #everlark fanfiction #canon divergent au #prim and Peeta never reaped AU #thg fanfiction #you’re so pretty but a terrible hunter #teacher Peeta has Saturday’s off #do you see how being a teacher has nothing to do with the plot #but is convenient for my storytelling #haha

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nahoney22 · 2 years ago

Text

Racing Ahead

Tech X GN!Reader

word count: 1.5k

When Tech is more than willing to race to save you and Cid from the claws of Cid’s old acquaintance, how do you feel when he steals something for good luck.

warnings: scenes used from Ep 4 of TBB S2, mutual pining and tooth rotting fluff. Reader is gender neutral. Not proofread.

All of Tech’s hard work shattered before his eyes and even though you personally found TAY-0 to be one of the most arrogant and irritating droids alive, it was harrowing seeing him get blasted by a racer. Just before the race to get Cid back was about to begin, too.

“Tough luck, looks like a forfeit.” Millegi snidely comments, a smirk on his face. You look up at the Dowutin, eyes glaring daggers which you now came to realise was a fateful decision as that smirk grows wider.

“You know, I like things to be even too. So double the money… and double the crew.” His hand reaches down, clasping over your shoulder and brings you harshly into his chest with your back.

“Let them go.” Tech speaks with sense of overpowering protectiveness, hand placed on his holster ready to shoot if need be.

“Uh, this wasn’t part of the deal!” You squirm in his grasp only to be pushed back towards the other of his little cronies where they kept you more securely from running off.

“That’s hustlin for you. Cid should have taught you all about that.” He guffaws but that’s when something in Tech had snapped.

“I’ll be the racer.”

Your eyes widened and your squirming quickly subsided as you shook your head at him. “Tech, no. It’s far too dangerous.” You couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“This is something I have to do. There is not a choice in this.” He didn’t even look at you as he spoke, eyes glaring at the men in front of him with venom in his eyes. Seeing you being manhandled like that shot a course of panic and determination through his veins and if he had to race one hundred times to get you back, he would.

Eyes widening in a mix of horror and shock, you keep protesting although there is not really any alternative option. But, Tech’s face showed the greatest determination he had ever displayed and it was all in favor of you. Well, and Cid.

Although you shouldn’t feel grateful, Millegi kindly told you that you could say your ‘goodbyes’ as he put it and allowed you to spend five minutes with Tech before the race was to begin.

When you could finally see him, he’s by the speeder he had fixed up, over analyzing every small detail. Even Omega and Wrecker had to sit back and watch, chewing their fingernails to subdue their hanging anxiety.

“Tech, what are you doing? This is madness! You don’t even know how to race.” You join his side, his eyes briefly meeting yours before looking back at the layout of the track on his datapad.

“I have surveyed the whole layout and I think the favors are in my court.” He says as a matter of fact but there’s still nerves in both of your stomachs.

“You could die.” You point out, replaying the scenes of the previous two races in your head after seeing what happened to those contestants.

Tech drops his datapad and switches for a spanner, making a small alteration on the speeder and practically ignores your statement.

He knew the risks to this sport but he could not sit back and do nothing. He had no time to fix TAY-0 so this was the only solution. He freezes however, feeling something place on his forearm and he looks to see your hand. “Tech.”

He sighs a little and looks over to you. “We should have never agreed to come do this mission for Cid. It had too many risks that I had not calculated before coming.”

“We didn’t know this would happen.”

“That may be so, but look at what predicament it has got you in.” His voice is stern but of course laced with concern.

“Millegi said he wasn’t going to kill me,” you recite back to a small conversation you had with your capturer before he allowed you to come see Tech, “Cid however…”

“To be fair, I care less about Cid in comparison to you. Too often she has left us in dangerous situations and it isn’t the first time we have had to rescue her.” Tech is pacing now, rambling and talking with his hands. “Death or not, I refuse to let you be taken.”

A tannoy announcement blares, indicating that there’s two minutes to go and that Racers should make their way to the starting line. The two of you look at one another, hearts racing.

You felt a strong connection to Tech, always have done since you first step foot in the Marauder. You were one of the few who would listen to his ramblings and never get bored and of course, he noticed this. At first he thought nothing of it but when you started to callback to previous things he had said, his heart began to swell in awe. His feelings began to fester until they finally bloomed and he was rather smitten with you. Which was why he did not hesitate to come to your aid.

If Tech was going to lose or possibly die in the next ten minutes, he knew he could not live these final moments in regret. Although he is confident and favors himself a 89.45% chance of winning if his plan goes correctly, there is something that could boost his confidence.

He throws his tools and datapad to the side on the workbench, grabs his helmet before he quickly crosses over to you like a man on a mission.

You stumble back a little, the very quick close proximity surprising you. “I am not a man who necessarily believes in luck. In fact, strategy and logistics is my forte but I can not risk this enough to not gain any more luck.”

Before you could even ask what it was he had in mind, his hand is on your waist and you’re flushed to his body whilst his lips ascend upon yours. Your eyes are wide in shock, hands coming up but unsure where to place them so they’re left dangling awkwardly in the air as his eyes knit tightly closed, savoring the feeling of your lips against his. You’re pushed into the workbench, all your senses overwhelmed that you can’t even process what is truly happening. When he pulled away, he let out a shaken exhale.

“That should have done the trick. I shall see you at the finish line.” He nods simply before he moves around you and gets ready to race.

You remain rooted to your spot, dazed but your skin burnt with a glorious glow of blush after Tech, the Tech, kissed you. Although he had gone and is out of ear shot, you whispered a small good luck before making your way back to the private lounge.

After countless tight calls, Tech renders victorious. You had to refrain from cheering in front of Millegi who had a face like a slapped Bantha’s backside. But, a deal was a deal and he sets you free with Cid too.

When you saw him on the big screen, watching the audience cheer for him you almost wept in great pride. Sometimes his work is not appreciated by his brothers but seeing him get the praise he deserved made your heart full.

Once back with them you’re hugging Wrecker and Omega closely and happy to be reunited but as you peer over Omega’s shoulder, Tech stands tall with a very shy expression. “I’ll uh- catch up with you guys in a minute.”

Tech steps towards you, relieved to see you unharmed and very much alive. As if there was any doubt. “I told you I would not allow them to take you.”

“I didn’t think you would.” You smile softly, a blush already creeping up your neck and ears just by being close with him again. You wanted to mention the surprising kiss but your heart would simply shatter if you found out it meant nothing. But, when Tech takes another daring move - clearly on a high after his win - he takes your hand in his and brings you close.

“I’ll take it you are wondering as to why I bestowed you with a kiss… and then abruptly left.”

You tilt your head to the side, grinning softly up at him with hopeful eyes. “You mean that ‘good luck’ kiss?”

He gulps but nods his head. “Y-yes. I am not into cliches but just last night I came across a holomovie where a kiss like this was given. Plus, I can not deny that I have been wanting to-.” He stops himself, suddenly becoming very nervous but you manage to coax him out of his nerves by cupping his cheek, thumb tracing over his finely stubbled jaw.

“Wanted to kiss me?” You push on, eyes gleaming with a longing that could be finalized right this very moment.

“Yes, cyare. To kiss you.” He breathes softly, a goofy grin displaying on his features.

“Well,” you step closer to him, voice hushed and he almost melts at the feeling of your warm breath against his face, “don’t let me stop you from doing it again.”

Without a second to even think, he captures your lips against his own and envelopes his arms around your frame. You sigh into his embrace, letting your lips move along his in a gentle dance that is sure to sweep you off your feet. It’s short and sweet but he whispered a promise against your lips that more on the ship will definitely be on the cards.

He won the race and more importantly, he won you. Could his day get any better?

Masterlist

More Tech Works

tags: @discofern @s1st3r @buddee @taskfork-archive @the-good-shittt @crystal076 @cosmic-persephone @imalovernotahater @swiftiexstarwarssimp @by-the-primes @torchbearerkyle @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @a-c-lee @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @lucyysthings @tinyreadersmur @agenteliix @myinnerwonderlandmind @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease e @megafrost4 @theroguesully @equalityforcats @bomboclaat y @rexandechosandwich @mustluvecho @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet

#the bad batch #bad batch tech #nahoney22 writes #bad batch tech x reader #tech x reader #tbb tech x reader #tech the bad batch #clone wars #tbb

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whirlybirbs · 3 years ago

Text

FEVER-DREAM ; echo/reader

summary: echo is fine-tuning his new prosthesis. you have experience, you help. unspoken feelings are acted on. adoration blooms. you learn what mesh’la means.

word count: 3k

pairing: echo / f!reader

tags: mutual pining, lots of tender looks, victorian-era hand-touching sluttiness, echo is a gentle soul, reader is head over heels, a touch of ptsd mention, set on ord mantell, mention of our boy fives, in this house we love assistive devices, enough sexual tension to power the death star

a/n: this is me round-house kicking the bad batch writers in the throat because they made echo cosplay a droid — but, also because this man deserves to be treated as more than a means to a mission’s end. majority of you know i am ~bitter~ (understatement of the century) of tbb’s plot/design/writing. but echo has been a favorite from the original days... so have some very soft fic.

i reference character redesigns by @nibeul in this piece — please go peep them here, and some updated character spreads here! they’re really beautiful and add a phenomenal layer of storytelling to the existing designs that’s lacking. nibuel’s art and writing is lovely. please give them a follow — i can’t rec their work enough.

“How does it feel?”

The words are nearly whispered; it’s clear you didn’t want to startle him, and Echo can feel the pinch in his brow soften at your sudden appearence in the doorway.

His bunk, at the back of the Havoc Marauder, is small — the space itself even more so. There’s a makeshift partition, hooked together with spare parts and meant to offer a bit of privacy on the cramped vessel. Its slate grey color has faded, and the edges have become tattered in the cycles of use.

When Echo pulls his dark eyes up from his work, you’re leaning against the frame — your expression is earnest.

For a moment, the once-ARC Trooper is quiet.

He wonders if he’ll ever get used to your attention. Each and every time, it sends him into a spiral; his heart catches as he inhales and tries to push down the warm stir in his gut. The sight of you is enough, nowadays, to melt Echo’s well-maintained irritability. His attention is stolen from his ever-present pain, if only for a bit.

There are plenty of days where he misses the old him — the wide-eyed, eager ARC Trooper who had his brothers by his side. His real brothers. Hevy, Cutup, Droidbait... Fives.

Fuckin’ hell, Fives was probably staring down at him now laughing.

No matter what changes, you’re still shit with the ladies, vod’ika.

In a way he hasn’t fully admitted to himself, you make him feel like himself again. Like... Like some shiny cadet, on leave and distracted by the promises of pretty smiles passing-by. It’s good.

This makes him feel... good.

He flexes, and his right hand — the new, gunmetal durasteel cyberized-prosthesis — closes into a tight fist. It’s taken him a bit, but the feeling isn’t so foreign now. It’s still... slow. Slower than he’s used to, but you’d mentioned it may take some time. The phantom feelings get better, too. All in all, it’s a good thing.

Your own hand, your left, glimmers back in the same gunmetal color.

(Echo had never pressed you about the missing limb — not until one day, in Cid’s, you’d joined him in a quiet corner. You’d spilled your drink and a complaint about getting the star-cherry syrup out of the joints had slipped out. Echo had laughed; a real laugh, the sort that was so rare coming from him, it had you staring at him as if he’d hung ever star in the sky.

Can I ask how it happened? he’d said, breaking the heavy silence when your eyes never left his.

The Pykes, you’d said, and that was enough.)

“I haven’t, uh... Haven’t gotten the sensory calibration right yet.”

Then, his prosthesis cramps. His fingers go rigid, and Echo curses sharply as he reaches around his forearm to quickly reboot the appendage. It goes slack, then hums alive once more.

You wince.

You’re slow to move into the room — and you settle atop one of the crates Echo had stolen from the belly of the ship, an old Mantell Mix shipping container. You’re mindful to set his datapad aside, to not disturb his space too much. Before you reach for his hand, however, you lift your chin and open your hands in your lap.

“May I?” you ask, just as soft as before.

Echo feels small under your gaze.

Truth be told, you’re doing more than just... asking. You’re taking him in — appreciating him. It’s a habit that’s grown more and more apparent to not only himself, but the others.

In recent rotations, Echo has let his hair grow out — not long, but the once close buzz he’d kept has begun to curl at the top. Not entirely dissimilair to how it was before the Citadel. The dermal implants, the ones the Techno Union installed in order to parse the nuerological data in his head, stand out against his warm-colored skin.

His usual AJ^6-inspired headpiece is resting on his bunk.

That damn thing.

A neccesary tool. One that, given the amount of user data Tech had procured when working on modifying the implant, Echo found himself immediately distrusting. It wasn’t as if the AJ^6 cyborg construct had a beautiful track record, and frankly, Echo would like to keep his personality in tact, thank you very much. There were plenty of days he felt machine enough.

It wasn’t often you saw him without the headset; you knew it made linking in via his scomp easier to handle, it made the visualization of data transfers as easy as breathing. For Echo, it was a part of his vast kit, an important tool. For you, seeing him without it bubbles up a bit of a smile.

Echo catches it.

His eyes narrow playfully.

He looks... well. You — hell, are there words for it? For the way the sight of him makes you feel? It’s like there’s a world full of potential there, a thousand words unsaid, and feelings that have steeped in the warmth of longing gazes and half-there touches.

You’re still looking up at him, knees bent on the crate.

You blink, realizing you’ve been caught staring — not for the first time and certainly not for the last. In the beginning, it had left a sour taste in Echo’s mouth. But, now... Well, it stokes a sort of pride in his chest that he hangs onto.

It never gets easier to recover from — certainly not when Echo smirks. He moves to allow you to take his prosthesis into your lap. The gesture is gentle; your fingers cradle the firm yet pliable metal.

“What?” he asks. His voice, low and rough and warm, is tinted with amusement.

“Nothing,” you say vaguely with a shrug — as if that’s supposed to explain any part of your enamored stare. Your attention moves to the prosthesis.

“Nothing?” he asks, moving to thumb his left ear with his free hand with a dash of nervousness. A habit. Echo tilts his head as his fingers brush the cochlear implant there. The panel rests neatly against the side of his head, a small rounded-off square. The bite of self-consciousness has dwindled around you — but still, it creeps back up every now and again.

The Corporal’s brows knot playfully as you turn his new hand over in your lap; you’re admiring the upgraded feel, the more seamless panelling in comparison to your own. Echo watches your lashes flutter in silent thought.

Then:

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

You blink slowly at the hand, swallow down your sudden sheepishness and ignore his gaze. You bite back the smile digging into your cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Do I have something on my face?” he asks suddenly, and you look up.

A baited trick. He’s smiling.

The warm sort — the sort reserved for you and for Omega. The two souls that hold a piece of his heart, with all its ticking valves and electric timed pulses. There are machinisms that keep him alive, and then there is you. Your wide-eyed expression melts, giving way to the sort of smile he’s tried to memorize over and over. It’s the same smile that has warded off that reoccuring nightmare of the night on the tarmac at the Citadel, the same smile that has pulled him through the grit of phantom pains.

“What—” a sudden laugh bursts from your chest, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You were staring, mesh’la,” he rumbles out as a reminder, enjoying the fact he’s suddenly become the center of your attention. Echo leans back, his boot toeing yours. You nudge it back. Your face feels hot. You ignore his pointedly teasing look with a roll of your eyes.

The nickname started a few weeks ago. You haven’t asked what it means — no, for now it’s meaning hangs in the balance. Untouched but there. The affection the word carries makes your heart feel heavier and unbelievably full.

“Bad habit,” you chirp back, looking up at him through your lashes.

His laugh is warm.

“Maybe not.”

“No,” you say quietly; your voice is soft as your eyes bounce across his face, tracing the lines of his face with your gaze, “I don’t think it is.”

There’s a silence that slips between you — a comfortable one. It’s heavier than before. That has begun to happen recently, especially with the petal-soft utterance of mesh’la becoming more and more frequent. You hold his gaze. Echo lets out a soft, contented sigh.

Then, you remember the task at hand.

You clear your throat.

“Uh... The access panel I’m looking for,” you say slowly as your raise your finger to point to your own arm, “It’s on your bicep.”

Echo blinks. He clears his own throat before looking down — he hadn’t even noticed that access panel. That could explain the jarring miscommunication stalling the limb. This model had more bells and whistles than he initally realized.

Better than a fuckin’ scomp link, that’s for sure.

Wordlessly, Echo makes room on his bunk. You move to settle beside him, your bent leg resting aginst his hip as you half-straddle the bed; your other knee brushes his thigh — and Echo tries to sit still. You’re close, now.

“Is it okay if...?” you trail off, fingers tugging on the short sleeve of his blacks; you pause until Echo offers a curt nod. You catch him swallow. You push onward, fingers nimbly rolling the fabric up over his broad bicep.

Echo steals a glance your way as your fingers pass across a slip of his bare skin.

In his lap, both his hands twitch.

He’s no small man. Lean and athletic, Echo is built like a soldier. Omega had said once that Echo was an ARC Trooper, one of the best of the best. You believed every bit of it, and you’d hung on her words when she’d rambled on about ARC training, about Kamino, and about who Echo was before you knew him. It was all in the past, though. That Echo is a part of this Echo but... They’re different men. He’s been changed by the things that have happened.

You don’t press him on the details.

In time, they’re slipped into conversation here and there — between the here and now.

In the beginning, when you’d found yourself amongst the crew of the Havoc Marauder — be it for a simple job on Cid’s behalf — Echo had hardly paid you a moment of attention, though you admit you’d been curious from the start. It had taken three jobs for you to finally see his face. Then began the slow and gradual bonding over catching joints, grating plates, and hardware updates. His legs, your arm. Two pieces of a pair.

Now, he has this. A beautiful new upgrade — something he’s wanted for a long time. A part of his old self is back, in a way.

You liked that it was more than just a tool. That, in having this piece of his body back, he felt like more than a tool. More than a scomp link.

After all, he is a man — a... a very handsome man. One whose proximity is sort of distracting you, again, from the task at hand.

“The panel here,” you say as you slowly press on the seam that enables the settings panel to be revealed; you’re mindful to explain, “It controls sensory outputs, as well as synchonized synaptic commands. The panel on my forearm does the same to my hand, yours is just... well, you’ve got the new and improve version.”

Echo ducks his head as you work, watching you from the corner of his eye. “Feeling a bit jealous, mesh’la?”

“Maybe,” you breathe out with a smile.

Then, you lift your eyes. You intended to see that he was still comfortable, but instead you come face to face with the Corporal. His nose nearly brushes yours when you lift you chin, completely dragged in by the closeness shared.

There’s a beat of tension. Echo’s mouth goes dry.

You fingers pause. You swallow hard. “How... uh, how does it feel?”

Echo tightens his grip, then releases. His breath tickles your cheeks. His eyes, a deep, warm brown, flit from your eyes to your mouth, and then back. His voice is a croak.

“...Same as before.”

You tinker with a dial, eyes never leaving his; your voice is above a whisper. “And now?”

It’s immediate. Like a rush of cold air up his arm — and on instinct, Echo’s hand twitches. His fingers grip the fabric of his blacks, along his thigh, and... he feels it. The smooth, stretch of the material. It’s... it feels like a lot. His fingertips, metallic and cyberized, tingle. It’s distracting.

He can feel.

His hand is slow. It moves across to bridge the space between you. His pointer finger settles on the curve of your knee; the feeling of your tactical pants beneath his fingertip is ignored, instead he chases the heat of your body.

Your breath catches at the touch.

Echo’s face is turned to you, but... his attention has settled on his hand. His palm then sweeps across your thigh. He follows the curve, soaks in the feeling. You’re frozen in place, beating back the desperate sound of appreciation that threatens to be pulled from your throat. The touch is... more than welcomed.

The closeness itself is making you dizzy.

Then, Echo turns — and the warm, durasteel-plated palm finds your cheek.

Your skin is hot.

“Is this okay, mesh’la?” he whispers, words riding on a quiet exhale — the sort that make you feel... well, you don’t even have words for the way he makes you feel. Echo is... kind, honest, and loyal. Above all else, he’s gentle. Despite it all, despite every bit of horror he’d been put through, he’d never lost sight of the importance of a gentle hand. Especially now in a moment as intimate as this. It coaxes you closer.

You lean into the cybernetic attachment, cheek resting in his palm. You nod, then, with eyes eager to take in every bit of this moment.

He chuckles at the enthusiasm. Echo’s thumb, deft and smooth, then traces the line of your lower lip.

The feeling is... the gnawing pain that he’s felt for nearly a year has melted. Finally, the itch has been scratched in his brain and the hollow ache of his bones is gone. It’s relief, and comfort, and excitement and all these beautiful things — and you.

You’re stuck — you don’t want to move, you won’t move. He’s rooted you completely, and when his other hand — the calloused and warm one of flesh and blood — finds it’s spot along your thigh, you swallow a lovesick sigh that would only exaserbate your desperation.

Your mouth is moving before you realize it.

“What does it mean?”

Echo’s eyes narrow, only a bit, and he runs his thumb up your cheekbone.

“What does what mean?”

“Mesh’la,” it sounds foreign on your tongue. It’s not Hutteese or Twi’leki, not like any language you know, “Will you tell me what it means, Echo?”

The corner of his lips quirk. Your eyes jump to it.

