#I tried a few years ago and lost interest - yes despite knowing the twist - but I'm glad I hung with it this time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angelicyoongie · 4 years ago

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Out of the Woods (III)

— pairing: wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader — genre: fluff, angst, smut — word count: 11K — warnings: mentions of past abuse, explicit sexual content! — summary: Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it's only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.

Part I / II / III

Namjoon startles with a low growl at the knock at the door, ears twisting back as it opens to reveal the nurse alongside someone you haven’t seen before. “Mr. Kim, Miss Y/n, meet Yeonjun. He’s our hybrid shelter contact, and he has some information to share with you regarding Mr. Kim’s owner. I’ll leave you to it, but I’ll be back shortly,” You give the nurse a small nod before she leaves, your attention straying back to the blue-haired man standing just inside the door.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Yeonjun says, a warm smile on his lips. The wolf hybrid’s growl grows louder as Yeonjun’s eyes find yours, Namjoon bristling under your touch. “Don’t worry Mr. Kim, I’ll stay right here,” Yeonjun leans back against the wall, his posture relaxed and open despite the snarl on Namjoon’s lips. You squeeze his wrist in warning, begging him to calm down. You have no clue what Yeonjun is here for, but you don’t want Namjoon to ruin his chances of a good home by making a bad first impression. Namjoon’s growl stutters at your tight grip, and Yeonjun looks amused as the wolf hybrid forces himself to relax against the pillows behind his back. Namjoon settles for glaring at him instead, and you take that as a small win.

“Sorry, you had something to tell us?” You say.

“I do,” Yeonjun ruffles through the folder in his hand, eyes squinting slightly as he reads off the information. “It says here that the legal owner of Kim Namjoon, Mr. Kim Deok-ho, filed a missing hybrid report five years ago. Is that correct?” Namjoon offers a stiff nod, his jaw clenched tightly at the sound of his owner’s name. Your eyes grow wide at the new information. Five years? Namjoon was by himself for that long?

”It appears that Kim Deok-ho passed away a year after the report, due to a sudden heart attack. Since he had no relatives and has not left your ownership to someone else, you’re currently an ownerless hybrid.” You let out a shaky breath as Namjoon’s ears spring up at the information, his tail doing a half-hearted wag beneath the covers. “Based on the nurse’s reports of the old scars and marks on your arms and chest, we have reason to believe that mistreatment and abuse occurred during the ownership, and so even if someone from Kim Deok-ho’s past step forward in an attempt to claim you, it will be denied.” You slump back in your chair, desperately blinking away the tears blurring your vision. Thank god. At least he’ll never have to go back there.

”I take it that you agree with those observations?” Yeonjun gives a small smile at the relieved whimper Namjoon lets out, the wolf hybrid’s raspy yes filling the small room. Namjoon flips his hand over to grasp yours, his long fingers intertwining delicately with your own.

“Good, we’re on the same page then. The next thing we need to settle is what’s going to happen moving forward,” Yeonjun flicks over to a new page, pen hovering over the paper as he looks up at both of you. “A newly formed pack bond isn’t hard to notice when you know what to look for. I take it that you have no interest in going to the shelter?”

Namjoon brings your hand up to his chest; shaking his head as he says, “Stay with Y/n. Please.”

Yeonjun’s questioning gaze flickers over to you, and you quickly scramble out an agreement. “Namjoon can stay with me for as long as he wants,” You try your best to suppress a chuckle as Namjoon’s tail start wagging at your words, a faint blush blooming in his cheeks at the heavy thuds against the bed.

“Great!” Yeonjun smiles as he fills out his forms, “We need to do some standard background checks and we have some protocols to follow, but I don’t think there will be any issues. Just fill out this form and give it to the nurse later, and I’ll get the process started.” He places a pen and paper down on the small table near the door, giving the nurse a nod as she pokes her head in.

“We’re all done, just let me know when the form is ready,” He gives you and Namjoon a quick wave before he slips out of the door.

“Well then, I have some news too,” The nurse says. “Thankfully the operation went well, and Mr. Kim’s recovery should be fairly smooth. He’ll need to stay here for a few more days for observation as he did lose a lot of blood, but we don’t think there will be any issues,” She smiles.

“Now, since hybrids heal much faster than regular humans, we’ll have to do a few more check-ups than normal just to make sure you don’t wear the cast for too long. You’ll likely be able to remove the cast after three weeks, and then keep a brace on for a few more after that until you’re back to normal. You will be provided with a pair of crutches, but you’re stuck with bed rest for the first week to make sure you’re not putting too much pressure on your injury.” You can feel your back ache at the thought of having to spend a few weeks sleeping at the couch until you can get hold of another bed, but it’s for sure worth it if it means Namjoon will recover well.