You feel like someone’s reached right into your chest and given your heart a squeeze — and it only worsens when he laughs. He laughs, deep and quiet and warm, like a thunderstorm on a summer night. It feels cruel, to string you along like this when you’re here, lips parted, hanging off his every touch and his every word.

“Beautiful,” he says quietly as his other hand touches your jaw — it’s so damn reverent, this little moment in time, that you almost don’t believe it’s real.

It feels like a dream — like someone has come in and stolen your thoughts from you; like the unrequited yearning has finally stoked a fire large enough to burn you up entirely, a fever you never knew you wanted.

His nose brushes yours.

Your fingers wind into the fabric of his chest. You’re clinging, lost to the moment — and you can’t help wonder if this is how it feels when he catches you adoring him. He’s admiring you so tenderly that you nearly break.

You want to kiss him.

He’s thought about nothing but kissing you for the last five days at least. Longer in his dreams. Nowadays, it’s a constant pull, a constant want.

And now, it’s here — a present and current moment where it can happen. Where he can stop being a shiny cadet and he can make a move...

Enter Omega.

“Echo, we’re back—!”

The telltale hammer of a girl’s boots on the floor signals that the party is back from their supply run — but you’re so far off, spinning in a different universe, you don’t even hear her until its too late... Until Echo is yanking himself away and clearing his throat and rolling his wrist to test the prosthesis in a different way, a less intimate way.

You blink, then rattle yourself back to the present. Omega is in the doorway staring with a quizzical look. Clearly, your state does little to dissuade the assumptions she’s already making and you can see the gears turning in her head. The dark-haired girl then slowly grins.

“Hi.”

You swallow. “Hi, Omega.”

“...Whatcha guys doin’?”

Echo coughs. “Uh, just fine-tuning the new upgrade.”

“...Riiiiiight.”

You rub your cheeks and laugh — clearly forced and incredibly pained — as you stand up and nearly ram your head right into the top of Echo’s bunk. It’s met with a hiss of warning from the trooper as he jumps up to try and protect you from the impact.

“Well! Uh, thanks for letting me help, Echo,” you clap, rocking back and forth on your boots, “I, uh... Oh, Cid called. I should... I should get back—”

“Yea,” he says, straining a bit to find the words, “Yea, I’ll... I’ll comm you if it starts to, uh... If it starts to act up?”

Omega watches the exchange, big brown eyes moving from left to right.

“Good, great — yea, that’s,” you inhale as you rub your thighs and move towards the door, “Perfect. Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Bye!” Omega calls, waving.

You wave back, smiling. “Bye, Omega.”

Then, once it’s only Echo and Omega in the bunk, the tween speaks.

“...What the kriff was that?”

#HE IS A CORPORAL!!!!!#let echo say fuck #and omega #echo x reader #echo imagine #arc trooper echo x reader #echo/reader #echo/you #echo x you #tcw imagine #tbb imagine #sw imagine #the bad batch imagine #THANK YOU ANON WHO SENT ME THE UPDATED SPREADS #LOVE U ANGEL

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slightlymore · 4 years ago

Text

hardest to love

part of the ‘soulmates collection’

surgeon!doyoung x surgeon!fem reader

others: haechan, jaemin, jeno

genre: medical au (but the medical part is not heavy), romance, angst, smut, fantasy elements, “enemies” to lovers, mutual pining

warnings: +18, esplicit sexual content: doyoung is a hard dom and a soft dom in different scenes, short instances of sub doyoung, finger sucking (I know, I have a hand kink), spanking, raw, ice play, fingering, dry humping, thigh riding, choking, use of "sir", orgasm control and denial, edging, overstimulation, light degradation, oral f, brat taming, safe word, wine play?; lots of teasing; swearing; discussion around death; doyoung is a jerk but gets better

words: 13k

note: you can read this as a stand alone without having read the other works in the soulmate collection. what you need to know: haechan, jeno and jaemin travel different universes with the purpose of getting doyoung and yn be together. mark is trying to do the opposite. sometimes doyoung can remember past lives and sometimes he can't. this life takes place in a hospital. if you're confused by the three boys’ story everything will be explained in their backstory fics coming soon.

__________

Haechan let out a single deep sigh.

“Damn it. Doyoung is a fucking jerk in this life.”

The three young men were standing in the corner of the room watching two students trembling mortified in front of a pissed off Doyoung before he could turn around on his heels.

“I thought he was a jerk in all lives,” Jeno commented while dusting off imaginary lice off his jacket.

"I’ll be honest. When you said 'hell' I didn't expect the ER."

“Well have you ever been to-” Haechan continued but stopped when noticing Jeno not listening to him anymore but observing their third friend instead.

“Hey, Jaemin?” Jeno put one hand on his shoulder.

Jaemin was weak and paler than usual, eyes wide and with a slightly trembling chin. He then followed the direction of the younger gaze and gasped himself.

“Yeah,” Haechan grated the back of his head. “I’m sorry. I told you this one is going to be hard.”

Jaemin gulped, looking at himself walking around the bed and checking on the patients.

That Jaemin looked exactly like him.

The only difference was the clothes. That doppelganger had a doctor gown instead of a sweatshirt.

“How is this possible? I don’t understand how I can be here and there at the same time.”

Haechan sighed at Jaemin’s comment.

“You could consider it time travel. Now, listen to me.”

Jaemin let himself be grabbed by Haechan’s hands, pressing on both of his arms and looked at the other’s intense eyes.

“You have to avoid yourself while we work and-,” he stopped as if making sure to have Jaemin’s whole attention, “-you can’t talk to her.”

As if Haechan’s voice was a spell that summons people, Jaemin raised his gaze from him to look behind Haechan’s shoulder where a woman was slowly walking the corridor, eyebrows furrowed trying to understand the medical records she was carrying.

“Shit,” Haechan silently cursed and, placing one hand on Jaemin’s cheek, he indicated to keep quiet by putting one finger on his own lips.

If Jaemin weren’t so weak in the limbs upon seeing her, he would have felt the tingle on his skin coming from Haechan’s palm, or he would have realized that the woman walked past them as if they were all invisible.

Jeno, arms crossed on his chest, followed the woman with his eyes then nodded once as to indicate that the path was clear.

“Why can’t I talk to her?”

Jaemin’s head wanted to turn around and catch another glimpse but Haechan didn’t move his hand from his face yet.

“You might, I promise. But only when I say so.”

“Haechan and I can shapeshift and become invisible but you can’t and we won’t be around to babysit you all the time. Do your part and stay out of trouble.”

"You look mean,” Jaemin mumbled.

"I am. Now move."

__________

A breath.

A deep and heavy breath.

He was hearing it inside his skull. His own irregular breath inside his own skull.

Then a loud ringing suffocated every other sound in Doyoung’s ears. Like tinnitus, he thought, so used to elaborate information by classifying it into boxes.

The man was looking at his hands as if they were not his, fingers gripping the defibrillator pads, watching how the chest underneath them rose and fell.

Again.

And again.

A machine. The defibrillator and Doyoung.

And that body as well.

But it was too broken to be fixed.

And when he barely heard the nurse’s question he straightened his back. “Time of death,” he inhaled, his hands now uncovering the wristwatch, “2:41 am,” he exhaled.

__________

Doyoung felt it inside his hands, under the skin.

It was uncomfortable.

He looked at his left palm and wished it trembled.

"A surgeon," the announcement came in the form of a hard pat on the shoulders.

Doyoung blinked surprised and put his glasses back up on the nose.

"Great hands," the professor shook them with vigour, his eyes wide open and intense. "Steady," the old man continued his litany of compliments.

Doyoung let him wiggle his arms for a few more seconds before sighing as another student grabbed the professor's attention.

The young boy looked down at his hands as well after the man turned his back.

His eyes scanned every line in his palms as if seeing them for the first time.

"Those hands will do big things in the future" and Doyoung now, shoulders heavy, moist fringe patted on his forehead in the humidity of the terrace, felt like cutting his hands off.

Yes. Big things.

Like playing with life and death.

Didn't you just kill a man? he asked his hands, lower lip trembling instead of his steady fingers. Huh? and you're fine?

Doyoung tightened his fists with disgust and punched the air while letting them fall with force to his sides.

The rain intensified and he stepped in the front further until feeling the cold and heavy drops hit his face. Their sound was chaotic and it calmed Doyoung's heart.

Again.

I can do it again. I've done it before.

I do it again.

I can get over it.

He opened up his hands under the rain until he started to not feel his fingertips anymore.

Then he walked back inside the hospital.

__________

When you had to deal with the first dying patient, you were paralyzed.

It was very early in the morning. Your head was still full of the dreams you had just a while ago. Your heart was full of life and excitement for finally being able to work in the field.

"Get your shit together."

That voice startled you.

Doctor Kim, the most ruthless and cold person you've ever met, was your supervisor as an intern.

You looked up at him and caught his dark eyes on that spectrally pale face.

You just moved. You had no idea what you were doing. Terrified, you let your body work automatically.

Doctor Kim was calm and efficient while your whole mind felt out of place.

Oh, God. Oh God, please.

And when his voice finally reached your ears as if from far away you sunk down on your knees.

"Good job everyone."

The kindest thing he has ever said to his interns.

The other vaguely kind thing was his introductory discourse.

"I know that interning at the ER is dreadful, but that's life."

He was staring you all down, a short line of fresh out of med school trembling kids, no one having the courage to meet his eyes.

"You have to be ready to see all sorts of things here. Okay, let's go."

And that was it.

The encouragement of his introductory discourse.

You'll feel like shit here, welcome.

You hated him and you swore to yourself that you won’t behave the same.

Ever.

He was like a souless machine, walking around and tending to his duties. Lost in thoughts as your eyes scanned his figure walking busily around the hospital, you actually wondered if he had feelings at all.

The first time you saw Doctor Kim actually show some type of sentiment, was when he exited the surgery room one day.

You were walking around with the others and checking on the patients when he walked through the corridor like a storm. It was unclear what type of feeling that was but it made you unable to stop staring at his side of the face and back as he entered his office.

The anaesthetist came out soon after, slowly and sighing deeply.

And then you understood.

You've lived many of those days afterwards until you had to welcome your own row of interns.

You smiled and did a nice short welcoming discourse.

And at that moment you, unfortunately, got what Doctor Kim meant when he was brusque with you in the beginning.

It took you all three years of residency to finally get it: there were no actual right words to tell the students and there was no point in giving fake hope that everything is going to be alright.

Still, there was no point in being a rude ass like him. So you at least smiled kindly and encouraged your students.

God knew they needed it even more now.

You've never spoken much to Doctor Kim besides what was needed or the routine good morning sir and the short morning he would answer with.

So it was strange that on the first day of your career as a real surgeon, after your hands and those of Doctor Kim near each other worked, barely moving, his muffled voice ordering the tools, your muffled voice doing the same, you hugged him.

You hugged him that day for no reason besides the overwhelming feeling of being alive.

Doctor Kim, after every surgery, good or bad, would always walk out on the terrace.

You followed him that night and stopped behind his frame. You had to talk to someone about what just happened and he was the only one who might understand.

He was facing the city lights and the wind breeze ruffled his hair. He didn’t care to push it off his forehead.

"You did well today," he said quietly without looking at you.

Oh, you blinked fast.

Your first surgery was a success but your heart was beating so fast that you couldn't understand your feelings.

Were you happy? Were you about to cry? Did you want to scream and jump? What did you want?

But Doyoung just complimented you.

So again, you let your body work automatically and you looked at yourself, as if going through depersonalization, timid feet filling the space between you and Doctor Kim, your hands touching his waist and going around it until meeting each other on his stomach. You placed your head on his shoulders and closed your eyes.

"I was so scared," you whispered.

Doctor Kim's body was stiff, no reaction from his posture, no words coming from his mouth.

Was he shocked? Was he wondering what the hell were you doing? Was he about to tell you to get your shit together again like that first time three years prior?

But he didn’t do any of these things.

He sighed once and you imagined him closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth of your body.

Even if for a moment. Even if it was all in your head and he actually hated it.

Then he took a step forward and you had to let him go.

And when he turned around and placed one palm on your shoulder without looking at you in the face, you remained alone on the terrace, breathing the cold air deeply and longing for his hands to hold you a little longer.

__________

Doyoung didn't speak to you again after that night.

Nor did he look at you once.

While you found yourself staring at his nape every time he walked around. Or turning your head as if following the trail he left behind.

You couldn’t wear perfume in the hospital but it was as if Doyoung did because he’d pull your senses towards him by something invisible.

As if that first touch you shared connected you to him in obscure ways.

“Here’s the coffee that you asked for, sir.” You entered his office after his dry “come in”.

His expression was priceless and for a moment you felt the urge to look behind you and see if there were a ghost scaring him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Bringing you the coffee?”

“I asked a student to do it, not you. You’re a surgeon.”

Your lips were dangerously trying to form a smile while you placed the coffee on his desk.

“Why does it matter? I am free while those students are busy learning how to be doctors.”

“You think that just because you hugged me once when you were emotionally unstable, now we’re friends?”

That question was so sudden and cold to make you snap your head upwards.

His eyes were darker than usual and you almost gulped.

“No, sir.”

Your voice came out as a tiny exhale and if he felt sorry for his sudden and out of place tone, you couldn't see it on his face at all.

"I was just being friendly as all colleagues would," you added a new note to your own tone, trying to perhaps make him feel guilty.

"You can give me up."

His reply shut you up and you furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

"I'm saying," he spoke slowly, "that I don't want to be friendly with you. Now, please leave."

________

"I'm going to fucking kill him!" you threw your head back to drink your espresso shot as if it was alcohol and slammed the paper cup back on the counter.

Jaemin sighed pouring sugar into his coffee.

"Why did you even try? He's a jerk."

The man sipped on his drink slowly, the warmth of it misting his glasses.

“I just-” you huffed, crossing your arms on your chest. “We’re colleagues. It made sense for him to be a piece of shit with us when we were interns but now? ‘I don’t want to be friendly with you’” you mocked his deep voice. “Who the fuck does he think he is? I swear I’ll accidentally stab him with a knife!”

“Hm. Do you like him?” Jaemin asked with an unimpressed tone.

You almost grabbed the coffee from Jaemin’s hands and threw it in his face.

“Are you insane? What does that mean? Why would I like him? Kim Doyoung? Me-” you pressed your index on your chest, “liking that asshole? I hate his guts! I can’t believe you said something like this! What’s to like about him?”

Jaemin felt his fringe move around his forehead at your intense voice as if it were wind.

“No need to get so worked up about it. You’re just talking so often about him lately. Also, he’s objectively good looking. He’s also smart. I understand.”

“He’s the ugliest man I’ve ever laid my eyes on! And he’s an idiot! And I don’t talk about him! I have no idea what you’re all about.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes and finished the drink.

“Talking of ugly. What’s that shirt you’re wearing?” you asked.

The man’s head snapped down to look at it. “What’s wrong with it?”

You chuckled once. “Where did you buy it?”

“It’s a normal Polo.”

You laughed even harder. “A Polo you say? And what’s that? A knock off Holo?”

“What’s Holo?”

Jaemin’s face was genuinely confused and it amused you even more.

“Are you getting enough sleep? You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“Or,” he relaxed his expression, lifting one index up, “I come from an alternate universe.”

You chuckled once and hit his shoulder lightly as a greeting, liking his new joking side. “See you later then, alternate universe Jaemin.”

__________

Doyoung wanted to hit his head on the desk.

Your expression, hurt and shocked because of his stupid remarks made his heart tingle in a very uncomfortable way.

One thing was being severe and one thing was being rude for no reason at all.

But the thing is that you were everywhere and he hated it.

Doyoung hated that you were trying to get under his skin.

Like a scent. Like some kind of drug.

He’d scrub his hands and forearms even harder before going inside the surgery room as if with the water and soap he could get rid of the feeling of your arms around his torso under the rain too.

What were you even thinking? Asking for reassurance? From him? Reassurance from the most hated man in the whole hospital? What did you even expect? Why would you even try?

What a reckless person.

He noticed it the first time he saw you as well.

Eyes wide with curiosity and surprise, looking around the ER like it was the best place in the world. Doyoung hated your happiness but he also hated the fact that he would have to assist that light slowly die out with time.

Or at least he thought that would happen.

Days after days, months after months, he paid attention like a scientist looking at his object of study, taking mental notes and registering results. Doyoung would jolt with secret joy when his theories would reveal themselves to be true but then, like a rollercoaster, he’d feel weighed down with grief seeing you in the same state as his one.

Until he didn’t know what to desire to see anymore.

Until one day he lifted his eyes, head full of a soliloquy towards you. “How are you today? Tell me you got better. Tell me you still have your light because no one needs too many black holes in here.”

Until he realized that he couldn’t remember anything about his life before you.

And when you hugged him that day, he felt proud. For your success and your light.

You were a star and he bathed into that warmth for a little before remembering he was still a black hole and black holes attract stars until engulfing them whole with no turning back.

_________

“Why are you always around?” he blinked annoyed.

You straightened your gown that shifted after bumping into him and sighed loudly.

“In case you forgot, I work here.”

Doyoung sighed.

“This is the farthest yard from where you’re always playing with your friends.”

“I had business coming here.”

“What business?”

“That’s my business.”

Doyoung’s corner of the mouth twitched.

“It’s our business.”

“Are you a communist?” you placed your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side.

“I’m your superior. What are you doing here?”

A few nurses whispered passing you by and you cleared your throat, trying to relax your face muscles. Doyoung rolled his eyes once upon seeing your new fake cordial expression.

“Apparently I’m doing such a good job that Mr Jung wanted to compliment me,” you raised your chin.

“Mr Jung?”

“Yes.”

His nostrils widened as if he had too much air to inhale and didn’t have time to get it little by little.

“He doesn’t just summon people to compliment them. Stay away from him.”

You scoffed incredulously at his innuendo.

“Are you hearing yourself?”

“Very well. Get back to work now.”

“Are you perhaps jealous?” the words slipped from your mouth before you could stop yourself.

But Doyoung, to your biggest surprise, smirked a little, lifting his eyebrows once.

“And if I were?” he asked, then walked around you, leaving you still for long moments in the corner of the corridor before being able to walk again.

_________

“And then he said, “and if I were?”

Jaemin gulped his food and chuckled. “I can’t imagine that.”

“I know right? Was he crazy?” you asked with your mouth full, swinging your knife.

“Maybe the director does have eyes on you. And-” he leaned in mischievously, avoiding your cutlery, “that’s why he acts as if he hates you. Because he has feelings for you.”

You chuckled nervously.

“He hates you too!”

“He doesn’t even know I exist,” Jaemin shrugged.

“Hey, Jaemin.”

“Like once I asked him something and he thought I was a patient and when I said that I’m actually-”

“Jaemin! I’m pretty sure I’ve just seen someone looking like you pass that door just now.”

The young man turned around quickly, right in time to see himself exit the food hall.

“Damn,” he laughed for a few moments. “Someone else copied my hairstyle. I guess I’m not that unnoticeable as I thought.”

You opened your mouth to comment on that since you were pretty sure it wasn’t only the hairstyle that the man copied when Doyoung approached your table like a storm scaring the shit out of you.

“What is it now?” he asked, eyes piercing through you.

You let out a long “uhhh” before talking, staring him up and down.

“Are you talking to me?”

Doyoung scoffed then sighed. “A doctor told me you were urgently looking for me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Who?”

“Do I look like someone who knows people’s names?”

Jaemin shook his head.

“Well, I don’t need you,” you let him know.

Doyoung sighed again and the long look you exchanged made Jaemin awkwardly chuckle once.

“You can sit down with us for lunch, sir,” he offered and you inhaled sharply, kicking his leg under the table.

Doyoung looked firstly at you then at Jaemin then at you again as if not believing he was actually talking to people like you.

But the tray in his hands was getting heavy and there were no other empty tables.

He walked around Jaemin and sat down near him.

Then he rolled his sleeves and started to eat in silence.

But only for a moment.

“What?” he asked as you were both staring at him with hanging open mouths.

“It’s our first time seeing you eat,” you whispered.

Doyoung gulped the food. “I’m putting on a show for you guys. I’m a vampire that doesn’t need food.”

“See!” you hit Jaemin’s hand as if catching his attention. “He’s making jokes!”

Jaemin leaned back in his chair as if a little afraid.

“So you talk about me instead of working,” Doyoung commented.

His eyes were on you and you suddenly realized what you’ve just said.

“No,” you quickly grabbed your glass and sipped the water.

Doyoung looked at Jaemin and the young man secretly nodded a little.

And for the first time in years, you saw Doyoung smile.

Like a full-on smile. A big open smile with all the teeth out.

You blinked fast and before realizing your own lips were stretched in a smile too.

He was breathtaking.

You wanted to run away but also crash into him. You were at the top of the world and down in the dumps.

__________

The grunt you let out after hitting a hard surface resonated in the whole hallway.

For the second time.

"You are always where you shouldn't be."

You lifted your pained eyes while massaging your shoulder just to see Doyoung do the same.

"Where am I and where am I supposed to be then?" you asked.

"Around me and you should be far away from me."

"And if I say that I'm doing it on purpose?"

Doyoung's pupils trembled.

"To make you mad," you explained, the little smile creeping on your lips making him tighten his.

“You’re trying to make me mad?”

In your head, all of the conversations you would have with Doyoung sounded fun and risky in a good way.

In reality, you realized, it was so overwhelming that you felt your limbs shake.

“I’m joking, sir.” His intense eyes made you look over the windows.

“You don’t like to look at me in the eyes?” his voice was mellifluous just as his movements, getting slowly closer to you.

“Your eyes make me uneasy,” you replied honestly.

Doyoung tilted his head to the side, curious, inviting you to say more. You looked at him again.

“As if they don’t know fear,” your voice was tiny.

A little smile curved the man’s lips. “Oh, but they know what fear is.”

“And what is that?”

“What you’re feeling right now.”

"I am not afraid," you whispered.

"Then why are you stepping back?"

“I am not stepping back.”

Yet the air got softly knocked out of your lungs as you felt the wall on your shoulder blades.

Doyoung didn't reply and just got as close as to lightly brush your lower lip with his knuckle.

"You're cute when you pout," he whispered, eyes smiley under the strands fallen from his styled fringe.

You opened your mouth to talk but he walked away, leaving you alone and with an abnormally beating heart.

Again.

__________

If Doyoung’s newly humorous side was something interesting to share with Jaemin, his newly flirtatious side was something you felt the need to keep a secret.

Heated up, you walked the corridors like a storm.

Kim Doyoung?

Did your body really react that way towards Kim Doyoung?

Pulse throbbing in places you didn’t want to think of?

Because of Kim Doyoung?

Face buried in your wet hands, the cold water running in the sink, you imagined telling this to your younger self.

Then you lifted your head and turned it off, raising your gaze to look at your dilated pupils in the bathroom mirror.

_________

Doyoung didn’t care about people much.

Hours upon hours of surgery, he only needed to see his colleagues’ hands and hear their breaths while desperately trying to save yet another life. How they looked without the caps and masks was not something of interest to him, especially knowing superfluous details like their names.

Yet, when he briefly noticed the eyes of the second surgeon entering the room, Doyoung furrowed his eyebrows.

Those were not your eyes and those were definitely not your hands in the latex gloves.

And for the first time, he needed to know who that person was.

“I’m Lee,” the man whispered.

“I didn’t know you were on schedule today.”

“Yeah, heard about it last minute as well.”

Were you avoiding him?

If Doyoung’s body could show tremor, he’d had trembling legs under the desk he sat at after the surgery, and if he’d had the habit to bite his nails, he’d be ferociously eating them by now.

Unfortunately, he was stoically sitting in his office, elbows pressed into the hard iron surface, veins missing adrenaline but aggravated eyes.

Walking the corridors while people took a step back to make him pass, looking away when he’d look at them and whispering angrily behind his back, was a bliss.

The protection shielded Doyoung like a fuzzy blanket even if it sometimes felt itchy at night when he found himself the most lonely.

So when you did the same, passing him by as if hating him, he surprised himself at the sudden discomfort. Especially after

well,

after that.

He wasn’t sure himself what it was but it must have been something if it made you uncomfortable enough to not show up to a surgery.

He lifted the corner of his blanket for a moment and he fucked up.

__________

“Y/N.”

You stopped in place.

And so did most people around you.

Many found Doyoung scary but also interesting to observe when his spite wasn’t directed at them.

What did she do? you could almost hear the whispery words passing from ear to ear, amused voices, grateful for not being in your place.

“See me in my office,” Doyoung ordered after you slowly turned around.

His voice was low and no one could have heard it if the whole yard didn’t just collectively hold its breath.

“Yes, sir.”

“You all are surely not working enough if you have time to be useless,” his voice sounded louder and clean all of a sudden. “Do you want some hours assigned?”

Like a spell, everyone looked around and the buzz filled your ears back, leaving yourself and Doyoung the only still figures.

Then he moved as well, the swoosh of his cloak touching your hand when he passed near you.

You inhaled deeply and followed him.

_________

“I am sorry.”

You wished you’d accepted his offer to sit down because that single sentence floored you.

“For what?” you asked with a tiny voice.

“I know I often say things that I don’t mean. And I know that I might have made you feel uncomfortable. So I apologize.”

His eyes were round and filled to the brim with such sincerity to make you swallow hard.

“You don’t have to apologize. It was necessary to make me who I am,” you minimized.

Doyoung looked away for a brief moment. “I mean the corridor incident.”

You blinked at him.

“I made a mistake,” he added.

The first thing that came to mind was the urge to use that to your advantage.

Scold him. Make him feel guilty.

Kim Doyoung making a mistake.

Exhilarating.

The power suddenly surging in your veins went to your head so you suppressed the smile that so desperately wanted to bloom on your lips.

“Yes.”

His expression darkened even more at your reply and his adam apple moved as he swallowed. He actually hoped it wasn’t the case.

“I’ll make sure to keep the surgery schedules separated so you won’t feel uncomfortable working with me. You could have asked me first though before changing it yourself.”

The excitement died out with these words.

“What are you talking about?”

“Thursday’s surgery.”

“I was told you appointed another person yourself.”

“I did not.”

“Well, I didn’t either.”

“So-”

“It’s not like I’m trying to avoid you, no. But if you-”

“I’m not trying to avoid you either. But you said I made you uncomfortable, so-”

“I was messing with you.”

He finally went silent.

“You looked so guilty that I wanted to get a little revenge,” your voice came out a timid whisper.

Doyoung sighed, closing his eyes a little, then he stood up.

“Did I seriously cause you that much pain all of this time?” he walked towards you as if actually concerned.

“You made me cry almost every day.”

He opened his mouth like a fish before closing it. The shocking confession made him lift one hand to cup your face.

You both looked at it with fluttering eyes as if it wasn’t his.

He tried to put it away quickly but you pressed your palm on it to keep it in place.

“I’m joking. I only cried a few times.”

Doyoung’s pupils danced around just like his brain trying to process the information you were giving him. His face, confused and not knowing anymore what was a joke and what wasn’t, amused you a lot.

“I’m sorry I’ve been harsh. I’ve been-”

“A jerk.”

He gulped, his thumb slowly brushing your cheekbone.

That little gesture made you close your eyes for a moment. And when you opened them, you just leaned in and placed a quick and chaste kiss on his closed lips.

“If the corridor thing was a mistake for you, I just did one too. Don’t be too hard on yourself. We can pretend nothing of this happened."

You let his hand go and moved to take a step back just to feel his hold on your face tighten.

Pulling you towards him again, he added the second hand.

His lips were not closed anymore, but very much open to welcome your lower lip between them.

Your hands flew to his hair and pulled him towards you too. He hummed and you whined. And when you both needed air, you let yourselves go, panting against each other’s lips.

A little smile curved your lips, eyes unable to look up. Fingers on his neck, you let them slowly descend to his chest and you took a step back.

You took your lower lip inside your mouth for a moment, as if still trying to taste him and walked a few steps back.

Doyoung followed you, unable to let your body go until you touched the door. His eyes were blown out and he kissed the corner of your mouth again, and again, and again, until kissing you fully on the lips for the second time. Hands on the glass behind your head, you heard his nails grating at it slowly as you let your tongue twirl with his. Then you breathed out and he couldn’t do anything else than just moving his arms away for you to slowly open the door and leave in silence.

After the door closed, Doyoung pressed his forehead on the cold window.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, the fuzzy blanket he carefully wrapped himself with all of those years slowly slipping away to his feet.

__________

It didn't surprise you to see Doyoung pretend nothing happened between you as you passed each other in the corridors.

But his avoidance felt weirder than usual, even to external eyes, as if something happened indeed and he tried so hard to conceal it.

"Perhaps it's the 5th coffee talking right now, but doesn't Doyoung look weird?"

Jaemin asked lazily as he rested his body on one elbow placed on the little resting room counter. Said man passed in front of the open door and the furtive look he took of you was interesting enough for someone bored like Jaemin to notice.

You shrugged, quickly stirring the sugar in your own coffee.

"Hm?" your friend smiled at your silence, getting closer.

You sipped the drink.

"Hmmm?" Jaemin put his face into yours.

"Oh my God, get away," you tried to push him away.

"You had sex."

You spat the little coffee you still had on your mouth. Jaemin giggled and took a step back before it could land on his own.

"We did not have sex! What's wrong with you?"

"Okay. So you at least kissed," he looked up to you under his wiggly eyebrows as he handed you a few napkins.

"We-," you wanted to deny but your lips formed a frustrated smile instead. "Shit. I can't believe it either."

"Wow."

"He was- so delicate," you murmured.

Jaemin winced amused.

"But also intense you know? Like it felt-"

"Okay wait. I didn't ask for a full-on description," he made a puking expression at you.

You lightly hit his arm.

"I was just so surprised. I've never seen this side of him."

"Him liking people?" Jaemin giggled. “Yeah. That’s weird.”

__________

"So it's done. We're done. Let’s get the fuck out of here. Seeing myself around is creeping me out."

Haechan sighed, rolling around in his chair. "Not so quickly. They only kissed."

Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows.

"They have to confess," Jeno explained with a sleepy voice, sprawled on his own chair.

"But they love each other."

"They have to say the words."

Jaemin put his hands on the hips. "That's so stupid."

“Tell this to Doyoung. This is what he wrote in the contract,” Haechan mumbled amused, patting his chest where the Book was snuggly packed near his heart.

Jaemin grabbed another chair and sat backwards on it, resting his chin on the folded arms.

“So you know the job is done when they confess? What if they break up afterwards?”

“It has never happened before.”

“And what if it does happen?”

Jeno opened one eye. “Don’t manifest doom.”

“I’d probably have to come back and get them together again,” Haechan replied.

“I still don’t know why you’re doing this. Can’t you just recede from that contract?”

Haechan sat up properly and grabbed his water bottle. “And do what? Go back to the pits of hell?”

His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“I’ve never had this much fun in a very long time.”

__________

He brought it upon himself, he could admit that.

Ignoring you was more difficult than he anticipated and the first reaction he managed to put out when you talked back to him in front of all of the other surgeons was his usual skin cutting one.

You didn’t like it, he could see it.

You’ve never liked it and, honestly, Doyoung could not think of a single person that enjoyed being on the other side of his table.

Perhaps you were getting a little comfortable with him though because you leaned back in your chair and smiled. As if for once he couldn’t get to you.

It made him even more eager to scratch that nonchalance.

So he did.

Until the meeting was over and he got back to his office with a weird sensation on his shoulders. It somehow tasted like defeat.

And when you opened his door with a loud bang and got in, he inhaled and took a few steps back, imitating the steps you took forward.

You pushed him down on the chair, your gazes mixed together just like your breaths as you leaned down.

Only the sheer anticipation of you touching him made him lose his mind a little.

One hand on his thigh and the other going down from his lips to his extended neck and chest, dragging your nail on his shirt until reaching his stomach and belt.

Then you hit one of his feet to the side with yours, making him open his legs even wider.

He jolted and you could visibly see the way his breath stopped for a moment.

"I don't think someone else tried to put you in your place before."

Your voice was dark and his eyelids fluttered before his pupils could fall on the way your palm brushed his crotch. It twitched under his dress pants and he inhaled deeply.

"Unfortunately, it has to be me."

"We're at work-," he tried to speak but the words died in his throat as you cupped his balls.

"Sorry? Didn't hear that."

"Shit Y/N-," Doyoung closed his eyes, jaw muscles tightening as you gently massaged him.

"Hmm, Doctor Kim is at a loss of words?"

You cooed, leaning down even more until almost brushing his lips with yours.

"So cold and composed while you spit venom all day. I really want to see you lose your mind for once."

He opened his eyes right when he started to pant lightly and you gulped upon seeing his dark gaze.

"You'll regret this."

"Can't wait to feel regretful."

"Be careful."

"Don't want to."

His smile grew suddenly wicked and it threw you off as he suddenly stood up, grabbing your wrists and pushing you gently backwards.

"You’ve been loving fighting with me lately. I think that you just need to get laid."

You smiled. "Do you want to help me with that?"

Doyoung scoffed once. "I can't stand you."

"Then sit down."

He put his tongue inside the cheek, staring at your raised chin.

Then his hands suddenly crept around you and grabbed your ass. They squeezed, pulling your hips towards his, making you pant and palm his chest in the meantime. Body pressing on his and his low voice buzzing into your ear made you light headed.

"Arguing with you turns me on so fucking much."

You gulped and noticed the way Doyoung’s eyes fell on your open mouth.

“This is a very pretty shade of lipstick. Makes me want to ruin it.”

His thumb opened up your shocked lips even more by tugging at the lower one, your eyes getting hazy from his expression cutting you in half.

“Suck.”

The order made your legs buckle a little. Your pupils trembled when you slowly let your tongue touch his fingertip. Doyoung got impatient and pushed it until it was all in. You fought the urge to gag and just whimpered, grabbing his shirt into your fists as he watched you hollow your cheeks on it.

“I’ve always wanted to make a mess out of you,” he murmured, his other hand cupping your face and feeling your jaw, going down to your neck and wrapping it into its warmth. You raised your face to give him more space and your hooded eyes trying to look at him as he pressed around your throat made him smirk.

“You like that?” he watched your squirming body trying to get closer to him. He took a step back and rested his hips on his desk, pulling at you until you felt his thigh between your legs.

“What a slut,” he took out his thumb and spread the saliva on it on your lips. “Bet you wanted to suck me off under the desk, didn’t you? Fuck your superior?”

You started to breathe through your mouth, the hand wrapped around your throat making it difficult for you to form any thoughts.

“Or you wanted me to bend you over it?” he murmured, eyes glazing over your breast, his free hand painting one line from your collarbones to the cleavage of it. And when he suddenly squeezed one, feeling its softness in his palm, you almost cried out and dug your fingers into his shoulders.

“Yes, sir.”

Doyoung’s corner of the lips lifted as if curiously surprised.

“And if I don’t do any of those things?” his eyes were on your face now and it made you want to hide away or just beg him to just please do all of those things.

“What are you going to do?” he asked again.

The pool of wetness inside your panties was so embarrassing that you pressed your forehead on his shoulder.

"Then just let me go," you whispered in a tiny voice.

"You're free to g-" he caressed your jaw with one thumb.

"No. I hate it," you went on, lifting your gaze on him, and he exchanged the look, slightly taken aback.

"I dream about you every night. It's not about sex, it has never been just about it. Everything about you makes me go crazy. I hate it and I want you to just let me go.”

Doyoung blinked and cupped your face with both hands.

You just breathed out, ignoring the little voice screaming inside your mind to shut up, palming the back of his hands with yours, suddenly unable to raise your eyes on him.

"I just can't understand and I hate being like this," you added after a quick gulp.

The man opened his lips and you noticed the way you started to breathe in unison.

"There's something so darkly attractive about you," the tiny sigh coming out of your lips made their way on Doyoung ones and he licked them once, his own breath warm on your skin.

"No matter how much I try to know you, there's something that escapes me. I can't pinpoint you and it keeps me up at night."

Doyoung gulped and his hands twitched as they palmed your arms, going down to your hips and pushing you down, gently.

You gasped silently, your core so swollen that the feeling of the friction of your bodies as you rubbed on him could have been enough to make you orgasm.

"Sir-," you found the force to talk but he took his tongue out and you just dove in, catching it inside your mouth and sucking on it the way you sucked on his finger. Your eagerness made his hold even tighter, guiding your body rolls, loving the way you squirmed in his arms.

When you pulled away to whine he raised one hand to bury in your hair.

"You haunt me too," he confessed. "Sometimes I feel so pulled towards you to make me question everything I know about myself."

Your eyes fluttered and your exposed throat looked so vulnerable in Doyoung's eyes to make him lean in and bite on it.

The little moans escaping your lips caressed his ears and when he licked the spots you shivered, your hips not stopping for a second.

It was intoxicating and you didn't dare to speak again but your thoughts were seeping through all of your pores.

"I want you to tell me what you want me to do," you whispered, words broken.

"Don't cum," Doyoung ordered and it snapped something in you.

Your breath grew irregular and he chuckled.

With a little groan, you forced your hips to still but he looked down and clicked his tongue, pushing his thigh upwards and making you bounce on it a few times.

"Don't stop."

"But you said-"

"Don't cum and don't stop."

"I can't last," you mewled, twitching against his body and he pouted.

"Baby girl can't keep that in?"

You shook your head, feeling all dizzy as his hands squeezed your asscheeks, making you rub against his leg again.

"But I said what I said. Are you going to be a bad girl?" he accompanied his last word with a harsh slap on your ass that made you inhale through your teeth.

"Sir- I am begging you."

His hand dropped under your skirt that moved to your thighs in a single movement, the coldness of it on your hot clit making you cry out.

He hummed amused, slowly pressing into you and circling your sensitive bud until your legs started to twitch.

"If you want to cum," he stopped, "you'll have to do whatever I say. Is this an agreement?"

You nodded quickly, so close to orgasm that you started to ride his fingers by yourself.

He retrieved his hand and pressed it on your stomach, making you step back until you barely could keep your balance.

"You know where I live, right?"

You nodded confused.

"See you later then," he smirked and gestured to leave the office.

You inhaled deeply, the arousal so high that you considered just finger fucking yourself in front of him.

"Cruel," you whispered.

"And you love it," was his amused reply.

__________

Timid feet in front of Doyoung's entrance door, you questioned if you actually lost your mind.

Were you really willing to go this far for a single orgasm?

Or multiple, you considered.

Okay. Well, perhaps it was all worth it in the end.

Your eyes darted upwards to take in the view of his house.

The windows were lit on the first floor and it looked like a place you'd love to spend your life in. It was too huge for a single person anyway.

When he opened the door after the ring announcing your arrival you didn't expect to see him in casual clothing. It looked so off that for a moment you couldn't speak, eyeing his feet in warm socks instead of rubber shoes.

Then you hit yourself in your mind. Of course, he won't wear his doctor gown at home.

"Good evening," you finally smiled and he eyed your body with a relaxed gaze, stopping when noticing the bottle of wine you carried in your hands.

“Good evening,” he gestured to you to come in and you walked the distance from the doorstep to the hallway. His hands draped your shoulders and you sighed when he took your wet coat away.

You put in a lot of effort in your appearance, choosing the right clothing and accessories.

And he put a lot of effort into arranging his house for you, lighting up the right candles, you noticed after he indicated a room to the left.

Yet all you wanted to see was him.

And all he wanted was to see was you naked.

Venturing in slowly, you turned around looking at what you figured out was the living room. With the corner of your eyes, you saw the grey of Doyoung’s sweatpants disappear upstairs and it suddenly got silent, safe for the crackle coming from the chimney and the hard rain hitting the windows. You took off your shoes and cautiously walked on the dark wine-coloured rug, close enough to warm yourself. A black glassy mirror was hung on the wall in front of you showcasing the pitiful state you were in because of the storm. Then you looked at the piles of books scattered around your feet placed down in a chaotic path leading to the velvet couches behind you as if someone read them while circling the room and suddenly let them fall on the ground when bored. You followed the spines with your gaze trying to figure out the language they were written in when two feet made their appearance in your peripheral vision, making you snap your head up.

He approached you with a little smile, getting closer and closer like a black cat.

New thick energy made it difficult for you to breathe too deeply so you resorted to short inhales and exhales especially after he stopped so close to you.

Doyoung's hands wrapped yours as he took the wine away and placed it on the coffee table on his left. Then he sighed and you found yourself shivering under his gaze.

"Take this off," he lightly felt your shirt's material with his fingertips.

What? You inhaled, mind buzzing at how easy it was this time. No dinner and fancy courtship?

He did look like someone that'd rather take you into seclusion and have you for himself as quickly as possible though.

With slightly trembling fingers that you'd never get in the surgery room, you started to unbutton your top. Doyoung tilted his head to the side with a little smirk as if enjoying the show.

And when you actually found yourself with only your bra on he smiled, even more, eyes grazing your skin slowly until you felt a heatwave shake your limbs.

“This too.”

He slowly touched the bra fabric and you gulped.

“Take it off yourself.”

Doyoung chuckled once and went around your torso, unclasping it with quick and expert fingers.

You jolted and you felt your eyelids flutter as it slowly fell down your arms.

Doyoung grabbed the front part of it and dragged it down to the floor, adding it to the weird maze of books making the eccentric design of his living room.

His eyes caressed your perked nipples and you tried hard to resist the urge to cover yourself.

“Pants,” he ordered and his voice was deeper than usual.

You wavered a moment and he lifted his eyebrows once. Do it.

You inhaled and slowly opened the zip.

He bit his lower lip when you bent down to discard the piece of clothing and when you straightened your back he hummed.

“Wear this,” he gently threw a piece of fabric towards you which you caught quickly. It was soft and it smelled like him.

He looked at it, then slowly raised his eyes to meet yours, not moving a single muscle.

You inhaled in again, trying to calm your nerves, desperately wanting to ignore the way he was dressed himself. A white and see-through shirt with the deepest neck you’ve ever seen, barely covering any of his chest. You barely could see his sweatpants as well, but his bare ankles were fully on display, just like his forearms that you could catch glimpses of as he absentmindedly revived the locks blocking his pupils with one hand.

A raw playfulness made his features even scarier in the dim lighting.

“I want you wet. But not from the rain,” he explained, eyeing your confusion.

“You could have just told me to change into it and end it there,” you mumbled, buttoning the shirt up. It was deep blue and oversized, short on your thighs but hiding whatever you had to hide.

“Why? Did you hate that I made you undress in front of me?”

“It was embarrassing to stand naked like that.”

You wanted to sound offended but the pout your lips formed on its own betrayed your secret amusement.