“I think that should be all, do you have any questions?” You shake your head, a smile curling at your lips as the wolf hybrid copies your movement.

“That’s good then, I’ll leave you two be for now.” The nurse bids you both goodbye with a nod, the room falling into a sudden silence as she closes the door behind her. Namjoon flashes you a dopy smile as you turn your attention back to him. The wolf hybrid clutches your hand tightly to his chest as he shifts his upper body as close to your chair as possible, his warm brown eyes never straying from your face.

“Before I sign the papers, I just want to be sure that you’re really okay with staying with me. I promise I’ll do my best to take care of you, but Yeonjun might have some foster homes that are better suited for your recovery. My apartment is pretty small,” You grimace. You really aren’t lying when it comes to your home. Sure, you might have two bedrooms, but one of them is hardly even big enough to be a closet. It will be a tight squeeze with Namjoon while he’s injured, but you’ll manage as long as the wolf hybrid is certain.

“It’s .. okay. Want to stay .. with you,” Namjoon frowns as he works to find his words, his gaze turning a little desperate as if he’s afraid you’ll change your mind if he takes too long.

“Of course. I’ll bring you home as soon as you can be discharged,” You squeeze his hand comfortingly. You can’t help but feel a little flutter of excitement at the thought of bringing him back to your apartment. “I should go fill out the form then,” You smile. Somehow, you think Namjoon will fit right in.

“Careful,” You wince as Namjoon almost stumbles into a wall, the wolf hybrid’s grip tightening around your shoulders as you try your best to hold him up. If there’s anything you’ve learned over the last couple of days in the hospital, it’s that Namjoon is stubborn. And apparently, that stubbornness is only amplified when it comes to you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to use the crutches?” You ask as you try to fish up your keys from your pocket, the wolf hybrid’s tired breaths spilling across your neck.

“No crutches. Only need you,” Namjoon grumbles. You blame your stuttering heartbeat on the exhaustion you feel after practically carrying Namjoon from the hospital to your car, and then from your car to your apartment complex. Thank god you have an elevator, otherwise you have no idea how you would manage to get him up to the eight floor.

You let out a sigh of relief as you get your keys out, quickly shoving them into the lock to open the door. Namjoon’s ears spring up at the sight, his tail beginning to move behind his back at the pleasant smells that hit his sensitive nose. Everything smells like you, like warmth and comfort, and there’s nothing the wolf hybrid wants to do more than add his own scent to the mix, to make sure that others know that you’re taken. He hasn’t even been able to properly scent you since the woods, and the faint touches he’s been able to leave on your skin isn’t enough.

You help Namjoon step out of his shoes, carefully leading him down the narrow hallway of your apartment. “Here’s the second bedroom,” You nod to the first door you pass, “That’s my bedroom, and the last door on the right is the bathroom. The rest is an open concept living room and kitchen, as you can see.” Namjoon’s golden eyes carefully scan over your moderately sized apartment, his nose wrinkling as he picks up a scent he hadn’t noticed near the entrance.

“Dog?” Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he tries to hobble over to the couch. It takes you a second to catch on to what he said, the image of Sana and Jihyo cuddling on your couch a week back flashing in your mind as you struggle to hold him back.

“You’re supposed to head straight to bed,” You say, curling your fingers deeper into Namjoon’s side as he tries to wriggle out of your hold. “Namjoon, please,” You plead as the strain in your back begins to throb, your body definitely not made for almost carrying a fit wolf hybrid for an extended period of time.

Namjoon stops struggling at the tired tone in your voice, and you take the low whine that falls from his lips as an apology. You catch him throwing a narrowed look at the couch as he lets you lead him to your bedroom, and you make a mental note to maybe try to air the room out before he needs to use the bathroom. You didn’t even realize Sana’s scent would linger that long, but then again, she and Jihyo had spent all day glued to your couch.

“Here we go,” You carefully lower Namjoon down on your bed, helping him get situated and comfortable before propping his leg up with a few pillows. You sink down on the edge of the bed, a frown tugging at your lips as you notice how rough and threadbare the material of his clothes are. The only clothes Namjoon have are the ones he got from the hospital, but they’re obviously far from new. You were hoping to get him more situated before leaving him alone, but there’s no way you’re going to let him use clothes that seem like they might unravel at any moment when you have the funds to get him soft and better-fitting clothes.

“Would you be okay if I head out for a bit? I need to get–” Namjoon cuts you off with a pained whine, his hand closing firmly around yours as he says, “Please don’t go.” The wolf hybrid’s silver ears are flat against his head, another distressed noise rumbling out of his chest as he tries to tug you closer on the bed.