“Nothing that I won’t see up close soon.”

His voice was a whisper that forced you to look away. You wanted to reply but he turned around walking towards the kitchen.

"Besides, I made some spicy sauce. You don't want to spill it on your nice clothes."

“Who said I was going to spill food on myself? I have steady hands.”

You walked over him, taking the plates from his hold and placing them down on the dining table yourself.

You wanted to look unbothered by him just like he looked unbothered by you, but the truth was that you just had to do something to not feel that overwhelmed.

“You don’t,” he argued following you near the table.

You scoffed lifting your head to look at him. “Excuse you? I’m a surgeon.”

“Your hands don’t look like the hands of a surgeon when you’re around me.”

You scoffed.

“I think that the biggest thing in the world is your ego.”

“You haven't seen my-”

“Don’t say it.”

He closed his mouth as the little smile he had on kept lingering on his lips.

Domestic and flirty. It was getting to your head and you hadn’t had the opportunity to sip a single drop of alcohol yet.

As if reading your mind, he grabbed the bottle of wine you brought and fumbled slowly with the cap.

"That's my favourite shirt. And I want to fuck you in it."

The shivers that travelled down your spine almost made your body twitch and your hands stopped in mid-air as you were placing the cutlery.

He smiled at you when you looked at his expression.

His lips. His eyes and cheekbones. His skin under the lights.

Fuck. You really needed a drink.

And after he popped the bottle open with a loud sound that disrupted the silence, the red wine erupted out of it, dripping off his hand up to the wrist you had your drink right off his fingers.

Doyoung’s pupils trembled as you leaned in like a cat and his lips opened to breathe better seeing you lick the drops off his fingertips. Rested with his hips on the table, it creaked when you came forward, even more, hands pressed on his open thighs and reaching for his face. You finally caught his lips in yours and you let him taste the wine on your tongue.

It was rich and slightly sour, then it became sweet as only Doyoung’s taste remained lingering on his lips.

“Delicious,” he commented after the slow kiss. “You have good taste in wine.”

“And men.”

His expression was hidden under his long fringe but you could sense that he was smirking.

Then he raised his head a bit and had a gulp out of the bottle himself.

You had the first row to the show that his adam apple moving up and down gave you. Then your eyes naturally fell to his collarbones and bare chest, his white shirt barely covering anything.

Your fingers gently darted to his skin and you palmed it, then to his prominent collar bones, feeling the warmth of his chain around his neck.

He hummed, letting his head down to catch your hand with his lips. They kissed your fingertips then he finally dove in and let you taste his tongue again, hands quick to let the bottle go and grab your body instead.

Closer closer closer you needed him more and more.

“I need to feed you dinner first,” he grabbed your wrists as your hands tried to unbutton his shirt.

“If you won’t fuck me, I can find someone else to do it,” you whispered.

His eyes tightened and he exhaled once.

The movement was so quick that your head spun and the spank that arrived at your ass made you jolt on your toes before you could lean down on the table, fingers trying to grip the tablecloth.

“Yeah? I want to see you get fucked by someone else while my name spills out of your filthy mouth.”

His voice was raspy and it made you bite your lower lip, ass eager to push back and to rub against Doyoung's crotch. He hummed at your movements and lifted the shirt up to your waist, palming your skin and looking down at the way your ass cheeks engulfed your pretty lingerie. You strained your neck upwards at the feeling of his fingers slowly caressing your lower back, feeling the lace of your panties, then you whimpered as he grabbed the material and stretched it towards him before letting it go.

"You want this little hole all filled up, don't you?" he murmured, hand sliding between your thighs to rub on the soft and thin fabric. Your legs shifted in place at the sensation and you arched your back for more. The little 'Doyoung' making him exhale.

"And I thought you'd keep calling me sir."

You tried to turn your head towards him, wondering if his suddenly absent hand meant that he wanted you to actually call him that.

But then you saw that hand around you, reaching for the bucket of ice prepared for the wine on the table in front of you. And at that moment you realized that it was for you instead - his drink for the night.

The ice cube wetted his fingers when he took it out and he first placed it on your open lips. You sucked on it for a moment, the warmth of your skin already melting it, strands of water slowly descending on your chin and inside your cleavage.

"Say 'blue' and I'll stop," his voice was deep near your ear.

You nodded breathlessly and you shivered feeling his hand hover over your back.

And when you first felt it on your spine, your fingers independently grabbed the edge of the table. Then it went down and down, forcing goosebumps out of you.

Doyoung’s palm soothed your skin, warming it up before reaching to the front to grab at your hard nipples poking through the fabric. And when the cube reached your clothed core you mewled, lifting yourself on the tiptoes.

“Shit-shit-,” you curled your neck down, jolting under his touch, wanting more of it and running away at the same time.

Your panties were all wet and you were unsure if for the ice or your own body and when Doyoung took away the cube, giving you a break by gently pressing his own wet fingers between your lips you wished for the fabric to not be there anymore.

“More?” you whined, chest rising and falling at a crazy speed.

Doyoung snickered once, his hands grabbing your sides and turning you around.

Mind hazy, you didn’t have the time to wonder where the ice cube went, the only thought roaming your head being the need to pull him closer to you.

And you did just that, wrapping his waist with your thighs after he lifted you on the table with a thud, making all the cutlery and glasses jingle.

And you clasped your fingers into his hair while his hands roamed your naked body under his shirt.

It was when he pressed his cold, open lips on yours that you finally mewled, feeling the ice cube travel from his tongue to yours.

It got smaller and you sucked on it, giving it back, hearing him hum deeply into the kiss.

Then he broke it suddenly as if unable to control himself from kissing your neck instead, biting and sucking on your skin as hard as he did on the ice cube. You rolled it on your tongue until it became nothing, finally opening your lips to moan, feeling his cold touch on your breasts as his quick fingers unbuttoned the shirt.

The material of your panties grazed your legs at Doyoung’s rough pull. You watched them fly and land on the lamp behind him.

Then you felt his fingers finally rubbing your clit and you inhaled deeply. You were so horny that you were embarrassed to admit that just a few rubs would be able to throw you over the edge.

Doyoung saw it and from his expression, he was enjoying himself maybe too much.

“Come on love, cum for me,” he murmured on your open lips. You whined, nail digging into his shoulders and you shook your head.

“You’ve been begging me for an orgasm and now you want to be a brat about it?”

His hand worked quicker and when he inserted one of his long and slender fingers inside, you actually moaned loudly.

“Sir-” the title slipped from your shaking lips and he chuckled against your cheek, pushing another one and curling them both, pressing into you and trying to find the sweetest spots you had.

“Right here?” he whispered amused.

You start swearing, moulding his biceps under your tight grip, the table and everything on it shaking at the fast pace of Doyoung’s pumping.

And then it was too much and it overflowed.

The gasp you emitted made you fall forwards. Your arms wrapped Doyoung’s body tightly as you came in spasms, legs trying hard to meet each other around his wrist but pressing into his sides instead.

Doyoung let you whine a little bit more, hand slowing down but never stopping, fucking you through your orgasms as long as he could. Then your jaw got grabbed by his other hand and he lifted your face to meet his gaze. His eyes caressed your fucked up expression before kissing your lips.

"Good girl. I know you can give me another one."

You gripped his shoulders for dear life as Doyoung's fingers came back outside to desperately rub at your over-sensitive clit.

“Doyoung-Doyoung-” you writhed in his hold before he could slip away from your arms and fall on his knees.

You’ve gotten head before, but this time, maybe for the overstimulation or your secret feelings for that man, it felt like the first time ever.

Not knowing what to grab to steady yourself as his tongue danced in circles around your engorged clit, you buried your hands in his hair. His hands pressed into the softness of your thighs just as hard and when he raised his gaze up to look at you from underneath his messy fringe, you felt like falling.

And you almost fell when he resorted to quick short licks that drove you insane, making you cum for the second time in such a short time to make you lightheaded.

The single fuck got prolonged as much as the orgasm Doyoung gave you and when he started to kiss your inner thighs, coming up towards you, on your stomach, pressing his wet open lips on your skin until meeting your breasts, you were ready to admit that you were madly in love with him.

His kiss felt as if you were underwater, unable to breathe and understand space. You felt his arms around you and suddenly you felt weightless and he carried you around until you felt the velvet of the couches underneath you and his body pressed flushed on yours. His waist got automatically wrapped by your legs again as if that were their place and they weren’t aware of it before.

He slipped his hands on your hips, grabbing your ass hard as he murmured against your lips. “Are you going to be a brat with me again?”

His voice was calm but deep as if a storm was incoming, making your knees feel weak.

“Words,” he spoke again, pressing himself a little more between your legs.

You breathed out.

“I don’t know,” you managed to say before pushing him away. He fell to the side, grip softened mostly for the surprise than your strength.

“Are you going to be a brat to me?” you asked, straddling his lap and pressing your palms on his stomach, going up on his hot skin and lifting his shirt until he couldn’t do anything else than take it off.

Then his hands found their way on your skin too, unmercifully squeezing your soft breasts. He didn’t care to be gentle and lifting himself up he sucked on your skin so hard until it was almost painful. You wrapped your arms around his torso and threw your head back, stretching out your neck. He left bites all over it, travelling down, tightening his teeth grip around your nipples, making you pant softly.

“I don’t know,” he finally replied.

He looked at you from underneath his fringe and you smiled at each other. You caressed his stomach from below his belly button and going up until reaching his collarbones and he leaned back on his elbows to support his weight. He followed your hand going down on him then his eyes shifted their focus to watch how your pelvis started to move back and forth on his sweatpants, right on top of his hard cock.

“Mm,” he exhaled as finally getting some relief and you imitated him. You placed your hands on his shoulders and closed your eyes and Doyoung flexed his thigh muscles.

He was enjoying seeing you like that, vulnerable and whiny, needy and horny, while he did nothing to help you with it and leaving you desperate.

His eyes caressed your whole body, his lips parted slightly at the sight of your breasts bouncing softly, at how you were spreading yourself on him. You felt hot and plump, your thoughts were blurry and foggy.

"Look at you," he talked. “What a cute little slut.”

You replied with a whine, locking eyes with him but not being able to do that for a long time as his gaze pierced through you, adding to the sensation his pants gave to your raw clit.

So you kissed his lips, messily and sloppily, breathing on his mouth and he finally caressed your thighs and ass, pressing you down even more and closer to him.

Your arms got tighter around his neck and he buried his face into your chest. His hair tickled your chin and you intertwined your fingers into his locks.

So close to cum, you closed your eyes and just let yourself go, your rhythm lost, your muscles aching, without expecting Doyoung's fingers to suddenly get inside of you.

You squeezed yourself onto him with a cry.

"I repeat. Are you going to behave again as you did today?" you heard him ask as his fingers pumped fast into you.

"No, no, oh fuck, please, no," you managed to answer while gasping for air.

"I'm going to-" you whimpered about to orgasm and Doyoung at that moment got you off of him, pushing you down on your back and lifting your legs around him, edging you.

"You're going to cum when I say so," he commented. "You're lucky I'm even giving it to you at all today," he added.

You bit your lower lip frustrated.

"Babe, please-" you begged.

He smiled brightly at the sudden pet name, shushing you as he began to kiss your legs from the knees down, going lightly on the inside of your thigh, making you twitch as he approached your dripping pussy. But he passed over, nudging at it with his nose just to make you jolt and kissed your lower stomach, passing his tongue on the spots he bit before and continued until reaching your lips.

Then, getting on his knees he finally got rid of his pants and underwear.

You felt your core pulsing at the sight and breathed heavily. He tugged at your legs, dragging you until the back of your thighs touched his hips and holding himself he nudged at your entrance. You let your arms fall around your head and bit down on your hand as his tip caressed your clit.

"Doyoung," you whined as your muscles jolted intermittently. You then felt his fingers drag on your leg until grabbing your knee and putting it on his shoulders he humped your folds.

You let your head fall back into the couch, exposing your neck and making your breasts tighten.

It was too much. You just wanted him to penetrate you and to make you scream.

"I want to cum so badly, please," you begged again.

But he acted as if not being able to hear from you.

Your muscles twitched in pain and you lifted yourself to meet him. He pushed you down and distanced himself.

"Behave," he warned.

You looked at his half-closed eyes and plump lips as he bit it with his teeth.

He was suffering as well. He couldn't take it anymore, you could tell.

And when you took your hand to your mouth and licked two fingers, slowly, without breaking eye contact he gasped.

You were about to suck on them, you wanted to see him going crazy, but you didn't manage to as he penetrated you right at that moment, quick and deep, with a grunt.

"Fuck," he swore picking up the pace until the wet sounds overwhelmed the storm.

_________

It was dark. The only light came from the fireplace bathing the living room with a red and yellow hue.

You were both sprawled on the rug under fuzzy blankets.

"Come sit on my face. Show me where I belong."

Doyoung’s voice was a low buzz, imitating the storm still going on as it has been the whole night.

You rolled your eyes to the side amused, ignoring his warm hand palming your knee, nudging you to come closer.

“You still want to go? I can’t cum again,” you pouted.

“But I want you to cum,” he pouted as well.

You sighed and gently got on top of him with the intent of ignoring him and finally fall asleep.

But his expression changed when you were near enough. “I want you to be completely fucked up when I’m done with you.”

You lifted one hand to cup his cheek and kissed his nose.

He blinked at you amused.

“I love it when you smile like this,” you whispered.

The dying flames danced on his face as he stared at you for a few moments.

Then you clicked your tongue.

“Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t get all dark and distant.”

Doyoung exhaled. “I am not.”

“There’s so much to be proud of, don’t you think?” Your fingers gently started to draw patters on his forehead, going down on his eyes as he closed them, then on his cheeks. He opened his eyelids again after the touch and you talked again.

“Like striving to do good. Trying. Surviving.”

His lips opened to let out a small puff of warm air. Then he hugged you tighter and hid his face in the crook of your neck.

You exhaled too, closing your eyes and lulling his exhausted soul.

“I am so proud of you,” you whispered but you didn’t know if he heard you.

_________

You woke up in Doyoung's bed.

It was huge, warm and it smelled like his laundry detergent. The sheets were soft and luscious, caressing your naked body as you shifted underneath them to look to the side.

Your eyelids fluttered and your lips turned their corners up.

Fighting the urge to squeal and hide your face inside the pillow, you resorted to admire Doyoung's sleeping face.

Resting on his stomach with raised arms thrown around his head, only his eyes and ruffled hair poked out behind his bicep and shoulder. And when he slowly opened one puffy eye you giggled and it curved, showing that he was smiling too.

"Good morning," you whispered.

Doyoung sighed once first. "It's probably afternoon."

His sleepy voice made your body heat up and without thinking you just got closer. He turned on his side and wrapped your body with his arms, pulling you closer to his chest.

"Did you sleep well?" he murmured.

"Like a baby. You exhausted me enough."

The little kiss he placed on top of your head was so unexpected to make you lift your face.

He smiled.

"You inspire so much tenderness in me,” he explained timidly.

You smiled back, resting your chest on his. His hands automatically wrapped your sides as if they've always belonged there.

"I'm glad I'm softening your edges. Now you need to behave like this with everyone else too."

"You want me to kiss the whole hospital on the forehead?"

"Metaphorically."

"Also, I thought you loved my hard edges," he purred, shifting your body to fully rest on top of his.

His hard cock deliciously poked your clit with its tip as his hands slowly made you roll on it.

You exhaled and leaned down, rubbing your lips on his as you whispered. "I do."

His smirk was lazy just like your movements.

"So you want me just like this?"

“I want you. I want everything you are. I want everything that you hide.”

Your hands caressed his chest and came to cup his face. His expression wavered and you found him so vulnerable all of a sudden to make your guts twist.

“Unleash the darkness that you have inside. Engulf me with it. I am not afraid. I want it.”

Doyoung wrapped your body tightly and pressed you down on himself even more.

"There's no darkness inside of me anymore. Not when you're around me."

__________

From “I will not vanish” - Haechan’s backstory

The heavy door opened and closed.

Doyoung looked over his shoulder to see a stranger approach him with slow feet. He raised his eyes and gave Doyoung a small nod.

The other did the same and when the stranger aligned himself with Doyoung, looking over the cold city, they both exhaled.

The silence was so deep, safe for the ambulances screaming in the distance that Doyoung found himself restless.

The stranger leaned on the rail, resting his weight on the elbows and sighed again.

“You know,” he started.

Doyoung looked at him with the corner of his eyes.

“What I like about life,” he paused, “is that you can die.”

The stranger bit his lower lip for a moment then looked over to the other. His gaze felt so heavy that Doyoung’s arms skin got goosebumps.

“Imagine being immortal,” the man continued before letting out a dry snicker.

“Around forever. A pathetic being with no reason to exist besides existence itself. Forever and forever and forever. With no purpose. Until you’d beg someone to kill you but they can’t.”

Doyoung’s fingers twitched on the cold metal of the terrace rail and for a moment his rational mind wanted to ask that stranger just what nonsense he was talking about.

But lately, Doyoung and rationality didn’t match well so he didn’t.

“Immortality sucks only if you’re the only immortal one.”

The stranger smiled bitterly. “Do you want to be immortal?”

Doyoung put his hands inside the gown’s pockets. “I’d die tomorrow.”

“But you wish immortality was a thing.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t have a job anymore,” Doyoung smiled. “But yes. I wish people didn’t die.”

“You’re very selfish.”

That remark made Doyoung frown. “How’s that selfish?”

The stranger turned around and rested his back on the rail instead.

“Why do you want people to not die?”

“Because-,” Doyoung started but didn’t know what to add. “Because it’s painful.”

“For them or you?”

Doyoung sighed. “Okay. I see what you’re doing here.”

The stranger smiled a little.

“It’s not like I think only of myself when others die. I think how unfair it is when I know they didn’t have the chance to do everything they wanted to do first.”

“And what’s that?”

Doyoung thought about it for a moment. “Just- living. Experiences. And most of them actually had enough time to do it. They just took it for granted. And it’s so- painful.”

“And what about you? If you said that you’d be ready to die tomorrow, I guess you’ve been living your life to the fullest with no regrets.”

“Actually, I don’t know if I’ve been living all of this time.”

The stranger shrugged. “Just start now.”

“You make it seem so easy.”

“Living? Hell yeah. You just need to give less fucks.”

Doyoung didn’t reply.

“If you’re ready to die tomorrow, then you should not be afraid of living.”

The stranger’s tone deepened and Doyoung looked his way.

“Who are you by the way?”

“Oh,” the stranger straightened his back and extended his hand. “I’m Haechan. Nice to meet you.”

Doyoung imitated him and shook his hand.

It was warm and in a moment so many thoughts came to Doyoung’s mind to make him breathless.

"I thought I had my life figured out and yet after meeting you I got shocked into awareness."

"You inspire so much tenderness in me."

“I became obsessed with you and it scares me.”

“You could have just told me. You could have told me that you fell apart. Instead, you acted like it didn't bother you at all.”

“You are worth the wait.”

“I can't let go of you.”

Doyoung took away his hand so quickly to almost fall backwards.

He took a few steps on the concrete of the terrace as if trying to get as far from Haechan as possible.

“You good?” the other asked but his face wasn’t mirroring his question.

Instead, a plain expression was adorning his feline features and for an instant, Doyoung felt terror.

“You’re not Haechan,” he found himself whispering.

The man in front of him cracked his knuckles once. “And who’s Haechan?”

“My friend.”

“Friend? Is someone that uses somebody else a friend?”

“He’s not using me.”

“Isn’t he now?”

The man started to walk towards Doyoung slowly, one finger on the rail, grating at the metal with his nail.

“Do you believe in soulmates, Doyoung?”

Doyoung flinched at his name on that man’s lips and started to retreat slowly.

“I do.”

“Soulmates are people that always find each other regardless of everything, aren’t they?”

“Yes.”

“And are you and Y/N soulmates if Haechan is always there forcing you together like some sort of cheap mismatcher?” the man spit out the last words.

Doyoung gulped and his brain tried to remember how he punched him in some past life and actually win. His surgeon hands would definitely get broken in a second.

“Don’t you want to break this cycle? Find your true soulmate?”

“That’s Y/N.”

“Because you say so.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your orthodox theory, Archangel.”

The man stretched his neck to the side and Doyoung didn't have the time to run away.

#doyoung #doyoung smut #neosmutcollective #nct-writers #nct smut #doyoung angst #nct angst #nct fanfiction #doyoung fanfiction #nct doyoung #doyoung scenarios #nct scenarios #soulmates collection #doyoung doctor au #nct doctor au

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years ago

Text

Bite

Pairing: Vamp!Lisa x Human!Fem!Reader

AU: Vampire

Word Count: ~ 5,564

Warnings / Misc. -- Mentions of Blood

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm alive! School has kept me crazy busy and I've had my hands full with other things as well, but I finished writing this one and I wanted to share with you lovely peeps. To everyone who stopped by to check in, and to those of you who’ve been patiently waiting, thank you endlessly. I love having you as my readers 💜

PS ~ I hope this isn't too bad for my first one shot in forever! Also, happy Lisa era. I’m so proud of our girl!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Saturday, October 31st

You look like an idiot.

The nurse uniform you have on is obnoxiously cliché; short and tattered in various places to really sell the "sexy" aspect of it, little is left to the imagination. Fake blood stains dot the flimsy material in random patterns and mat some strands of the tacky blonde wig atop your head, making you look like something out of a B-movie at best.