“It’s okay, I promise I won’t leave!” You say, your heart squeezing painfully at the panicked expression on Namjoon’s face. It’s too reminiscent of how he looked when you left him out in the woods, and that’s something you never want to revisit.

“We can order you some new clothes online and get them delivered here tomorrow! I’ll stay here for as long as you need me to. Is that alright with you?” Namjoon searches your gaze for a few seconds before he seems to find what he's looking for, the tension in his shoulders lessening as he rasps out a low thank you. “It's nothing to thank me for, it’s the least I can do,” You give his hand a soft squeeze.

“I’ll go make some dinner, you need to take your pain medication soon,” You can see the doubt in the wolf hybrid’s eyes, his hold tightening ever so slightly around your hand. “How about I leave the door open? You’ll be able to see me the entire time I’m cooking,” You say. It truly breaks your heart that Namjoon is so scared that you might abandon him, but can you really blame him? His first owner was abusive, and when he finally found someone – when he found you – who he felt strongly enough about to consider his pack, you had left him.

“Yeah,” Namjoon nods, his slender fingers slowly untangling from yours. The wolf hybrid’s eyes widens as you lean closer to fluff up the pillows behind his head, his tail doing a couple of surprised thuds against the mattress at the close proximity.

“Let me know if you need anything,” You smile. You can feel Namjoon’s gaze following your every movement as you cook an easy dinner, the position of your bed giving him a vantage point of both the couch and the kitchen behind it. Normally, being watched so intently would’ve made you feel a little uncomfortable, but with Namjoon, it almost feels reassuring to know the wolf hybrid isn’t letting you out of his sight. You don’t live in a bad part of town by any means, but it gives you that little extra ounce of protection you wasn’t even aware that you were craving.

“What about this one?” You only get a non-committal sound in response, and you shake your head with an amused huff as you add the sweater to your cart. Since all of Namjoon’s focus was on his food during dinner, it seems that he now refuses to look at anything that isn’t you, so that doesn’t leave you much choice but to pick out most of his clothes on your own. You had tried to keep a little distance between your bodies on your bed to make sure you couldn’t accidentally hurt him, but the wolf hybrid had gently tugged you closer with a displeased growl, not happy until your side was flush against his. You bite down harshly on your lip as Namjoon’s rough fingertips glide over the delicate skin on your wrist, the wolf hybrid seemingly more interesting in mapping out every inch of your arm, rather than what you’re trying to show him on the screen. You end up picking out some loose clothing, something Namjoon hopefully will like after not wearing clothes for years. You can tell he’s uncomfortable in the stiff hospital clothes, especially since the outfit seems to be a size or two too small. You do a last scan over your cart, happy with the assortment of soft earth tones you’ve picked out. Namjoon doesn’t strike you as a hybrid that would wear something overtly flashy, but if that’s something he wants to later, you’ll be more than happy to update his wardrobe.

“Okay, done! It should be here by tomorrow afternoon,” Namjoon perks up as you close the laptop in your lap, the wolf hybrid’s brown eyes flickering up to meet yours. You feel your breath getting caught in your throat as you take in how softhe looks, and you find yourself reaching out to brush Namjoon’s silver hair away from his lashes before you can stop yourself. Namjoon lets out a surprised rush of air at the contact, the warmth in his eyes almost scorching as he slowly moves his gaze around your face, taking the chance to drink in every detail of it. The wolf hybrid shifts his weight, and the loud creak of your bed is enough to make you hastily pull back, cheeks flushed as you stutter out a, “I-I uh, should probably get the couch ready.”

“Couch?” Namjoon’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Yeah, you’re taking the bed so I need somewhere to sleep too,” You say.

“Why? Just sleep .. with me,” The wolf hybrid frowns. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it aside from sleeping, you have done it before out in the woods after all, but your stomach flutters at the words before you can reel yourself in, warmth slowly climbing up the back of your neck.

“I can’t do that Namjoon,” You mentally pat yourself on the back for how steady your voice sounds, “The woods were different. We .. we can’t do that here.” Despite feeling like you might trust Namjoon with your life if the situation ever calls for it, you don’t actually know him. The past days in the hospital have been filled with tests and interviews with Yeonjun, and so you haven’t truly had the chance to really talk to the wolf hybrid yet. You have to at least be something akin to friends before you’re comfortable sleeping next to him.

“Oh,” The disappointment in Namjoon’s voice is obvious, his expression almost turning a little shameful as his ears begin to droop. “I’m sorry,” He mutters.

“Don’t worry about it, okay? You’ve been shifted for a long time, so it’s only natural that some things are a little different between human and animal,” Namjoon nods, but there’s something in his expression that looks a little closed off now – more hesitant. “Is there anything you need before I go to bed? Anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?” The wolf hybrid shifts his gaze around your room, pink lips parting and closing as if there’s something he can’t quite make up his mind to ask for.

“Can I .. scent you?” Namjoon murmurs. One of your childhood friends had a hybrid, a sweet little cat hybrid that always used to scent you when you came over after school. You learned then that scenting helps hybrids to calm down and feel more comfortable around new people and places faster, which lessened the shock when you first met Sana all those years ago, and it’s also why there’s not an ounce of hesitation in your voice as you say, “Of course.” The wolf hybrid’s head attention snaps back to you so fast you’re almost a little worried for his neck.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks, his warm eyes searching your face.

“I am. It’ll help you settle in here faster, right? So I really don’t mind,” You smile. Namjoon nods, pink lips pressed into a firm line as he gently takes a hold of your hand. He brings it up slowly to his face, a look of deep concentration in his eyes as he begins to rub his cheek against your wrist, making sure that he covers every visible inch of skin with his scent. Namjoon’s hold loosens ever so slightly, but just as you think the wolf hybrid is done, he leans down to swipe his tongue over your skin, leaving behind a more permanent scent mark. You bite down harshly on your lips, desperate to stifle the surprised sound bubbling up the back of your throat. The hybrids you had met before never did this during scenting. Namjoon’s ears begin to perk up the more his scent lingers on you, a content noise rumbling in his chest they begin to properly mix. Maybe it’s just a wolf thing, you decide. After all, he had scented you out in the woods in the same fashion before, so it's likely just something tied to his species that you weren’t familiar with. You allow Namjoon to switch out your hands, letting the wolf hybrid scent both of them to his heart’s content. He looks visibly more relaxed as he places your hand back in your lap, his tail beating against the bed in a steady rhythm.

“Better?” You ask.

“Better,” Namjoon confirms, a soft smile on his lips as he shifts back against the pillows. You take that as your cue to get ready for bed yourself, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

“Can .. door stay open?” Namjoon asks as you scoot of the bed, his eyes flickering hesitantly between you and the living room.

“It can.”

As you settle down into your freshly made couch, you can help but feel soothed at the sounds of the wolf hybrid getting comfortable in your bed. Your apartment suddenly feels a little warmer, a little more lived in, with the added noise of another person. You stare up at the dark ceiling with a smile, and the pleasant fluttering in your stomach tells you that if Namjoon decides to stay, your apartment might actually begin to feel like a home.

“Did you pick a movie?” You take a seat next to Namjoon on the couch, placing the popcorn bowl careful down between the two of you. The wolf hybrid nods at the screen, one of the newer blockbuster films already chosen and ready to be played. With his broken leg, there really isn’t much for Namjoon to do except watch movies or read, but you thankfully have a wall of books, and unlimited streaming services for him to use. The first two days of having Namjoon in your apartment were more awkward than you had expected. But then again, maybe it should have been weirder if it hadn’t, considering you had to help someone you barely know clean up and use the bathroom. It had been a learning curve to say the least; your cheeks stained a permanent pink until you managed to work out a good system. Namjoon’s new clothes had arrived quickly as well, and the wolf hybrid seemed pleased at the colours and the loose fit of the items you had chosen. You praised your own choices too; the baggy pants and slightly oversized shirts made helping him dress and undress a lot easier.

Though, there is one thing you haven’t been able to work out quite yet. Namjoon. Despite the wolf hybrid’s initial distrust of the crutches, he seems to have really taken to them now, especially once he realized that using them meant he could just trail after you himself without you having to struggle holding him up around the apartment. It is cute that Namjoon has been glued to your side ever since you arrived at your apartment, but with how he’s straining himself to hobble over to the front door every hour despite the doctor’s request of him not getting out of bed, it’s starting to worry you. The behaviour reminds you of your time spent with him the woods, and how he would constantly scout the area you travelled through for danger. You need Namjoon to relax and heal, but it’s been difficult, especially since the hybrid hasn’t said much outside of yes and no for the last four days. Before you left the hospital, the hybrid doctor you had spoken with had made it very clear that it was important to engage Namjoon in conversation, as his speech would only improve the more he used it. It’s beginning to feel more and more like you’ve just brought home a guard dog and not a person, and it makes your chest uncomfortably tight to think that Namjoon might not feel safe enough in your home to let his instincts take the back seat and just be.

You’re startled out of your thoughts as you suddenly hear a howling laughter coming from the hallway. You know it’s just some neighbours finally getting home after work, but Namjoon stiffens at the noise, ears perked in the direction of your door. It’s obvious that the wolf hybrid has the urge to protect, one hand already reaching for his crutches – so you just hope you’ve read the signs right when you hastily grab Namjoon’s hand, tugging it into your lap to cover it with your own. Namjoon freezes, his jaw clenched tightly as he slowly moves his eyes from the screen to your intertwined hands.