A bonafide, absolute idiot.

When you express that sentiment to your best friend, she just rolls her eyes and holds out one last costume for you to try on. She had a few lined up in case you didn't like her other options, and clearly that's come in handy; you've already worked through the previous picks, so she crosses her fingers as your eyes skim over this one.

"Humor me, will you?" She asks, hoping that you'll give in and at least check this last one out.

"Fine, but this is your last chance. It had better be good." You raise a pointed finger at her in warning.

"I have a good feeling about this one," she says, smiling as you take the bag from her and slip into the dressing room one final time.

Her phone chimes soon after, and she's quick to retrieve it from her pocket.

Willow: Are you guys almost here?? Jackson's been asking about you.

Your best friend bites her lip at that, nervously nibbling on it as she rereads the message to make sure she didn't imagine the last part. She's liked Jackson since middle school, and he'll be swinging by the party that you've all been invited to; that's one of the main reasons she begged you to come with her tonight.

Y/BFFs/N: Still getting ready. We'll be there ASAP tho!

Willow: Alright, we'll see you soon. Don't take all night, or else��🤛

Y/BFFs/N: Yah, cut the violence!

The sound of your best friend's soft giggling fills the air just as you manage to fasten the costume's last zipper and pull its hood over your head.

Surprise etches its way into your features as you do a spin, taking in the sight of yourself through the full length mirror of the dressing room. The outfit's red and black color schemes complement each other beautifully, giving you a powerful and sensual appeal that the other costumes didn't even stand a chance of doing. You look alluring in every sense of the word.

"Holy shit," your best friend says when you emerge, striking a pose. "You look hot!" She squeals, clapping a few times in quick succession.

There's no way you think this one looks bad.

"I think Wanda would be proud," you grin, tilting your head up and wrapping the cape around your neck.

"One hundred percent," Y/BFFs/N nods adamantly, in total agreement. The Scarlet Witch getup really compliments your features.

"Now," she starts, changing topics as she looks in the reflection of her phone's dark screen to adjust some of her hair that's gone astray. "Let's pay and then go. Willow's looking for us, and my future man's wondering where I am, too."

"Hell yeah!" You chuckle, patting her on the back. "I'll help you finally land him so you can stop pining."

You watch as she takes a moment to decide between coming up with a decent rebuttal to defend herself or agreeing with you, and you smile when she goes for the latter.

"I'd accept nothing less," she says, holding her head high like a princess. "You are my wingwoman, after all."

"And the best one in town," you add, tugging her towards the register. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the money to pay before politely handing it to the cashier.

The teenage boy takes it with a small smile, though the action looks a little comical as his upper lip gets caught on the cheap, plastic fangs he's sporting. His knock-off version of Dracula is definitely…. something… and you can tell that his managers forced him to wear it for the holiday.

"Come back and s-shhee us," he says, handing your change back. Your best friend takes it, failing to contain her laughter at his messy speech. He blushes crimson, likely cursing the plastic teeth for making him look a fool.

"We surely will," you respond, giving him a comforting smile to keep his embarrassment at bay. He nods gratefully, and you're quickly pulled out of the store by your best friend.

"Happy Halloween!" You shout over your shoulder, accompanied by the chime of the bell over the door.

"You too," he calls back, letting out a soft sigh.

---

20 Minutes Later -- The Party

Upon rounding the front of your car and stepping up onto the sidewalk outside of Willow's house, your attention is immediately caught by the numerous decorations that she put up last week.

"Huh," you mumble, gazing up at the skeleton that towers above you, standing 12 feet tall. "I think it's safe to say that this is her favorite holiday…"

"What makes you think that?" Your best friend plays, feigning ignorance as she pops up from behind a life-sized, animatronic Jason Voorhees.

"I don't know," you tut, admiring Willow's hard work a little longer. "Just a feeling."

Y/BFFs/N giggles in her unique way, making you smile at the sound as the two of you make your way up the path towards the house. You gaze down at your feet, careful to step on the stones of the walkway and avoid the motion-activated hands that scramble out of the weeds to grab unsuspecting guests.

Having known Willow your entire childhood, you've grown used to her ways.

*knock knock*

A strong, iconic synth bassline sounds off from inside, filling the otherwise quiet night around you with its catchy beat as you wait to be let in. Its sound is well known, and you almost instantly recognize it as "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics.

A few seconds later, you hear clambering from inside, followed by concerning groans and shouted apologies.

Y/BFFs/N arches a skeptical brow at you, perfectly mirroring your thoughts.

Directly after, the door swings open in a flash, and you're nearly tackled by a whizz of curly hair.

"There you guys are!" Willow shrieks, pulling the two of you close as she nuzzles her face against your cheeks.

"Yep, here we are," you struggle out, nearly being strangled in her tight grip. She responds by squeezing you even tighter, blinded by her joy at seeing you again.

After all, it's been a while since all three of you have had the opportunity to spend the night partying together like this.

"Can't… breathe," Y/BFFs/N squeaks, successfully getting Willow to release you.

"Sorry," she apologizes, stepping back. "I'm just so happy you're here."

The freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose look especially adorable with the blush she's sporting, and her shy grin makes you forget about the near-fatality you just encountered moments before.

"We're happy to be here," you reassure her, returning her smile.

Your best friend agrees from beside you, nodding her head with a happy look of her own. "Believe it or not, we've missed your weirdness." She adds, cocking her head to the side.

Willow giggles again, and her eyes crinkle up into those half crescents that could surely melt even the iciest of hearts. She's practically sunshine in human form, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes.

"Yo, Willow! Who's at the door?"

Jackson.

You feel your best friend tense beside you, and you subtly pat her leg to calm her down.

Willow falls silent, though her lips go through the beginning stages of answering him; they open and purse, but she quickly halts her reply and shuts her mouth. She knows of Y/BFFs/N's crush on him, and she doesn't want to say the wrong thing.

Plus, if the lovesick girl wants to run and hide in the bushes, Willow's silence could buy her some time to slip away.

But alas, she doesn't.

Jackson appears in the doorway a mere 5 seconds after asking his question with a beer clutched in his hand. He moves to lean against the wooden frame as his pearly smile beams at you, and Y/BFFs/N audibly swallows at the sight.

For someone who's usually so confident, she can really be shy sometimes.

"Lovely to see you, ladies," he greets, putting his free hand in front of him as he bows. His accent is modeled after that of Jack Sparrow, as is his surprisingly well designed costume.

You nod back at him. "Hey, Jackson. Long time no see."

You elbow your best friend when she remains silent for a beat too long, and the action snaps her back to reality.

"Yeah, hey Jackson." Her voice is quiet -- she doesn't trust it to refrain from cracking.

He smiles, not failing to notice the nervous aura that's quickly taken over the girl beside you. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when he gives her a curious once-over, and you take that as your cue to save her from the impending embarrassment that's lurking just around the corner.

"Alright, guys!" You clap, stepping forward. "Let's get to partying."

Her shoulders relax, and you feel her slip her hand into yours as you enter the house, squeezing twice as a silent thank you.

15 Minutes Later

Willow stands beside you in the kitchen, mixing a few things together in one of the millions of red solo cups that she bought for tonight. You sneak a peek over her shoulder at the concoction, seeing its light blue color turn purple-ish as she adds a new liquor into the equation.

In comparison to typical house parties, this one is relatively small; most of the rooms are filled with people, but it's a comfortable amount. Maneuvering around the place is fairly easy, which is always a plus when you're coexisting with sweaty, drunk people.

"Willow, love, why did you buy so many cups?" You ask, toying with the ripped plastic packaging of one of the stacks.

"You know I like to be prepared," she laughs, brushing off her major miscalculation. "Plus I can just use the rest of them at my next party."

You nod, knowing she's right. "Are you having another soon?"

"I think so. Jiu and her crew are coming back in a couple weeks, so I thought I'd surprise them with one."

You scoff, humor laced in the sound. "What, they didn't get enough partying done at their university already?"

Willow turns around, grinning at you as she hands you your drink. "Evidently campus police keep a close eye on them. Siyeon whined about that a lot when she called me."

"Sounds like her," you chuckle into your cup as you take a sip.

PFFT

"Eww, Willow! What did you put in this?!"

Your spit take didn't land on anyone, thankfully, but it did capture the attention of some people nearby. You wave a hand at them as a silent apology, and they go back to their previous tasks.

The curly headed prankster covers her mouth, though the action does a terrible job of quieting her maniacal laughter.

"You're lucky Y/BFFs/N isn't over here," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "She'd avenge me."

Willow uses a napkin to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Why else do you think I waited until she was busy with Jackson?" She asks, motioning to her lounge room across the foyer.

You look inside, spotting Y/BFFs/N holding a pool cue in her hand as Jackson sinks another shot into one of the corner pockets.

The sight reminds you of the pep talk and 2 shots of liquid courage you gave her earlier, and how she disappeared with the promise to make a move and actually talk to him. Now, she looks completely absorbed in whatever banter they're sharing, and although your violated taste buds still ache from the sickly-sweet mixture that Willow made, you wouldn't want her to be anywhere else.

You can get your own revenge.

Sneaking a glance around the kitchen, you search for something to help with your retaliation. A small package of streamers lays abandoned on the island, forgotten to be put up earlier, and you slyly grin. Their ribbons sparkle with glitter, shimmering as the multicolored party lights stream in from the living room and land on them.

It's as if the universe is putting a spotlight on them, just for you.

After side eyeing Willow one final time to ensure that she isn't catching onto your plan, you act quickly. She stands beside the counter, right where you left her, and you dart to the island to grab the streamers. Your fingertips soon gain purchase on the packaging, and you tear it open in one swift motion.

Her gaze locks onto yours just as you near her, but it's far too late for her to get away.

"Take this!" You declare, upending the baggie atop her head. She shrieks as they cascade down her body, getting caught in the creases and wrinkles of her costume as they go. A small wave of glitter tumbles out of the bag as well, coating her hair and clothes.

Boy, that'll be fun to try and get out later.

Her head slowly raises once you finish your assault and place the baggie on the countertop beside you, but the look in her eye is unlike anything you've ever seen.

"You're dead," she warns. Just as the smile drops from your face, an even larger, more sinister one begins forming on hers.

The floor creaks beneath your feet slightly as you take a step back, and you know you have to high tail it out of there if you want to evade her.

"Catch me if you can!" You shout, springing into action. You turn around and dart out of the room, gliding past numerous partygoers in the hall.

Willow's choice of footwear works in your favor, you soon realize; the sharp rapping sound of her heels pierces the air behind you, serving as a tell of how much distance is between you.

Her unstable platforms buy you a little time, and you thank the universe as you rush through the living room and back towards the foyer. You plan to cut across it and hide out in one of the bathrooms until she drops her plan for revenge.

A grin pulls at your cheeks as you skid into one of the walls, looking like a character from Scooby-Doo as you will your feet to work correctly again and get you to safety. Willow laughs behind you, joining in on the fun.

"Perfect," you mutter under your breath, spotting a clear path through the foyer. It leads under the stairs, and you can see the open door of the bathroom from where you are.

Your feet take you past a handful of drunk people, bobbing and weaving through them with ease, before you're racing towards the restroom to take cover.

Before you can make it there, though, you collide with someone rather abruptly as they step straight into your path.

Your eyes shut tightly as you brace yourself for impact with the ground, but it never comes. The person reaches out and catches you before you can hit the floor, and a soft apology slips past their lips as they scoop you up.

Upon hearing that uniquely feminine voice speak its regret again, you peek your eyes open. What you see nearly makes the woman's effort to keep you upright moot; she's so gorgeous that your legs almost give out from underneath you.

Dirty blonde locks cascade over her shoulders in soft waves, half-mussed, half-pristine from your run-in. Her doe eyes are a velvety chocolate color, and you find yourself getting lost in them. Flickers of red show in them, illuminating almost rhythmically the longer she admires you.

Are those contacts? You ask yourself. They have to be.

She seems to be just as affected by your presence as you are of hers.

"Y/N, I'm coming to get you!"

Willow does her best to sound like a villain from a 90s horror film as she clambers her way closer to you, bumping into a few people on the way. You're brought out of your stupor by her rapidly approaching footsteps, and you take a step away from the woman. Her hands fall from your waist, where they had previously been resting.

Stealing a quick look at the bathroom, you feel your stomach turn.

Damnit. Someone's in there now.

Screw this sexy stranger for distracting you. Now you'll have to deal with Willow's wrath.

"What's wrong?"

There's that voice again.

Part of you wants to brush it off and slip away quietly, but an even bigger part of you is determined to stay where you are and tell her. Something about her pulls you in, and you're having a hard time denying it.

"I need to hide. I glitter-fied my friend and now she's coming after me."

The woman's plump lips pull back in a humored smile, and she nods as a chuckle leaves her. "Right," she says, like that's a common occurrence. "I can help, if you'd like."

"How?" You ask, your brows momentarily knitting together in confusion. When she unties and opens the black cloak that's wrapped around her body, your breath catches.

"You in?" She asks, side eyeing the foyer as Willow nearly careens into the Egyptian vase that her mother bought her last year for Christmas.

You take a deep breath and hold your hand out to her just as Willow rounds the corner, and she swiftly pulls you in close before you can be spotted. She winds the cloak around both of your bodies, concealing your faces as the fur-lined hood falls atop your heads.

Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her flush up against you to further ensure your safety. She quietly grunts when she stumbles over her own feet, falling into you a little.

"Sorry," she whispers, though her third apology of the night is unnecessary. You almost want to thank her for what happened.

Especially when her warm breath fans across your right cheek, where her head is angled.

Every breath you take pushes you closer to each other, and the satin shirt she's wearing slides against your heated skin. She swallows thickly as one of your hands falls to the small of her back, testing the waters.

When she shifts a little to encourage you, you're acutely aware of the thigh that's worked its way between your legs.

When did that happen?

You bite back a sigh as she just smirks, quietly shushing you.

Willow thunders by, shouting your name and threatening to throw you into the pool when she tracks you down. You want to laugh at that, but you'd honestly welcome it right now. Some cold water would surely bring you to your senses after being led astray by this goddess in front of you.

Her footsteps grow distant as she makes her way outside, still searching.

The two of you remain as you are for a couple more minutes until you're certain that the coast is clear, and then you part. When she lowers the cloak, you look away; a deep blush has worked its way up your neck and across your cheeks, and letting her see it would surely make you die of embarrassment.

She keeps her eyes on you as she reties the cover around herself, attempting to get a read on you. The bashful aura that's befallen you is cute, no doubt, but she can sense your arousal. She can smell it on you, and the scent is beginning to drive her crazy.

You fiddle with the sleeves of your costume, readjusting them nervously.

"So, um… thanks," you say, sneaking a glance up at her.

The red hues in her eyes are even more pronounced now, and the sight makes you press further into the wall behind you -- the one that you were previously pushed up against.

"No problem," she smiles, showing off her pearly white teeth. Two of them catch your attention; a set of fangs now shine, looking alluring and threatening all at the same time.

There's only one issue: you're certain that they weren't there when you first bumped into her. When did she put them in? And why do they look so real?

The feeling of her hand landing on your forearm pulls you away from the millions of questions that're firing off in your head right now.

"May I ask your name?" She politely requests, dipping her head down sweetly.

"Y/N," you breathe out, quickly realizing that you'd do just about anything she asked you to.

"Y/N." She repeats, allowing the letters to blend in her mouth as they roll off her tongue. She looks satisfied for some reason as she says it again, trying it out.

"I'm Lisa."

"It's nice to officially meet you," you smile, reaching a hand out. Her touch is gentle but firm as she takes it, shaking it with ease.

"Likewise, beautiful."

The grin on your face only widens at the name, and you pull your hand away out of fear of what she might do next. She's already putting you under her spell, and you're sure that another touch would have you fully entranced.

She studies you with pursed lips for a moment, clearly debating on something. Her eyes flicker over the dips and curves of your body as a smirk grows on her lips.

"What are you thinking?" You question, curious but teasing.

"That I'd love to have your body on mine again."

She's bold, and she says it like the fact it is. No shame, no bashfulness. Just true, honest desire.

You bite the inside of your cheek at her bravery, silently thanking the universe for it. The likelihood of you gaining the courage to make a move is slim to none even in the best cases, and this was no exception. She already has your heart skipping beats and you've only known her a few minutes.

"How about a dance?" She suggests, quirking a brow. The look on her face disarms your defenses, and you take a deep breath before agreeing to your demise.

"That sounds wonderful."

She dips her head again, hiding her face away momentarily, and you think it's the cutest thing ever.

She's shy all of a sudden as her cool demeanor slips up a bit, and that never happens. You might just be her downfall, too.

She holds an elbow out and steps forward, allowing you to link your arm with hers and cuddle in close.

Her eyes scan across the living room as she studies it, but she's unimpressed.

Sweaty, winding bodies thrash around to some upbeat pop song that's been overplayed on every radio station in town for weeks now, and the idea of taking you there puts her off.

When a drunk boy comes into view with a dildo strapped to his forehead, her mind is officially made up.

"Let's go outside," she says, leading you through the patio doors.

A quaint gazebo sits on one side of the yard, and the dance floor that Willow's family installed a couple years ago occupies the other. Both are decorated with string lights in combinations of gold, purple, black, and orange. Other ornaments adorn the surfaces as well, and you smile when you spot a comically large spider sat atop the gazebo's roof.

"Where would you like to go?" Lisa asks, keeping her voice low. It's calm and deep, running a chill through you.

Softer music plays out here, offering a totally different vibe than inside. Some couples -- many of them introverted, assumably -- sway on the dancefloor as the DJ that Willow hired takes a sip of her drink on the raised stage. She adjusts a few switches slowly, not rushing for a second.

"Let's try the gazebo," you decide, glancing over your shoulder at Lisa. She's looking away, but you don't think anything of it as the two of you fall in step with one another on your way over.

Shit, Lisa thinks to herself.

Her plans to come to this party, feed, and make a quick getaway are totally derailed. She'd hoped to find a victim that she was attracted to but didn't like, if that even makes sense, and feed like the animal she is. Then she would leave them like all the rest, drained but still alive, and slip away.

But now she's met you, and any desire for those plans have been thrown out the window.

You interest her, and that doesn't happen often. She hasn't met someone who's been capable of doing that in years, and she's intrigued. Something about you just pulls her in, inexplicably, and she knows her feelings would be glaringly obvious if you saw her face right now.

"Woah, look at this," you sigh, stepping out of her hold to check the place out. A bench runs the perimeter of the gazebo, only stopping at the doorway, and the lights look even prettier from inside. They shimmer, looking like star showers as their strings hang down in the windowless openings of the building.

Lisa quickly learns that she loves seeing you like this. Your eyes are alight, and your sweet smile of wonder warms her heart. Her hands slip into her pockets as she eventually manages to take her eyes off you, following your lead as she admires the decorations.

She does a twirl, looking around.

"It's gorgeous."

"I know, right? This is totally up Willow's alley," you say, grinning at the mental image that you can conjure up of her giddily spiffing the scene up.

"I'll have to thank her for making it look so special, then," Lisa says, smiling. The place really makes you feel like you're in your own little world; everything about it is just right. The ambience, the decor, the company… it’s perfect, and Lisa's content with how the evening is playing out.

Her fingers skate down your arm as she nears you, trekking their way down to your palm. She takes your hand and spins you, watching with admiration as your hair flows in the breeze. Now facing her, you thread your fingers together around the back of her neck as she encircles your waist with her arms.

"Why have I never seen you around?" You ask sincerely, looking up at her.

She hesitates briefly. "My university is a few towns over. I just come here to visit my family every few months."

Not a total lie, she thinks to herself.

"And stop by terrible parties like this, of course." You add, smirking.

She shakes her head at that. "No, I can't say I do. I just decided to check this one out on my way to my friend's house." She explains.

Underneath your cloak, her hands find their way to the small of your back. One stays put while the other dips a little lower, testing the waters.

"And besides," she starts again, feeling you pull her closer. "Meeting you here automatically makes this an awesome party. Not terrible."

"Cheeeesy!" You scrunch your face up and groan, making her laugh.

"Maybe, but it's the truth."

"Sure, Lisa."

She shakes her head and you laugh lightly together, still swaying about. You hold her close enough to rest your head on her shoulder, and the pads of your thumbs rub small circles on the sensitive skin of her neck. She hums at the feeling, and you take note of the way she relaxes in your arms.

The night breeze appears again, performing a flowing dance of its own as it lulls past you in waves. A slight chill resides in it, mixed with a generous amount of the day's sweet, fading heat, and you're at peace.

The slow song that had been playing across the yard ends delicately, parting with some melodic feature that resembles a warm embrace, and it blends seamlessly into the next song.

Turning Page, you recognize it as.

Huh, how ironic. One of your favorites.

Lisa's lips brush against your cheek as she turns her head slightly, whispering, "I like this one, too."

How did she know? You ask yourself. You hadn't said it out loud…

Maybe she's just a good guesser. Yeah, that's gotta be it.

You feel yourself melt as she begins singing the words to you. It's hushed and sentimental -- meant only for your ears to hear, and that makes it even more special to you.

"If I had only felt the warmth within your touch"

She croons, pressing her cheek against your warm skin. You blush, catching yourself when you remember what the next line of the song is.