“Do you mind? It seems like this part is going to be a little scary,” You gesture to the action scene playing out on the TV, plastering on your best sheepish smile as you hold the wolf hybrid’s hand tighter. You feel his fingers twitch in your hold as another round of loud laughter rings out in the hallway, but to your surprise, Namjoon only takes a deep breath before he settles back against the couch. He flips your hand, easily entangling his fingers with yours as his bright eyes travel back to the screen. For what feels like the first time in four days, you can sense Namjoon finally letting his shoulders drop, his tail doing a half-hearted wag against the couch as he relaxes. The rough fingertips grazing your knuckles at random intervals keeps you distracted enough that you have no clue what the movie you just watched was really about, your hand tingling with the sensation of Namjoon’s careful touches.

As the end credits begin to roll, you turn on the couch, facing the wolf hybrid more directly as you say, “Namjoon, are you okay? You’ve just seemed a little tense and closed off these last days. I just want to make sure that I’m not doing anything that’s making you feel uncomfortable.”

“Not you, just me,” Namjoon rasps, his lips pressing into a firm line, “Don’t want to be .. too much.”

“Too much?” You frown.

“Old owner wanted me to be quiet. No scenting .. Said it wasn’t natural,” Namjoon’s ears fall flat against his head. “Couldn’t help it, was too young. So owner punished me.” The wolf hybrid’s eyes briefly flicker up to meet yours, the usual warmth hardened and cold and sad as he lowers his head as says, “Sorry. You can punish too.”

“Namjoon,” You whisper, swallowing harshly around the lump in your throat. You can feel your chest crack, eyes growing blurry as you think of a younger Namjoon. You know that all hybrids need psychical contact to stay happy and healthy, and that it’s especially important for younger hybrids to make sure that they learn about their instincts and needs. Your childhood friend’s hybrid was never denied pets or cuddles, the cat hybrid practically always glued to someone’s side because anything else would’ve been inhumane. The fact that Namjoon was abused for wanting something as harmless as a hug, or a scratch behind his ears makes you want to bring his owner back to life just so that you can make sure he receives the proper punishment for his crimes. Death seems too easy of a way out of the horrible things he did.

“I will never do that to you. You never have to worry about being too much of anything. Wanting someone to talk to and touch is completely natural,” You hesitantly bring a hand up to cup Namjoon’s cheek, lifting his head enough to meet his gaze. Your fear of Namjoon not wanting your touch flies out the window the moment the wolf hybrid leans his whole head into your palm, nuzzling his cheek against your hand as the bushy tail behind his back picks up speed at the contact. It dawns on you then, that after the first night he scented you, Namjoon had withdrawn completely. Him following you around and checking the door was probably the best thing he could to do to feel close to you while still keeping his distance – because that was what he had been forced to adapt to. You softly clear your throat, keeping your voice as level as possible as you give him a gentle smile and say, “If there’s something you want, you just have to ask. I promise I’ll do my best to make it happen for you.”

Namjoon angles his head in your palm, soft lips brushing over your wrist as he murmurs a quiet thank you into your skin. “Can I … ask you something else?” You can’t help the way your heart flips as Namjoon tries to follow the hand you remove from his cheek, the wolf hybrid letting out a perturbed whine.

“Sure,” He rasps, clutching your intertwined fingers tighter to make sure you won’t remove them too.

“How did you get caught in the trap?” You wince as your eyes drift to Namjoon’s cast. Jihyo had made some calls while you were with Namjoon in the hospital, and it had turned out that the old owners of the cabin had left out multiple bear traps many years ago. It had been so long that they had forgotten they were even there. You're honestly surprised that the trap still worked considering how rusted and old it had looked clamped around Namjoon’s leg, but then again the wolf hybrid is big when’s he’s shifted. Not the same as a full-grown bear of course, but his weight was obviously enough to set it off.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” Namjoon says. The dejected look on his face feels like someone has punched you straight in your stomach as he mutters, “Was distracted. Sad.” Because of you. ”Was going to leave when the trap stopped me,” Namjoon frowns. That explains why it took so long to find him, and why he had moved so far from where you first met him. If it hadn’t been for the trap, you likely never would’ve seen Namjoon again.

The wolf hybrid’s face is pinched as he tries to formulate the sentence in his head, the words a little jumbled but clear enough that you understand what he’s trying to say, ”Trap hurt, but you came back. So pain is okay.” For all the things you want to say, the only thing that comes out is just a saddened, “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head. The wolf hybrid’s golden brown eyes are warmwarmwarm, his voice dripping with honeyed content as he says, “Found you, so everything’s okay now. Found my pack.” Your body moves on instinct as you shift closer, untangling your hand from Namjoon’s to gently wrap them around his shoulders. The position is a little awkward, but you couldn’t care less about the weird twist in your lower back as the wolf hybrid collapses into your embrace with a low whine, his face tucked securely into your neck. The soft fur of Namjoon's ears brush against your chin as he inhales your scent, a shaky breath escaping his lips as your calming scent washes over him. He doesn’t scent you like you expected him to; instead, he just seems happy to be this close to you, his breath spilling across your neck as he tries to press himself even closer.

“Yeah,” You breathe. It seems you both have.

It’s almost too easy to grow attached to Namjoon. The last two weeks since you brought Namjoon home has passed without a hitch, the wolf hybrid finally having settled properly into your apartment. His speech has improved drastically since you talked that night, and he’s been doing better and better for each day as he makes an effort to ask about your life, or your work. With the way Namjoon’s face lit up at the mention of your profession, it felt like another puzzle piece was falling snuggly into place. You’ve never had someone be so interested and intrigued by your writing before, but then again, you’ve never met someone who devours books in the same way that Namjoon does either. The wolf hybrid breezes through a book in only a couple of days, and the sound of paper being turned alongside with Namjoon’s low grumbles as he finds something interesting has become your new white noise as you work. You were certain you wouldn’t be able to write with someone else in the apartment, let alone the same room, but Namjoon blends so seamlessly into your life that it’s far from an issue.

But, with attachment, also comes fear. You call Jihyo on your way to the grocery store, your mind busy and your heart even heavier as you make your way through the spring rain. Like the sky, you pour out all of the insecurities and worries you’ve kept bottled up, Jihyo only spurring your rambling on with a few encouraging noises.

“I’m scared,” You admit. “Is it weird how fast we’re moving? The more I get to know him the more it feels like he was always supposed to be there.” Jihyo lets out a low hum as she thinks.

“I don’t think so Y/n. Sometimes you just find people you click with, there’s nothing wrong with that. And it’s not like you’ve only been hanging out for an hour every now and then, you’ve been living together for two weeks. It’s understandable that you would grow close a little quicker than normal.”

“But that’s not all, is it?” Jihyo adds, as you keep silent.

“No .. I just don’t want him to regret anything. I’m the first nice human he’s seen in years, I’m just scared that his affection is a little misplaced,” You grimace.

“That may be, but Namjoon is still capable of making his own choices. The people at the hospital treated him nicely, and you don’t see him rushing to come home with them.” You can hear Jihyo’s teasing smile through the phone.

“I guess,” You mutter. Despite his initial hostility toward the staff, Namjoon had opened up after the first day there. He had stopped growling and trying to bite the doctors' hands off, and he had even offered the kind woman that checked upon him the most a sweet smile after she had brought him his dinner.

“There’s no guarantees in life Y/n. You don’t know if Namjoon will change his mind in a week, or a month or a year. But I do know that you would respect his wishes and let him go if it ever comes down to that. I think Namjoon knows that too, and that’s why he’s not afraid to open up to you. Because you genuinely care about him,” Jihyo voice is soft through the phone. “You have no guarantees, but some things are worth the risk.” You didn’t even have to think twice to know that Namjoon was worth it. You already knew.

You briefly glance up from your computer as a steaming mug is placed next to it, the wolf hybrid giving you a dimpled smile before he hobbles back to the couch. You raise the cup to your mouth; a relieved sigh leaving your lips as you inhale the strong aroma of the coffee Jihyo gifted you last month. You hold back a groan as you take your first sip, the strain in your eyes already feeling a little more bearable due to the hybrid’s sweet actions.

Namjoon does this a lot, you’ve come to realize. Even with his injury, the wolf hybrid tries his best to do little things for you. It’s everything from bringing you coffee when your energy starts running out, to organizing your scattered notes, to tearing you away from your unfinished chapters when the words just won’t flow anymore. Your cheeks are honestly starting to ache from the smile that seems to be constantly tugging at your lips. You take another sip of the hot beverage, nearly choking on the burning liquid as you notice the two new emails in your inbox. You open the hospital email first, the standardized note doing little to calm your nerves as you skim through the reminder of Namjoon’s appointment next week. You know the wolf hybrid is itching to get the heavy cast off in exchange for a lighter brace, so he’ll be happy to know that his leg is healing as it should be.

You push through the light tremor in your hands as you go to the next email, Yeonjun’s name creating a flurry of nerves to erupt in your stomach. You haven’t formally adopted Namjoon yet. The papers you signed were for a temporary stay while the shelter did more extensive research into your funds and background, so the notice you’ve been waiting for since you left the hospital is finally here. You’ll finally know if you've passed their tests or not. You hastily click the message before you can talk yourself out of it, your eyes scanning frantically over the page until you find the section you were looking for. You slump back in your chair, eyes growing wide as you read the same sentence over and over. You’re eligible to adopt Namjoon if he wants to stay with you.