"If I had only seen how you smile when you blush"

She brings a hand up to cup your cheek in her palm, and her other arm remains around you, holding you tenderly.

"Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough"

Now, her thumb runs across your bottom lip. You look into her eyes and find them an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, but it doesn't frighten you for some reason. She glances down at your mouth again, fighting her impatience as she waits for permission from you.

"I would have known what I was living for all along"

You nod and lace your fingers in her locks, and she doesn't waste another second.

She leans in, humming against your lips when they meet hers for the first time. Her lipgloss spreads across them upon contact, smudging its precise application, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. She draws you in closer, and you bring both of your hands around to cup her face as you deepen the kiss.

Her mouth is welcoming against yours, and it moves languidly as you get adjusted to one another. Every move makes you feel dizzier than the one before it, and swarms of butterflies take flight in your stomach with no signs of stopping.

She nips at your bottom lip as her hands dip far lower than before, now kneading your ass as your kisses continue to work her up.

"Fuck," you curse, breaking away from her lips to catch your breath. She's stolen it all from you, and yet she's still not ready to give you a rest; her mouth drops to your jaw, embracing your skin there before moving down to your neck.

She doesn't realize how dangerous the game she's playing truly is until it's almost too late.

Her lips press to the area just above your pulsepoint, where she's learned over the years that blood pumps the hardest and tastes the sweetest. She draws it into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the area as her ears perk up at the breathless sound of your moans. They spur her on, and she nips at the skin, surely leaving a hickey.

Her senses become even more clouded when you say her name, the title caught somewhere between a whine and command, and she feels the strong impulse to claim you. The sensation is overwhelming, and she knows you can feel it too.

Your hands tug on the collar of her shirt as she lets her fangs fully extend, no longer suppressing them. They rake across your pulsepoint, making you shiver against her.

"Please…"

That's all you manage to get out before they pierce your skin, eliciting a whimper from you. Blood fills her mouth instantly, sliding across her taste buds in velvety waves and calming her constant craving. Your hands tighten in her hair, and the delicious twinge of pain that it provides only encourages her more.

Your blood is different than anything she's ever tasted; it's richer -- sweeter. A throaty groan leaves her as she savors it, and you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's addicting, but she knows she has to stop herself before she hurts you. If she continues like this much longer, she won't have the willpower to let go.

She retracts her fangs as she licks your taste from them, and then you feel her warm tongue clean the wound she made. It stings a bit, but in all the right ways.

When she pulls back to look at you, she finds your eyes half-lidded and a pleased smile on your face. It nearly kills her, then and there.

Her gaze flickers back to your neck to admire the hickie she made earlier, but what she sees surprises her. Below it is a darker, more prominent marking that she's only seen other vampires leave behind before.

Definitely not a hickie.

Your brows furrow as you look at her neck as well, noticing a faint outline of something growing darker by the second. Blinking a few times to ensure that you aren't hallucinating, you find that it's really there.

"Lisa, what's on your neck?" You ask.

"A soulmate mark." She responds, feeling a sense of belonging settle over her as she looks at you again. You just confirmed her suspicions by asking that.

"Same as yours," she smiles.

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promenadewithme · 4 years ago

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Heyy, congratulations on 50 followers! Could you write something for Finnick Odair (fluff with a little bit of angst?) based on the lyrics "How would you feel, if I told you I loved you? It's just something that I want to do, I'll be taking my time, spending my life, Falling deeper in love with you, So tell me that you love me too" from 'How would you feel' with a female reader. Please make whatever changes you want, absolutely adore all your writing :))

Ok so I loved this request because I love Finnick so much!! I really hope you like this! I'm sorry I took a bit longer to write this, I had a lot of uni work and studying to do this week.

requested by @boxofsilentwords

This is my first Finnick fic, so I'm nervous... Any and all feedback is more than welcome!

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Female! Reader

Song: How Would You Feel - Ed Sheeran

Warnings: Mentions of killing (nothing graphic), swearing, the hunger games, pining, fluff. Just before the 75th Hunger Games (Catching fire book/movie), but I changed the plot a bit so it would fit the story, Mags doesn’t go with Finnick, the reader does.

Word Count: 1,2k

Divider made by me on @promenadewithme-graphics

How Would You Feel

There were soldiers surrounding all the victors as you got up on the platform. Your whole body was shaking. ‘Why is this happening? I already won! I’m not supposed to be here’. You looked to your right and saw your best friend, Finnick Odair, and 3 other male tributes. To your left was Annie Cresta and Mags, who was squeezing your hand.

“As always, ladies first!” said the district 4 escort with a wild grin. You don’t understand how they slept at night, sending people off to fight to their deaths every year, watching like it’s fiction. These were real people, who had families, lives, dreams. You had dreams.

The escort grabbed one of the envelopes and walked back to the microphone.

“Let’s see...” he opened it and with glee he exclaimed “(y/n) (y/l/n)! Come on over, dear!”

You looked at Finnick with desperation in your eyes before giving Mags’ hand one last squeeze and walking away. You felt like the world around you was shrinking, like there was no air to breathe. The escort’s voice was but a whisper until your heard what you dreaded more than your own death.

“Finnick Odair!” you looked at your best friend with fear in your eyes. Most would be happy to go into the arena with an ally, but this was Finn. This was your Finn. Well, you couldn’t exactly call him yours, you two were just friends. But you have always loved him. Despite his many lovers, you always stood by him, hoping he would see you. He never did.

“May the odds be ever in your favour.”

‘And let the hunger games begin’ you thought, looking over at Finnick. He was looking back at you with a plain face, but you could see the pure terror in his eyes. ‘The arena messes with all of us, no matter how tough or brave you are. What happens when you go in twice?’

“And those two are Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark from District 12, they won last year’s game.” depicted your escort. You and Finnick were staying at the tributes building. Fourth floor for district 4, as per usual. Over the past days you had come to terms with the fact that you were going back into the arena. That didn’t mean you weren’t scared shitless.

“What else do you know about them?” asked the man. You had watched the games last year. For the first time, you actually liked the victors. So you exposed what you knew.

“Katniss is a hunter, excellent with a bow and arrow, great survival instincts. Peeta is very strong and good at camouflage. The two of them are getting married. Well... at least they were before all this.” you frowned and Finnick scoffed.

“Do you seriously believe that they are in love? They must be jumping with joy that they get to call it off.” he shook his head.

“What do you mean? You saw the games last year, they are obviously in love. They were going to die together.” you refuted, turning to face him.

“Please! The two tributes that are chosen are actually secretly love each other to the point that they would die for one another, they both win the game and live happily ever after? This is the real world, (y/n). These things don’t happen.”

Your heart tightened, but he was right. The couple had given you hope that maybe Finnick would love you too, that even the worst situations could bring some sort of happiness. You now realised it wouldn’t happen. Your love was unrequited, the two of you were going to the arena, but only one of you would come out. If both of you weren’t killed, that is.

“You’re right, they don’t.” you frowned. Your escort continued to talk about the games and how to look good in the eyes of the public, but you didn’t care. It’s not like you’d make it out alive a second time. You barely did the first, in the 66th hunger games.

You went in a year after Finnick, you were so young and so was he. Maybe that's why the two of you bonded in the first place, having to be strong so early in life isn't something easy. Having to carry the weight of killing that young isn't either.

"Excuse me." you muttered before going to your room, Finnick following suit.

"What's wrong?" he demanded.

"What's wrong? Are you seriously asking me that? What's wrong?!" you exclaimed. "What's wrong is that we already went through this. What's wrong is that this happens every fucking year and no one does anything to stop it. What's wrong is that I am terrified that I'll die, or even worse, that you'll die. Because I don't think I can live without you." tears were streaming down your face as you continued, voice getting lower with each sentence "What's wrong is that I am head over heels in love with you, have been for years now by the way, and you never even noticed me."

You gasped and covered your mouth. What have I done? you thought as Finnick looked at you in shock.

"What?" he mumbled.

"Nothing, just please forget I ever said anything." you begged, going into the bathroom. Yet again, Finnick followed you.

"You love me?" he gawked.

"No?" you tried answering, but it came out sounding like a question. You wanted to dig a hole where you could hide, you were mortified. But when you looked at Finn, he was grinning.

"You love me!"

"Oh God." you hid your face in your hands "Please don't tease me about this."

You felt a pair of hands on yours, removing them from your face.

"Look at me." he whispered. You hesitated for a second, but did what he said. He was smiling softly at you.

"How would you feel if I told you I loved you?" he asked and it was your turn to be shocked.

"What?"

"It's just something that I want to do. Well, I've been wanting to do it for a while now. I just didn't know you felt the same." he confided and you grinned, but it quickly turned into a frown.

"What do we do? The games- We..." tears were forming in your eyes again. He put his arms around you in a tight hug.

"I'll get us both out, I swear I will." he vowed.

"You can't promise me that, Finn. There can only be one victor."

"There was an exception last year, why can't we do it again? But that's no what I'm planning. There's- " he stopped for a second "I can't tell you right now what I know, but I promise we will get out. And after that," he smiled at you, caressing your face "I'll be taking my time, spending my life, falling deeper in love with you. So tell me that you love me too."

You wanted to argue with him, make him tell you, but you didn't want to ruin the moment. So, you put your head on his chest and let him hold you.

“I love you, Finnick.” you mumbled into his chest, wishing it could last forever. Wishing you didn't have to go back to the arena or at least that the odds would truly be in your favour.

General tag list: @for-bebbanburg @power-of-words23 @elenapatricia99

The Hunger Games tag list:

Finnick Odair tag list:

tell me if you want to be added to my tag list!

#finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick imagine #catching fire #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x fem!reader #fem!reader #female!reader #anastasia's 100 followers celebration #anastasia's 50 followers celebration

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rattyoakenbitch · 4 years ago

Text

❝𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝❞ ─ 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

i don't want your sympathy, i guess ive had it rough but you don't really care

❥ content ; gn reader, eventual fluff, angst, pining, happy ending

❥ warnings ; injury, swearing, mentions of death

❥ synopsis ; when you get badly injured during a mission, only then does levi realize the depths of his feelings for you. now the question is, is it too late?

❥ a/n ; i don't have a taglist yet so feel free to ask to get added!

You glided through the trees alongside your team, adrenaline running through your veins.

Kicking yourself off a tree, you landed your body with ease onto a lone Titan spotted in the forest below you. With a swift swing of the blade, the Titan was on the ground.

Finished, you zipped yourself back into the air, joining your team member's formation as you all flew together.

"Y/N!" Captain Levi shouted, resent dripping off of his words. Here we go again. "Do not deviate from original course! We are here to scout, not to thrill seek."

The team came to a slow. They stood on the branches, overlooking the land beneath them.

"I was not thrill seeking, sir, I was doing my job," you defended, turning to Captain Levi. Though he was shorter than you were, his cold stare and unwavering demeanor intimidated you.

"Your job is to follow my orders, brat, not go off wandering like an idiot!"

"I didn't wander, I was quick to regroup! You're just finding a reason to take your anger out on me," you retorted. "Then again, I wouldn't be surprised. Considering your height, it's no wonder you can barely contain your anger in such a small body."

As much as he wanted to push you off the tree, Levi kept his poise.

By now the team could hear you and Levi's bickering, but considering they were used to it, they decided to butt out and focus on planning the route.

"Stable duty when we get back."

And then he walked away, leaving you fuming.

As you continued with the scouting mission, you encountered too many Titans that you couldn't just brush them off. Angry and left with no choice, Levi shouted orders to forget the original plan and fight back.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted two Titans approaching Jean and Armin with intent. You narrowed your eyes. This was your chance. You bolted off the tree, flying fast towards the two Titans. You got your gear out, ready to slice their napes, when one of the Titans looked your way, a sick smile on its face.

"Y/N!" Armin called out in a panic as the Titan extended its arm, swiping at you like a fly. Before its hand could collide with you, you were pushed out of the way by none other than Levi.

He wrapped his arms around you securely, one underneath your bottom and his other around your back. You heard him whisper a profanity, his hot breath fanning your neck as he spoke. Though it wasn't the time or the place, you couldn't help but let your mind wander.

You were brought back to reality when Levi glided deeper into the forest, setting you down onto the ground harsher than necessary.

Totally caught off guard, your back was shoved against a tree. Levi was quick to block your exits, predicting you would try to resist.

His arms caged you between him and the tree, leaving little to no distance between your bodies. You could feel your face get hot, either out of embarrassment or his body heat mixing with yours.

"What the hell is wrong with you, brat?!" Yelled Levi, eyes wild with rage. However, something felt different about this compared to when he scolded you for separating from the group. But you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

"Me?" You scoffed. "You're the crazy psycho who stole me away and cornered me in this forest!" You pushed at his chest, successfully shoving him off of you. "I had everything under control."

"You were almost killed! I can't have reckless people on my team. I'm a captain, not a babysitter, so get your shit together or get the hell off my team."

You stood against the tree quietly, Levi's venomous words stunning you into silence. Levi continued to stare deep into your eyes, his expression never changing. However, as the seconds passed, you saw a sliver of regret in his eyes, lasting only for a mere second.

You took a deep breath, trying to choose your words carefully. "I- Just.. Why do you hate me so much?"

Levi raised a brow while you continued to speak.

"I know I'm not the best fighter. Not compared to Misaka or Eren. But what did I do to deserve so much hatred from you? Even when I'm not doing anything wrong, you look at me like I'm the most disgusting person you've seen."

Despite feeling a sting of guilt at your words, Levi put on a dismissive act. "Tch, you're being dramatic. I'm not about to discuss this with you."

Why the fuck did he say that?

"Maybe if you listened to me for two damn seconds you wouldn't get such an earful."

Why is he being such an asshole? Gods, just tell them already. Stop this bullshit.

No longer finding it in you to care, you began to raise your voice, angry tears spilling down your face. "I try my best to make you like me. I try to show you that I'm capable and strong, but you still treat me as if I'm inferior. Like my skills are nothing. Like I'm nothing."

Emotionless, Levi replied, "Because you are. Look at you. You're a crybaby. You should've stayed back." Lies. All lies.

"Ugh- well maybe you should've just let me get killed since you despise me so much!"

With that, you grab your gear and zip away as far from Levi as possible, tears blowing out of your face and into the wind.

"Hey, where are you going?!"

You ignored him as you continued to speed through the trees, searching for your team. Your friends. Anybody.

"Y/N! Look out!"

You heard Eren shout, making you spin around frantically to search for the danger.

There it was.

An Abnormal ran your way, crawling like a dog on its hands and feet.

It had been chasing the team for a while now, evident in its animalistic, hungry look.

Steadily hanging off a branch, you watch the Titan from afar, then look back at the team.

"I'll distract it! You guys go!"

They looked at you as if you had grown two extra heads.

"You'll die!" Mikasa argued. "We can take it!"

"Just go!"

The Titan started to get closer. The team looked behind you, then back at you. Though they looked ready and determined to take it down, you knew they felt as terrified as you were. Fighting Titans was just something you don't think you'll ever get used to.

"Please be careful. We're gonna find Captain Levi!"

You nodded, then turned around, watching as the Titan ran towards you, totally disregarding the rest of the team.

"You want me? Come get me."

When you decided it was close enough, you darted into the forest and soared through the trees, only narrowly missing them. The Abnormal followed you, but hit itself on the trees and destroyed many in the process.

While the Abnormal continued to run through the forest, leaves and trees blocking its direct vision of you, you took a chance and turned back, flying past the Abnormal.

You did a quick u-turn and hopped onto its back.

You got it now.

As it chased after nothing, completely unaware, you slashed the nape of its neck.

With you still on its back, the Titan went limp mid-jump, falling onto the ground hard enough to create an earthquake. Unprepared for the collision, you went flying off its body.

Instead of bracing yourself for the fall, you frantically reached for your gear in an attempt to glide back up to the trees.

Before you got the chance, your body met with the ground, a loud thud echoing from the impact.

In the distance, the rest of the team continued to fight until they got to the very last Titan. Levi, though he was the last to regroup, helped effectively take down the Titans.

It wasn't evident in his stoic expression, but he searched among his surroundings and the faces of his team for you, afraid the worst had happened. Dammit, why did he have to be such an asshole? What Levi said to you, he meant none of it. But he feared he wouldn't get the chance to tell you that. Idiot.

"Is everybody here?!" Levi shouted as his team gathered around him.

"Yeah, we're alive-"

"Wait, where's Y/N?"

The team began to search among themselves, now becoming anxious as well.

"Well, where are they? Did you not see them at all?" Levi asked in a calm tone, despite his heart beat pounding in his ears. No. He wasn't going to slip up. Not here, not now. He needed to remain strong.

Mikasa spoke up. "We last saw them when we were being chased by an Abnormal! They offered to distract it and take care of it themselves."

Levi shouted, a crack in his voice, "And you let them?!"

"Y/N is strong! One of the best fighters we have here," Eld said. "They've probably already taken it down by now."

"Then where are they?!" Levi growled, becoming more frustrated by the second.

"Hey, look!" Armin yelled, shaking his finger towards the steam in the distance. "Eld was right! Y/N did kill it after all!"

Wasting no more time, Levi commanded the team to follow him. Soon again, they were up in the trees, running your direction. They stopped as soon as they came across a clearing in the forest where the Abnormal laid lifelessly.

"Everyone! Find Y/N!"

The team split, searching the area for any sign of you.

Levi dreaded the thought of finding you like they found the Titan. No. You killed it. You had to be alive.

Levi repeated that in his head. You had to be alive.

Because if you weren't, he wouldn't know what he would do.

Your eyes shot open at the sound of panicked screams echoing around you. You pushed yourself off of the ground in a rush, only to stumble back with an agonizing scream, pain shooting up the lower half of your body.

"Fucking hell! Oh shit," you fell back on the grass defeatedly, hot tears welling in your eyes at the intense pain and aches across your whole body. "Dammit!"

You didn't know which bones were broken, where you were, if you were bleeding out. So you just laid there alone, helpless and numb. Waiting.

Just when the team was beginning to lose hope, a blood curdling scream echoed throughout the forest, easily catching the team's attention. They headed towards the source of the sound, but Levi was the first on it, already sprinting through the forest to find you.

When he did, he felt his heart drop down to his stomach. You laid in a small clearing behind some old trees and bushes, a puddle of blood beneath your body. Your uniform was torn and your 3DMG was rendered useless at this point. If not for the scream, or the fast rise and fall of your chest, he would've mistaken you for being dead.

Levi rushed to your side and got onto his knees, lifting up your body into his arms.

"Y/N? Can you hear me? Y/N?"

You coughed, wheezing and struggling to make a coherent sound. Blood dripped down the corner of your mouth as you spoke, "You were right, Captain. I never stood a chance, did I?Shoulda just stayed." You laughed pitifully.

Now Levi was angry, but not at you. "Shut up! Don't say stupid shit like that! You're going to be okay."

The team found you, stopping short at the sight of Levi holding you carefully, like a porcelain doll, ready to break.

He didn't care anymore. He didn't bother to put up a front. Not when you were like this, half dead in his arms. He pressed his forehead to yours, whispering in your ear so only you could hear.

"I can't lose you too.."

Everyone else only continued to watch the intimate scene unfold before them.

When you fell unconcious, Levi squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best to keep his composure. Why was he acting like this? Usually he would be quick to solve problems without letting his feelings get in the way. Why was he so helpless now?

He turned around, scowling at the group who just stood by idly.

"Get over here and help them, you fools!"

You hated it. You hated having to be looked after or saved like a princess in a children's storybook. You didn't want to run away anymore, or simply stand in waiting, hoping for someone to rescue you. You were done being hunted. So you joined the Scouts after years of hard work and training. If you had only thought more carefully or put your parent's advice in consideration, you wouldn't be in your current situation, regretting ever joining Levi's team. You wouldn't have ended up in the infirmary.

You passed out in Levi's arms after suffering from injuries during your fight with the Abnormal Titan, according to your friends. They came by to visit you when the medic alerted them that you had woken up from your coma.

"How long was I out for?" You winced as you massaged your still pounding head. "When did I even get here?"

"You've been unconcious for two days. We retreated to the city as Captain Levi instructed and you've been under their care since," Eren answered. He noticed your demeanor as you looked around the room and picked at your skin, a nervous habit you recently formed. "Everybody's alive, so don't you worry."

"Where are they?"

"Well, they did have to receive medical attention since they got hurt, but they're okay! They miss you, ya know?" Armin said excitedly. "We'll make sure to fill you in on everything when you're out of here."

You pursed your lips. "Speaking of which, when will I be discharged?"

"You can't exactly walk right now, but.. you should be up and ready to go within a week! Then we can go on another mission and-"

"Eren. Armin. Mikasa." Your attention was torn away from Eren, your eyes darting towards the source of the voice.

"Captain Levi!" They all exclaimed in unison.

"I would like to speak with Y/N in private." He glanced at trio, his eyes narrowing. "Out."

The three walked out, heads bowed like sad little puppies. You waved at them as they went before turning to Levi who now stood by your bed.

"What do you want?" You asked bitterly, nose scrunching up in a sneer.

"Commander Erwin informed me of your decision," he spoke softly, differing from his usual cold tone.

You huffed. "Yeah, took your advice and resigned. You won't have to worry about babysitting me anymore."

A pang of guilt shot through Levi's heart, causing him to flinch. He hoped you didn't catch that.

He remembered his own regretful words as it replayed in his head. Just like your cries and pained expression, which he was unable to simply brush off, he couldn't forget how he mistreated you. And he would never forgive himself, either. The sight of your injured body laying there, all alone. He couldn't shake the scene off his mind, no matter how hard he tried. Even in his dreams.

Evident in his eyebags that seemed to have darkened in shade, he wasn't able to get much sleep the past couple days because of it.

"I take it you hate me, then," Levi suggested, prompting you to laugh mockingly.

"Oh, no, I could never," you said, sarcasm dripping off your voice as you fake fawned over Levi. "Levi Ackerman, Humanity's Strongest.. I just adore you."

Levi hid his offended expression and ignored your antics as he continued. "I was afraid I couldn't get the chance to apologize to you. When I found you there, I.." He squeezed his eyes shut and furrowed his brows together, forcing his tears not to fall. Why now?

"Yeah, well, you fucked up. About time you feel a little heartache," you mumbled, looking around the room, anywhere but Levi.

"A little?! Look, I'm trying to apologize here!" He shouted. "Do you have no idea how fucking terrified I've been for you, you brat?!"

"No, Captain Levi, so why don't you enlighten me on how much you care?!" You huffed, crossing your arms. "Because if you did, then maybe I wouldn't be bed ridden!"

Levi's face softened at the sight of a single tear escaping your eye. He took a seat on the bed beside you and reached out to brush away your tear.

With your quick reflexes, you caught his hand and pushed it back towards him.

"Don't you dare touch me. You've done enough damage, Levi. Just go and stop wasting my time."

Just like you, he was stubborn. He stood his ground.

"I-I'm sorry."

You let out an exasperated sigh. "You must think I'm stupid. No way I'm buying that bullshit."

"You need to stop pushing me away, Y/N!"

"What is that, an order?" You taunted. "You don't get to be sorry, Levi. It's too late for that. You waited for me to almost die just to tell me that? Is that what it takes? What if I hadn't survived? What then?"

"You don't think I haven't thought about that?! That's why I'm here!"

"Yeah, and who's fault is that?"

"You should've listened to me! I was trying to protect you!"

"Well thanks a lot. Now both my kneecaps are broken and I won't be able to walk for weeks!" You shake your head. "You think just because we shared a moment while I was dying that I'm okay now? Trust me, if I had the strength, I would have slapped you then and there."

"Then why don't you now?"

"At this point, you're not even worth getting angry over. So stop giving me that pitiful look. I really prefer you shouting at me instead. At least I'm used to it." You mumble the last part, but Levi catches it easily.

"That's it then, you leave me no choice." You look at Levi curiously. "You infuriate me, brat, you really do. You're so careless and oblivious all the time, you forget to look after yourself. And I'm not ready to watch you throw away your life so irrationally from the sidelines."

"So what are you trying to tell me, Levi?"

"Tch, you're just gonna make me say it, aren't you?" He takes a deep breath. "I'm not good at this, and I hate to admit it, to you of all people. It makes me mad to see you risk your life because I care about you.. and I can't lose you. I've dealt with too much death. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you alive, even if it means dying.." Levi trails off, then scoffs and crosses his arms like a petty little child. "I said it, all right? I like you-- A lot, you stupid brat!"

You searched Levi's eyes for any trace of dishonesty. You hoped he was lying, like he had some sort of script prepared before he came to see you. But you found no lies in his eyes.

You felt your heart break. All this time when you thought Levi just really hated you, he was looking out for you.

"I.. Why didn't you just tell me?" Your voice fell apart as you spoke. "I tried so hard to make you like me back.. And it hurt because I thought you just hated my guts. I had no idea."

"I know, I was being stupid too- It shouldn't have come to this," Levi admitted. "I.. I'll let you rest now."

Levi stood up to leave, but you were quick to pull him back onto the bed with you. Without letting him react, you grabbed his face and interlocked your lips with his. All the tension in his body disappeared and he melted into the kiss, throwing his arms around you tightly like he'd lose you if he ever let go. It wasn't a soft, romantic, movie perfect kiss. It was desperate, tongue and teeth, hands wandering, disheveling the other's hair. You released all of your built up anger and resent, letting it fuel you while you aggresively fought your tongue with his, a faint taste a hint of alcohol now on your own mouth. Occasionally you'd both break the kiss for short intakes of breath and small whispers like 'don't scare me like that again' and 'I've needed this for a while now'. You couldn't help but moan, earning a grin from Levi as he continued to hungrily devour your lips. Just as things escalated, you remembered you were still in the infirmary, and anyone could walk in any minute now. You slowly pulled away, your chest heaving as you panted for breath.

Levi couldn't help but twist his lips up into a little smirk. That was new.

"Well at least you're not a bad first kisser," he spoke nonchalantly, still gasping for air. You playfully punched him in the chest.

"Quite the romantic, aren't you?" You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop yourself from smiling like an idiot. "You're not bad either, old man."

Blush spread across his cheeks.

He took your hand in his, bringing it to his swollen and raw lips and placed a small kiss on your knuckles.

"Promise me you won't leave me again?"

"Promise," you sighed blissfully. "And I guess I'll have to tell Commander Erwin about my change of plans."

"Actually," a deep voice spoke. At the door, there stood none other than Commander Erwin. "I think I already know."

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman angst #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x gn reader #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman imagine #tsundere prompts #beabadoobee #lyric prompts #angsty #aot #levi aot #no spoilers #snk fanfiction #snk levi #attack on titan #rattyoakenbitch

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xoxo-teddybear · 4 years ago

Text

Just Stay - Bakugou Katsuki - pt.2

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, cursing

Summary: it’s been almost 2 years since the breakup and Bakugou refuses to move. No matter how many times people tell him it’s time, he ignores them because he knows he’ll run into you again. And he was right all along.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2

Almost 2 years. About 24 months. Around 104 weeks, 730 days, 17520 hours, or 63,072,000 seconds. And every second of everyday, you run through Bakugou’s mind.

Memories of the two of you always pass through him and he always smile at the good ones. But as time went on, he realized he really wasn’t the same person anymore. Especially not to Y/N. In the beginning, he was hopelessly devoted to you and he craved to be around you. He always wanted what was best for you until he realized in the end he grew selfish. He stopped caring about your needs, neglecting you, and just assumed you’d stay because you still loved him the same way he did you. He was wrong though, and the horrible day of your split arrived.

After you left his house that day, Bakugou remained in the same place for hours. He stood there and cried with his back facing the front door, and when his legs grew tired, he fell to the ground and continued to cry.

Everybody thought he would move on but he didn’t. He still held onto hope. So for 2 years, Bakugou worked to fix himself just for you. He went to therapy to work on his excessive anger, he stopped going out as much with his friends and worked around the house to improve his home skills to help you out when you would return, and he even went as far as to get a lil dog for himself to learn to be a little more loving and compassionate.

His name was Bomber. He was a Pomeranian.

During those 2 years..it’s like you disappeared. Bakugou, and none of your friends, saw sight or heard word of you. Some people thought you moved, some thought the worst had possibly happened. But Bakugou was still going strong. If something was wrong, he would’ve felt it in his heart, but his hope was still going strong. He knew you were out there.

And he was right. For the past 2 years you’ve lived...everywhere! You never stayed in one place for too long in fear of someone from your life may get word of you being around. You’ve lived in the beautiful islands of the Caribbean all the way to the blissful cities in Paris. You’ve been all around the world and you’ve enjoyed all the sights, but you were getting tired of not really having friends and spending so much money. You missed Japan. The food, the culture, the songs, the celebration. The people. And so you decided it was time for you to head back.

You moved back home about a month ago and you made sure none of your old friends would hear about you. You wanted to settle for a little bit before interacting with the people who were a huge part of your old life and you enjoyed the quite peaceful nature. After some time, you decided it was okay to meet up with your old friends, but instead of going out and looking for them, you waited to see what destiny brought you, and now the moment has come.

You sat in the old park you used to love being in when you lived in Japan. It was spring time and the cherry blossoms were out as they covered the trail you made for yourself when you came here. In the past, you found a hidden area of the park forest that seemed...magical. There was a crystal blue lake that were filled with Lilly pads, lotuses, and koi fish. The sunlight hit perfectly on the patch of land, and dusted it with a golden honey scheme. The cherry blossom trees surrounded the place along with tall pines that reached the clouds. The cute little creatures that lived in the secluded area included bunnies, fawns, beautiful birds, and adorable foxes.

It’s been so long since you’ve been here. The last time you even stepped foot into this park was when you were with..Bakugou. But even then, the last time you went with him was about 4 months before your breakup. He was the only person you ever told about this spot and you both had so many memories here. You weren’t gonna lie, you missed him, but you didn’t know who he was now. As the 2 years past, Bakugou has gone through your mind a couple times, and you smiled towards the sky as you wondered what he’s like nowadays. If he’s any different than the last time you saw him. You really wished nothing but the best for the man you love.

Every once in awhile, Bakugou would step into the hidden sanctuary that Y/N showed him. He enjoyed going there to get away from his reality and thoughts of Y/N always came to him when he entered that special place. This time, his imagination seemed really strong because he felt like he was staring at the real deal.

He looked ahead and leaning against the tallest cherry tree was the beautiful goddess herself, Y/N L/N. She held her cool expression as she held a cute little bunny and her golden jewelry sparkled in the sunlight that hit her body perfectly. She truly did look like a goddess.

Bakugou smiled as he saw you, but he quickly shook it off as he realized there was no way it was possible. He then chose to walk to the spot, hoping that the image of you would just disappear, but he also hoped that you were real. He snuck up on you from behind but you were smarter than that. Once he got close enough you walked to the other side of the tree, out of his line of vision and went into stealth mode as you quickly used your quirk to be seated on a high branch. Bakugou saw you walk and disappear so he sighed as he “realized” you were just his imagination. However, when he finally settled and looked out beyond the valley, you jumped down to surprise him. You hopped off the branch, grabbed Bakugou and spun you both around so that you were laying against the tree and he was facing you.

“Long time no see, Bakugou,” you said with a little break in your voice as you spoke with such a “cool girl tone.” You held a sassy smile as you stared at him with all the confidence radiating off your body. Bakugou just looked at you in shock. His mouth hung open as his wide eyes traveled all around you to make sure you were real. He shook a little as he stared at you and soon his tears began to pool at his eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey. You don’t gotta cry, it’s okay,” you said with a concerned smile. You wiped a stray tear that fell from his ruby eyes with your thumb and you felt heat rise to his cheeks as he leaned into your palm. “....Bakugou?....Are you- woah!”

Without warning, he quickly grabbed you and pulled you in by the waist to give you a hug. He held you tight as you were shocked but you smiled against his chest and held him too. He cried on your shoulder and after some time he finally spoke.

“I’ve missed you so much Y/N.”

“.....I’ve missed you too Katsuki.”

—

“Where have you been?” He asked as you both were seated on the grass. You and Bakugou both held onto each other for awhile as Bakugou cried his heart out like a big baby. You finally settled him and you both were sitting next to each other laying against the tree as you both sat on the grass.

“I’ve been everywhere!” You laughed out, “I’ve went to the states and hung out in L.A and Hawaii, took some time in New York and hung out in Florida. I then went to the Caribbean and partied in the Dominican Republic, and I even traveled to Europe and stayed in Paris for a bit. I’ve been all over the world traveling and finding me again.”

“You seem happy about that,” Bakugou said as he looked at you with loving eyes and a small smile that only you could ever bring out.

“I am. Ever since...um...you know...I’ve been a little lost. I lost myself and I missed the old me. My trips and alone time brought out the old me again and I’ve been feeling so much more alive,” you sighed as you settled, “but I’ve missed my roots. I’ve missed Japan and the people.....I’ve missed you too Katsuki.” You said with kind eyes as you smiled at him causing him to blush immensely.

You both remained silent as you guys enjoyed the sounds of spring. You felt the breeze blow in your hair as the warm sun comforted you. Soon, you felt Bakugou’s hand slowly touch yours. You knew he was scared to go and do anything else, but you openly welcomed his touch and he clearly became less tense.

“So...what have you been up to while I was away?” You calmly asked. You noticed Bakugou’s hesitation and deep breath before he spoke.

“I’ve been....I’ve been trying to better myself for you.” Your brows raised and eyes opened up a little wider. For the past 2 years, he’s been trying to better himself...just for you. “I’ve gone to therapy for my anger, stop going out as much, learned to do more around the house...even got a little dog to learn to be a little more compassionate.”

“Ouu! What kind?” You excitedly asked. He chuckled at your cute aura and answered your question.

“Cute little Pomeranian named bomber,” he admitted.

“No way! Cuteeee!” You squealed and Bakugou just laughed at you once again. How cute. As you thought about everything he said, your smile dropped a little into a little lip curl. A silence came over the two of you before you spoke again.

“You...you did all that for me?”

“Mhm. I wanna prove to you that I can change. That I have changed. ....I’m not telling you this to get you to come back to me..I want you to come on your own choice but I want you to know if you do decide to come back, that I’ve become better.” He explained.

You smiled and hummed to yourself in happiness. Your cheeks dusted with warmth as you smiled so much it hurt.

“Why don’t you show me how much you’ve changed Katsuki?” You offered.

“What?”

“Hehe, let’s start over. I don’t know if you’re still down for anything...but I’ve missed you over the past 2 years and I remember you saying that if a certain ‘goddess’ wanted to come back..you’d be waiting with open arms...” you looked at him and he gave an open smile that held more disbelief and happiness than excitement.

“Can we try again Suki?” You quietly asked, but Bakugou stood and picked you up. He pulled you up by your arms and pulled you even higher which caused you to jump and wrap your legs around him. You laughed out in excitement as he held you like that and rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“I should be on my hands and knees asking you that, princess.” He softly said with a broken voice but it was clear he was letting out tears of joy. You wrapped your arms around his neck even tighter as his hold on you never faltered. He started sniffling and you pulled him out of your neck as you wiped his tears.

“Suki! Stop crying,” you giggled, “this is supposed to be a happen moment.”

“Shut up! I don’t cry!” He said with a flushed face as he looked to the side but still holding you. You raised your brow at him and he only nervously laughed as he placed you down. He stuck out his hand for you to grab onto but you placed it down and wrapped your arms around his. You pecked his cheek and leaned on him as he smiled down at you. This was the moment he’s been waiting for. His princess finally came back to him. Everyone told him to move on but he knew better. If he did, he would’ve never been here right now with you again. And this time, he would make sure you’d stay.

“Suki?”

“Yes princess?”

“.......Can we go see Bomber?”

“Heh...whatever your heart desires.”

A/N: STAWWWPPP YALL THIS WAS SO BAD BUT IT WAS SO RUSHED! IM TRYNA HURRY CUZ I HAVE ANOTHER PART 2 TO WORK ON, I HAVE TO START ON THE NEXT PART OF MY SERIES AND I HAVE SO MUCH WORK TO DOOOOO😭😭😭 IM SO PISSED AT MYSELF BRO THIS COULDVE BEEN SO MUCH BETTER!!! BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED WHATEVER U COULD CUBS! See u next time! 😭💗🧸

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thedeviljudges · 3 years ago

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How do you interpret that last scene? I read it very much as a promise of a reunion/what's to come. How is it a goodbye?? They're not at the airport, they're at wherever Gaon's hearing was held, and like you pointed out, time has passed, so unless Yohan and Elijah were just chilling in motels for the past month and a half before jetting off to Switzerland, this is Yohan returning to Korea for Gaon's big moment/cos he can't keep away. That and their expressions, plus Gaon's realisation that (tbc)

nothing has changed (which would be a super downer way to end his arc if he truly was alone) doesn't suggest goodbye, but instead something more along the lines of a rejuvenation, a 'right, what's next?' or a 'I'll be seeing you.' I mean, Yohan clearly wanted Gaon to catch him, otherwise he wouldn't have stood directly behind him caressing his chair! Could just be wishful thinking but if I hadn't read comments saying so first, it would never have occurred to me that it was meant to be a goodbye.

i think the point of the scene is leaving it up to viewers discretion, but because most of us here are very lawful husbands-oriented, of course we refuse to see it as a goodbye. plus, i didn't take it as a goodbye while watching it personally.

i did miss the "a month later" notation when i first watched just because where i was watching with english subs, there was notes about where gaon and jinjoo were covering it up. so luckily someone pointed it out or i would've missed it.

i think that note about the month thing really says a lot in terms of how it's meant to be interpreted. so let me just go off about it because i'm feeling so many things still.

first, i think it truly shows that yohan still cares for gaon and always will no matter how much time passes between each other and they're not by each other's side. yohan purposefully flew back (i don't think they would've stayed in a hotel since all of yohan's and elijah's things were packed up and gone when gaon visited the house) just to see gaon. literally the singular reason was to push gaon into his role as a judge and support him giving his testimony—one that yohan made happen in the first place. why wouldn't he see out this plan in person, too? this might come across as yohan checking up on gaon before leaving again, and that's certainly the case, but it's not a goodbye. it's yohan popping in to check up on him, especially for the road gaon has ahead of him as a judge.

yohan didn't give gaon a proper goodbye either. he left the cards and the blueprint of the courtroom in his bedroom so gaon would find it and know that he's safe. he never actually said goodbye at the building as well, and it's similar to the theming of death where if a body isn't shown on screen, are they really dead? is it really goodbye if it's not uttered?

i've come to the conclusion that it feels more like "i'll see you around" for me - that gaon knows yohan is out there, and he's not gone for good. he blatantly "threatened" gaon and told him if he wasn't doing a good job, he'd be back. that means yohan is going to be watching over him in some capacity, and you're telling me that he's going to spend time doing that and not go see gaon at any point? why would yohan fuck himself over more like that? doesn't make sense. that's too much pining, and when has yohan ever sat back and did nothing about what he wants?

i think they both recognize that after all of the pain and suffering they've gone through, a brief separation is not just needed but probably a good thing - sort of like a breather to really settle down, work through their emotions, and also for gaon to give yohan and elijah a bit of time to work on their relationship without gaon in the mix for once. also for gaon to find his own way as a judge without yohan's influence as well.

so overall, no. to me it's not a goodbye. i can see them coming back together just a few months down the line because they need each other and all will be well. plus, gaon would be more than supportive of yohan and elijah staying in switzerland if it means she has a chance to go to physical therapy and heal. gaon knows how to be independent, and so does yohan. i think they're perfectly capable of maintaining a long distance relationship if it means elijah comes first. it's like one parent stays home while the other goes to work and/or travels. just like any other family.

it could also be reasonably explained that they did not go near one another due to the building they were in. i highly doubt that yohan wants people to know he’s alive. gaon wouldn’t jeopardize yohan again, and they most certainly do not want people questioning gaon after everything that just happened. he’s at a judicial reform meeting, and he blatantly told everyone that he still doesn’t agree with yohan’s way of justice. he’s not a criminal, and he’s not a hero.

then, we have the watch. the blatant watch that gaon never took off no matter his doubts about yohan. from the very beginning, it’s been there. and it will stay there as a reminder. fitting that isaac gave yohan his token of remembrance to do good in a necklace. and yohan gave his through a watch. yohan has the scar gaon gave him.

and finally, does this not look like one kang yohan who has something up his sleeve? where have we seen this blatant look before? especially as tempest plays as he walks away.

#x #the devil judge #gahan #lawful husbands #this was long and the last part about isaac and yohan's token.... i literally just figured that out damn #the devil judge meta

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uwuwriting · 4 years ago

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Soulmates w/ Dabi, Shirakumo and Keigo

Request: Hello! I just read a few of your writings &I'd just like to say they're amazing! Anyways, may I request some hc's for a soulmate AU w/ Dabi, Shirakumo, & Hawks?(all separate)- anonymous

Soulmate Aus have a shit ton of tropes so I went for a different trope on each boy bc I love them all. My man Dabi has dipped the last few chapters and I’m getting kinda deprived, although I appreciate him not burning my baby Shoto to a crisp so we good. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: angst with some fluff

Dabi/Todoroki Touya II Interchangeable eye color

-Dabi’s outlook on love is really negative.

-Growing up the way he did and in the environment he did, the possibilities in him believing or cherishing love and soulmates was low.

-When he got his soulmate sign he was around 12.

-It was the darkest moments of his life and he hated himself to no end.

-When he woke up on that fateful Sunday morning he thought that he was hallucinating.

-Then he imagined that this could be an after affect of his trauma, just like his hair.

-His mind though drifted to his soulmate.

-He didn’t have a mark up until now and your eye color changing was one of the many soulmate signs out there.

-As he stared at his left eye, the e/c orb staring back at him, he began to cry.

-Sobs wracked his body as he clutched his eye.

-This was unfair.

-He shouldn’t have a soulmate, what good could he be to anyone?

-He is a failure and he is gonna bring down his soulmate as well.

-So he hides it.

-Puts a patch over his eye to conceal the new color blooming around his iris and when his family starts questioning it he buys contacts.

-Natsuo helps him even though he doesn’t understand why his brother doesn’t want a soulmate.

-Years pass until he finally meets the person that has changed his life.

-Shigaraki was being a brat as usual, whining about needing new members for his little group.

-Dabi couldn’t care less.

-This whole charade with these losers would only aid him reach his ultimate goal.

-He didn’t care about Shigaraki’s shitty ideologies and otherworldly desires, he just wanted his revenge.

-His eyes scanned the so-called hide out in utter boredom, his gaze landing once again at the bar’s door left slightly ajar in case someone came looking.