“Hey Namjoon,” You grin. The gray ears on Namjoon’s head perk up at the sound of his name, the wolf hybrid’s bright questioning eyes meeting yours as you say, “How do you feel about steak tonight?”

“Smells good,” You swear you almost have a heart attack as Namjoon sneaks up behind you, the wolf hybrid sniffing the cooking meat over your shoulder. You have no idea how he manages to be this quiet with crutches.

“Good! They should be done in a few minutes,” You say as you flip the steaks over, turning down the heat to make sure they don’t get burned. You can feel the heat from Namjoon’s body lingering behind you, the wolf hybrid still rooted in place. You bite back a surprised squeal as Namjoon’s arm wraps around your waist, tugging you back a small step so that he can hook his chin over your shoulder.

“Is this okay?” You stiffen as Namjoon’s husky voice brushes against your ear, a shiver running down your spine at the close proximity. You’re no stranger to hugging or holding hands after living with Namjoon for two weeks, but this feels more .. intimate. Different.

“Of course,” You say. You suck your lower lip between your teeth as Namjoon’s fingers spray across your waist, the firm grip making your head spin as he begins to rub his cheek along your shoulder. Oh, you realize. He’s scenting you. So far Namjoon has only scented your wrists, and you understand now why he decided to limit himself to that, because this – this just feels like so much more. The wolf hybrid lets out a pleased huff as he moves to nose along your throat, his soft hair tickling your neck as he does his best to cover your scent with his own.

You can feel your eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touches, your head tilting to the side to allow Namjoon more access to your skin. You feel the rumble in Namjoon’s chest before you hear it, and it quickly dawns on you that you have once again barred your neck to the alpha, submitted, as teeth begin to nip at your sensitive throat. You clutch the spatula in your hand like it’s a lifeline, trying your best to focus on how the metal is digging into your skin rather than how Namjoon’s fingers have started trailing up and down your waist, leaving fires in their wake. You’re doing good, you think. Just don’t think about it. It’s natural, it’s okay–

Your eyes fly open as Namjoon’s tongue drags over the gentle bite marks on your skin, a choked whine escaping your throat. The wolf hybrid stills against your neck, lips resting against your throat as his tail wags furiously behind his back. You can’t tell whether it’s Namjoon’s or your own heart that’s beating so harshly against your ribcage, the wolf hybrid’s naturally woodsy smell making you feel lightheaded at how tightly it’s wrapped around you. You both stand frozen in place, embarrassment beginning to creep up your chest as Namjoon rubs his cheek against your shoulder one last time, his voice deep and raspy as he says, “You smell good.” You offer him a dazed nod, not trusting you voice. Your eyes stay locked on the slightly charred vegetables as the wolf hybrid pulls away. You can hear him clearly now, how he slowly moves his way back to the couch. You let out shuddering breath once you deem him far enough away, forcing your knees to stop shaking and the butterflies in your stomach to calm down as you finish preparing dinner.

“I have something to ask you,” You say. You figure you might as well bite the bullet considering you’ve only been pushing your food around for the last five minutes. Namjoon gives you an encouraging smile around the food in his mouth, his ears perked and attentive.

“I heard back from the shelter today,” You pause as Namjoon’s eyes widen, his jaw working furiously to get rid of the large piece of steak in his mouth. You stifle a snort, resting your chin in your palm as you wait for him to finish.

“Go on,” Namjoon swallows harshly. “Yeonjun told me that everything checks out. My income and credentials are good enough to officially adopt you,” You say. “That is, if you want me to?” You hastily add, a sliver of fear rushing through your veins as the wolf hybrid’s face becomes hard to read.

“Do you?” Namjoon asks.

“Want to adopt you? Yes. I know I might not have the most space to offer you, but there’s nothing I’d love more.” The thought of Namjoon leaving you makes your chest feel hollow and tight, but at the end of the day, it’s the wolf hybrid’s decision. Namjoon regards you silently for a few more seconds, his brown eyes searching your face one last time before his own crumbles with relief.

“Then adopt me. Please,” He rasps, “This is more than enough, I just want to stay with you.” You can’t hold back the smile that blooms on your face, a matching grin tugging at Namjoon’s lips as you say, “Deal.”

It isn’t until later, when you go to bring out your sheets from your closet that Namjoon stops you. The wolf hybrid is resting on the foot of your bed, his fingers loosely clasped around your wrist as he says, “Stay.”