-He didn’t expect for the door to open though.

-And as the grease old door creaked open a figure stepped into the room, clad in black from head to toe.

-A mask was covering half of your face leaving only your eyes visible.

-You scanned the place before your eyes landed swiftly on him, knocking the breath out of him as you locked gazes, e/c orbs baring into his own.

-The vibrant blue on your left eye had him gasping for air.

-It was stunning.

-You moved to talk to Shigaraki, your voice albeit monotone and cold, sent tingles up his spine making his hairs stand at attention.

-His eyes were glued on you, one of his hands subconsciously going to the left side of his face where his mark should be visible.

-It felt as if his contact burned his eye and he quickly took it off, not minding about possible infections since he didn’t wash his hands before touching his eYE DAMMIT YA NASTY AF.

-His body was drawn to you, his mind screaming at him to talk to you to go close to you.

-You knew he was your soulmate.

-You had known the moment you stepped into the bar; no one had such a beautiful blue hue in their eyes other than your soulmate.

-Despite your mutual desire to be close to each other you held off for months.

-Months of keeping distance, months of giving each other the cold shoulder.

-It would all reach a tipping point soon and Dabi would finally understand what it’s like to truly love someone.

-Until then though, suffer in your mutual pining.

Shirakumo Oboro II Red string of Fate

-The string around his pinky finger always lay motionless for years.

-It was slack and lifeless, no sign of his soulmate being remotely alive.

-It really worried him, he thought that he might be one of the few unfortunate individuals who didn’t have a soulmate.

-He talked to his friends about it and they all reassured him that his soulmate was just too far away from him so even if they tugged at the string he wouldn’t be able to feel it.

-This reassured him all throughout middle school.

-He started getting a little discouraged when he saw all his classmates getting their soulmate signs whether it be names tattooed on their wrists, one of their eyes changing color or a strand of their hair, other could hear faint music if they concentrated hard enough while others were unfortunate enough to feel their soulmate’s pain.

-Shirakumo was left staring at the red string surrounding his finger.

-He had thought about tugging at it, making the first step instead of waiting for the person on the receiving end.

-But on this day, the day when both Aizawa and Hizashi got their respective signs he found himself tugging at the string.

-At first he pulled lightly watching the string grow taught slowly and then go slack again.

-He waited for what felt like a century before tugging again and again, more force being put in his pulls every time.

-After an hour of waiting and tugging he was done.

-Eyes downcast with a frown on his lips, he was ready to let this whole soulmate thing go.

-At the end of the day he doesn’t need the universe to tell him who he should fall in love with; who he is destined to be with.

-Then he felt it.

-The lightest tug at his finger.

-His eyes followed the red string as it straightened a few times before going limb again.

-Aizawa walked in on him pulling the string like crazy, excited giggles leaving his lips when his soulmate responded with their own pulls.

- “Shota I did it. T-they answered!”

-This whole string communication business lasted until the first day of high school.

-As Oboro walked through the halls of UA he felt the string shift on his finger.

-It was as if it was wrapping tighter around his finger, almost to the point that it hurt.

-Maybe he was about to meet his soulmate that’s why the string was thinning.

-Wait, meet them??

-He wasn’t ready to meet them!!!

-What if they didn’t like him? What if his hair was a bit too cloudy for their likes? Oh god his hair must be a mess because he flew here. Maybe he can dash into one of the bathrooms and fix it real quick. Will he be too loud for them? What-

-Lost in his own thoughts he completely missed the person standing in front of him and soon he was crashing into them, a small grunt leaving his lips as he maneuvered himself to cushion their fall.

- “Oh God I’m so sorry, I was totally zoned out. Are you alright?”

- “Why are you apologizing? I ran into you.”

-He let out a chuckle as you scrambled off of him, dusting off your skirt before offering him a hand.

-As he took it he felt his pinky being released from the pressure.

-Right before your eyes you witnessed the red string that connected you both unwrap for your fingers, illuminating for a moment before completely disappearing leaving a sense of familiarity and warmth in its wake.

-You both stared wide eyed at each other before awkwardly introducing yourselves.

-It didn’t take long for you two to actually fall in love and if you’re being honest it’s was so easy to fall for him that you believed that even if you weren’t soulmates you would have loved him.

-Even after years, even after that fateful summer, the sense of his presence and his warmth never left you; it was as if he wasn’t gone and he was still somewhere out there.

-You were half wrong in that one….I think.

Takami Keigo/Hawks II Name tattoos

-He got his tattoo when he was 13.

-It had really awful timing if he was being honest.

-The hero commission was isolating him completely, even from the few friends he had made around the facility he trained in.

-He couldn’t even begin to imagine what they might do if they find out he had a soulmate.

-He truly wished he had a different soulmate sign or no soulmate at all.

-He did everything in his willpower to hide the calligraphy of your name on his left wrist.

-Bandaging it up, covering it with a watch even scribbling over it like he used to do when he was 9 and bored.

-But at some point it became harder to hide it, harder to conceal the beautiful name that was printed on his wrist.

-So he confided in someone.

-One of the caretakers at the commission had taken him under their wing ever since he was a wittle toddler, he trusted them with his life.

-When he approached them frantically grasping his wrist in attempts to hide the letters, they were both delighted and saddened.

-It was nice knowing that this poor child had someone out there that was meant for him and would make him happy, replace every single one of these awful memories with new ones.

-Memories he would like looking back to.

-But just like Hawks himself they knew that the commission wouldn’t allow this person to get involved with him, at any costs and they knew how far these people could go in order to guarantee Hawks’s undivided concentration.

-So they helped him; they bought him some make up to cover it up and taught him how to apply it correctly.

-By the time he was out of the hands of the commission *at least not in close reach* no one apart from them knew of his soulmate’s name.

- “Now listen here Keigo, I want you to take good care of them when you finally meet them. And never forget that you deserve nice things, don’t let anyone take your happiness away.”

-He did find his happiness.

-It didn’t happen right away but it did come sooner than he expected.

-He had learned about the new transfer student who began attending UA in the middle of the year.

-He never heard their name but he knew they existed.

-Turns out they were quirkless but were determined to become a hero despite their shortcomings.

-After a few months he bumped into them and oh lord his wings have never been puffier.

-He was relaxing on the roof, away from prying eyes and loud people, just him and the birds *he found his people at last*.

-When he heard the door open he almost leaped off the building but paused at the sound of a soft voice.

- “Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t know someone was up here.”

-Turning around he came face to face with the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes upon.

-For the first time in his life he stumbled over his words, a swift ‘It’s alright’ escaping his lips and before he knew what he was doing he was inviting you to sit with him.

- “Wow you can see everything from here.”

- “The view is better up in the sky if you ask me.”

-After a long pause he added. “I could show you if you want.”

- “How can I trust you? Hmmm?” you teased. “I don’t even know your name.”

-He let out a chuckle before continuing. “Could say the same for you but since I’m a gentleman I will grace you with my name. I’m Keigo Takami or Hawks if you wanna go with my hero persona.”

-He saw your eyes widen as you stared at him, your eyes darting to his covered wrists.

-Quickly you composed yourself straightening your shirt and extending your hand, the black letters of his name delicately engraved on your smooth skin.

- “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N L/N.”

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badgirlcovenrep · 3 years ago

Text

The Goddess' Blessing (of a daughter)

Chapter One

(NOTES: the raylla adopts Tiffany fic everyone's been asking for

this is going on AO3 once I get home from my sister's but I wanted to post here first. If you'd rather read it there follow me and I'll post once it's officially in there.

Obs: Tiffany is six in this. Mostly because I wanted to write our witch moms carrying their baby and canonically she's like ten so..... and she's also like severely traumatized. We'll get to the healing soon enough though.

+ Edwin is the best papa. And Scylla has p much already adopted this kid, she just doesn't know it yet.

It's half past six p.m when their train screeches to a halt at the Chippewa station. In all the chaos of the last couple of weeks, Scylla hadn't realized Yule was well on it's way. It is still mid November, but the station has been prematurely decked in civilian Christmas decorations, and almost every wall and corner twinkles in golden speckles and fake pine.

Tiffany had been dozing in and out of sleep on the bench next to her, holding tight to her stuffed parrot as well as Scylla's coat sleeve with her restless small hands that spasmed in pure energy even as she slept. Since coming back from Nicte's mission, Scylla had been in a frenzy to get everything ready for their trip, and Tiffany had followed her around the (no longer safe) safe house, clinging on to her attention with wide blue eyes. She'd always liked kids. Before everything happened Scylla even used to babysit for dodger families.

It was never a lot of money, but she appreciated the levity and humor kids carried. They had hope Scylla prayed she could one day get back. Hope that could only come from the fleeting innocence of childhood. But even then, Tiffany was special, she still had all those wonderful, bright things, and she carried them in bulk, spilling out of her tiny little hands for anyone to see.

Yet she was also touched by things so horrible Scylla sometimes shuddered awake in the dead of night, when her mind conjured up terrible nightmares of being in her place. Of being squeezed into a tiny cage, fed dog food, strung up on a stage as masked psychopaths snickered and passed around stones bigger than fists. It showed, sometimes, in how every once in a while her expression became somber and reserved. How she stopped mid-sentence, and Scylla could see the glint of tears in the corners of her eyes.

It reminded her of Raelle - Raelle, who'd sat in her bed just yesterday and snacked on the stupid expensive popcorn her mother had bought - Raelle, who also carried so much darkness behind her strong, steady demeanor - those were the parts of her Scylla couldn't help but want to protect, and as a result, those feelings also extended to Tiffany. Scylla lost a lot of people in her life, and she'd decided the day she found the child's parents that she would do whatever it took to keep her safe. Just like she wished someone might have done for her. Because that sort of hidden, desolate pain could just as well transform itself into something entirely awful if exploited the right way.

People around her start getting up from their seats, reaching to the compartments for their luggage, there aren't many of them making their way up North this time of year but they still fill the cart in humming conversations, deciding on what to do next or where to get dinner. Scylla takes this as her cue to skim her fingers through Tiffany's hair, gently nudging her awake, "Hey, T, wake up, we're here."

The little girl sits up, bleary eyed, and yawns, looking around at the commotion, "it's already Christmas?" She asks, catching a glimpse of the boisterous decorations set up outside.

"Not yet, no." Scylla chuckles, getting up from her seat to retrieve their own bags - they had everything the two could think to bring, and yet were still not much. A duffel bag for Scylla and purple backpack for Tiffany, with unicorn stickers and colorful buttons sewn to the front. Scylla had retrieved it, along with some toys and clothes, from the girl's home, "People just love decorating early."

"Oh." Tiffany quips, as Scylla helps her fit her arms into the straps of her backpack, then takes her hand in a steady grip once they are done, pulling the young girl towards the door to leave the train, "The lights are pretty!" She exclaims happily, blinking in wide eyed wonder.

Outside, November has definitely made itself known, and Scylla is glad they are both warm in their coats as the wind bites her cheeks until they turn a dark blush. She looks around for Edwin, not sure she'll recognize him from the pictures she'd seen Willa scatter around the house, but still willing to try.

For a second, in that moment, she thinks this might not have been a good idea. When Scylla agreed to it, she'd admittedly not been in her full faculties, brain too preoccupied with seeing Raelle again after so long to completely comprehend what she'd been offered.

After everything that happened, she can't help but be a little nervous to meet the father of her ex (?), the same girl she still very much loved. The girl who had run back to her in that dark forest a day before and clung onto her face until all they could breathe was each other.

If she thought too much about it, Scylla could still feel the soft, almost painful impact of her lips as Raelle knocked her off her balance and breathed fire into her chest like molten lava. It'd been so long, she almost forgot the kind of power Raelle had when she kissed. Like she was always on the verge of tasting your very soul. Their whole day back together before was so very delicate and tentative, air fizzling with electricity like the tension of a bow, pulled tight with an arrow ready to shoot.

The time they've been separated her heart was squeezed tight under an elastic band. Whenever she stopped to think, even for a minute, she could feel it taught, so very strained, reaching from the very inside of her ribs. It was there from the very start. The tightness was what propelled her diaphragm into breathing Raelle in that very first night they spent together, even if she knew she shouldn't, and then, it was what kept them orbiting around each other like their very own solar system. Never too far apart. Always wishing to be closer.

When they kissed in the clearing, hairs messy with the wild strumming of the bat just a few feet away, for the first time, she felt like the band released. The invisible string, so very tight, loosening from under her heart to extend around the both of them and wrap them in what Scylla could only describe as exhilarating, shaking relief. The touch of Raelle's cotton gloves, that she never thought she'd feel again - the taste of her lips, like blood and rain droplets and a mouthful of just her.

It left Scylla running on a high since she walked away from Raelle just the day before, in the early hours of the morning.

It's not how she hoped she'd meet Raelle's dad. Deep down, no matter how much she tried not to, Scylla had imagined herself, more than once, coming to the Cession hand in hand with the blonde fixer. In love and together, going home to meet the parents. It's bittersweet to be here with Tiffany instead, and she has to squeeze the young witch's hand slightly to ground herself from the urge to run.

To just take the child's small body in her arms and run- leave the station in lieu of a cheap motel, one with vending machines, where they could hide from the world a little longer.

When the witch looks down, however, Tiffany smiles reassuringly back at her, squeezing her hand slightly in return, and Scylla can't help the wave of affection that washes over her.

"Excuse me? Are you Scylla and Tiffany?" A voice coming from behind wakes them back from the moment, and when they turn, both come face to face with Edwin Collar.

Scylla's sure it's him. If not because he does still look quite a lot like the pictures she's seen, then because the necromancer can definitely see the telltale signs of Raelle written all over his face. It's mostly there in the kind drop of his eyelids, and the way his mouth creates tiny wrinkles of soft skin when he smiles, but it's there, nonetheless.

"Yes, we are, nice to meet you, Mr. Collar." Scylla greets, settling down her bag to shake his hand.

"Of course, it's amazing to finally meet you. Raelle talked you up a storm," he declares, chuckling proudly, "only good things, I assure."

"Oh, I'm sure I don't deserve that." She let's out, hoping it sounded more playful than it feels for her.

"Nonsense. You seem like a kind girl." The man decides, with a solemn nod, before turning to Tiffany, "and you- Tiffany, I'm very happy to have you with me this week as well, I'm sure we'll have lots of fun together."

"Thank you, Mr. Collar." The small blonde replies, half-hiding herself behind Scylla's pant leg.

"Let's go then. It's getting cold." Edwin finally declares, taking Scylla's bag from the floor without a question. The girl goes to complain, but he cuts her off before she can - "and don't fight me on this. Raelle also never let's me carry her bags, for once I'd love to help."

Scylla still wants to protest. Mostly because she feels that they have already asked so much - and she doesn't quite deserve the kindness - but he seems sincere, so she nods instead, and with the affirmative, all three begin their way to the parking lot.

"Is Raelle your friend?" Tiffany asks innocently, skipping happily over her boots.

"Uh- she- yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Well, you said we were going to a friend's dad's house." Tiffany notes. "Where is Raelle then?"

"About that-" Edwin stops in his step, "did you see her? How is she?" He asks, an uneasy tension settling over his demeanor as he studies Scylla for answers, "they told me she was alive but that was it-"

"She's okay. I saw her yesterday, she was well." The brunette assures, and that seems to send a wave of relief over the man, who breathes deeply before continuing their walk along the various cars.

"Oh, thank goodness." He sighs, "when those people took her I thought- I'm so glad she's okay."

"Yeah. We were all worried." Scylla declares. And this, she can relate to. The way he cares so much for Raelle, it spills into the very movement of his expressions. It's familiar, and it warms her heart. She decides right then that she likes Edwin.

"Did the bad people take Raelle too?" Tiffany questions, frowning in scared surprise as they reach Edwin's old truck.

Scylla sighs, not having revealed much of the mission she'd gone on the day before. She knew it'd be scary for her. Tiffany was still very much traumatized, and rightfully so, after everything she'd been through. But Tiffany was also very smart- and observant. She'd catch up eventually and Scylla feels stupid for not dealing with this before coming.

"Yeah. They tried to hurt her, but me and her other friends didn't let them." The necromancer assures, as she helps the girl into the backseat and clicks in her seatbelt, "she's okay now. We're all safe here."

"Oh- Okay." Tiffany nods, but Scylla can see the doubt shining under her eyes.

Scylla wishes she knew what to say, but words fail her, so she squeezes the girl's hand reassuringly once more, winking in what she hopes is humorous solidarity, before closing the door.

***

Raelle's house is just like she imagines- small, rustic - surrounded by a thick canopy of trees and bushes. It reminds her of the places she used to stay with her parents, scattered over random cities all over the U.S. Scylla likes it.

"It isn't much, but we always have warm dinner and pancakes in the morning." Edwin quips, humbly, as he leads the pair of witches to Raelle's room, "you can stay here. Hope it is comfortable."

"This is more than enough, Edwin." Scylla smiles gratefully, "it's too much, really. Thank you for letting us stay."

"Nonsense." He waves his hand with a half embarrassed chuckle, "It's good to have people here again. After Rae and Tally left everything feels a lot quieter." Scylla nods in agreement, as the man turns to leave the room, the two witches inside watching him carefully, "You guys should change and rest a bit- I'll call you for dinner.

Scylla thanks him, and waits until the door clicks behind his back to turn her attention to the luggage that had been settled over a random chair. The room is filled with so much Raelle, she can't help but notice the letters, pictures, memories and song lyrics, glued to every single wall, from a time before Fort Salem, before them.

The blonde used to leave notes on her dorm walls back at Fort Salem. Lots of silly things like "I'll be back after training" or "You fight people in your sleep. It's cute.". Scylla wonders if they are still there or if they've been taken by the army when she was captured. It doesn't matter anymore, the necro realizes, and she shakes her head in an effort to bring her attention back to the room.

"You should put on some pajamas." Scylla says toward Tiffany, who sat, grievously quiet, at Raelle's bed.

She looked thoughtful, in a way regular six year olds don't quite show unless they have to go through way too much. Her small, bright eyes hide barely concealed darkness as she shifts her looks everywhere but at the older witch.

Scylla sighs, finding this place - this relationship - so very painfully familiar. She'd been the scared little girl last time, feeling so very small and alone. And now, as the adult, she was definitely going to try her best not to fuck it. As difficult as it might be. The world didn't need another suffering witch.

After a few minutes of silence, Scylla realizes she was not going to get an answer, so she opens the girl's backpack and fishes out a pair of mermaid themed leggings and t-shirt, along with the small bag that carried her tooth and hair brushes along with some other toiletries. Scylla places the items by Tiffany on the mattress, kneeling in front of the young witch and studying her clear, soft little face.

"Hey. Are you feeling alright?"

"Are the bad men coming here to hurt us?" Tiffany asks, instead of a response, and Scylla frowns in worry.

"No, of course no-"

"They came and took Raelle too." Tiffany notices, tears escaping from her eyelids that Scylla dries up with her thumb, "and they hurt Miss Willa, the other kids' at the office and my mommy and daddy. What if they come here again? What if they really hurt us this time?" As the questions stumble out of her mouth, sobs begin to wreck across her throat until she's shaking, ever so slightly, with the force of her tears and heavy, panicked breathing.

Scylla sighs and rises from the ground to cuddle the girl close to her chest, squeezing tight until she can feel Tiffany's little arms squeeze her back. Scylla's afraid too - most of the time, if she allowed herself to be honest - Ever since watching Raelle leave her in that cell the year before, the girl could feel even more perfectly the path of death and destruction that marked their (the witches') way through the world.

One of the bad things about being a necro - Death didn't like not being known, and it showed itself insistently, to anyone able to notice.

"We don't know whether or not they'll come again." Scylla ends up responding, sincerely, as she squeezes her arms even tighter around the little girl, "but I won't let them hurt you, you hear me? I dealt with them before, I can deal with them again."

"No" Tiffany shakes her head, frowning up at her in teary-eyed fear, "You too. You're safe too. I don't want you to get hurt either."

"Hey." Scylla forces out a chuckle, trying to lighten up the situation for the young witch's sake, "don't be silly, ok? I'm pretty much invincible."

Tiffany doesn't laugh, her breathing having somewhat returned to normal. The girl just stares back at Scylla with a seriousness that's all too unfair, coming from a six year old, and she reaches out, her pinky finger lifted in expectation, "Pinky promise you'll be safe too? Please?"

Scylla knows she shouldn't. The truth is, she doesn't know what will happen. After their plan to capture Nicte was said and done, Scylla barely had any idea what she would be doing now. But Tiffany obviously needs the reassurance, from the way she stares ever so desperately at the necro's face.

"Okay, I pinky promise." Scylla smiles, trying to convey some calm toward the other girl as she let her pinky link with the smaller one. It seems to work, as Tiffany's expression softens and her tense posture falls, "now let's get you under a shower and into some pajamas, ok? You're a very smelly little witch right now."

"Am not!" Tiffany replies, and Scylla can't help but full on laugh this time, pulling the small girl to Raelle's bathroom as she mockingly protests.

Second chapter is almost done, just needs to be read over for mistakes. For C2, Raelle calls home, Scylla meets old dodger friends and she also has an important conversation with Edwin.

Hope you guys enjoyed!

#motherland fort salem #scylla ramshorn #raelle collar #raelle x scylla #motherland: fort salem #raylla #taylor hickson #amalia holm #mfs tiffany #tiffany mfs

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