He clears his throat at the confused look in your eyes, his ears shifting nervously as he nods to the bed. “I know your back hurts from sleeping on the couch, and I promise I’ll keep to myself. Just .. sleep here with me?” You cast an uncertain glance at your bed, trying to calculate just how much space there will be between the two of you. Your back is sore, and the long hours working at your desk don’t exactly make it better. You have ordered a new bed for the extra bedroom, but that has yet to arrive. You probably should’ve realized the website was a little shady considering just how good of a deal the bed was. You sigh.

“I’ll stay.” You’re tired of feeling like you’re seventy years old when you wake up, and your back really needs some proper rest. You help Namjoon manoeuvre under the covers before you get yourself ready for bed. It feels weird slipping into it with Namjoon already there, the wolf hybrid giving you an amused grin at the groan that escapes when your back hits the soft mattress. You can feel the tenseness in your muscles melting away as you drag the duvet up to your nose, your hand blindly reaching for the bedside lamp until the room is plunged into darkness.

“Good night,” You whisper.

“Sweet dreams Y/n.” The warmth and security of Namjoon’s body being so close to yours drags you under before you know it, and truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you slept so well.

You huff as you drag the heavy laundry basket from the spare bedroom. The new bed you ordered has been sitting inside the room for a week, but it has yet to be used. You and Namjoon came to a silent agreement to just forget that it’s even there. As you drag the basket into the living room, you find your gaze automatically drifting to the wolf hybrid. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch Namjoon lean against the balcony, the wolf hybrid bathed in golden light as the sun begins to set. Namjoon turns slightly, his ears picking up a sound you can’t hear from inside the apartment. The wolf hybrid’s eyes flutter as a soft gust of wind ruffles his hair, his tail wagging slowly at the fresh air. Still, you know it’s not enough. It’s the faint frown on Namjoon’s face that fuels your guilt, because despite his reassurances that this is all he needs, you know it’s a lie. He’s a wolf hybrid. He needs more space, he needs fresher air, and he needs the forest. He’s not made to live in an apartment in the middle of a bustling city, and especially not after living by himself for years out in the wilderness. This may be all he needs, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t happy.

Now that the weather has begun to grow warmer, Namjoon has started spending more and more time on your balcony. It’s been five weeks since the accident, so the bulky cast on his leg is switched out for a lighter brace, but his leg still isn’t strong enough to actually go for a walk outside. You think you both have started to go a little stir-crazy after hardly leaving the apartment for so long, but thankfully the doctor let you know at the last check-up that he can likely remove the brace and start using his leg slowly from next week. Yet, the parks around your area can’t compare in the slightest to the woods around Jihyo’s cabin. Namjoon is his own person, but with the papers you signed last week, he’s now also partially your responsibility. And you just want to do what’s best for the both of you.

You shake your head, huffing out a low curse as you bring the laundry to washing machine inside your bathroom. You chew mindlessly on your lip as you think, getting a little lost in your own thoughts as you watch the clothes being tossed around inside the machine. The soft flesh is almost bitten raw as you come to a conclusion. You don’t need the city in the same way that the wolf hybrid needs the forest. In all honestly, you’re starting to grow a little sick of the constant noise. The only thing you need is good Wi-Fi and well .. Namjoon. You close the bathroom door behind you with a firm snap, the guilt in your stomach slowly turning into excitement as you watch Namjoon push away from the balcony and make his way inside. You think you know how to fix this.

Namjoon lets out a strained huff as he shifts on the couch. You can feel your concentration slipping further with each movement, the words in front of you bleeding together as you lose your place for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. You know the wolf hybrid is anxious to get the brace off, but he literally only has to hold on for twelve more hours until it’s time for his appointment. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he keeps his book in his lap, his neck bent at an awkward angle as he tries to continue reading it. The wolf hybrid’s chest is falling and rising a little heavier than normal, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he keeps squirming, his gold tinted eyes nearly burning through the pages with the intensity in his gaze. You place your book down on the couch with a sigh.

“Namjoon,” You can feel your heart still in your chest as the wolf hybrid’s dark eyes

immediately fly up to find yours, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he has around the bound pages. “You know it’ll be easier to read your book if you– Oh,” Your mouth runs dry. You had snatched the book out of Namjoon’s hand to bring it up higher, but it didn’t quite cross your mind that maybe it had been placed there .. strategically. Namjoon is big, and the thick bulge straining against the gray fabric of his sweatpants leaves absolutely nothing to your imagination.

Your forcibly tear your eyes away, cheeks burning with embarrassment as you hastily flip the book around to get a proper look at the cover. It appears that Namjoon must’ve found the books you had stashed away in the other bedroom, those that are just tastefully decorated porn. “Shit, I’m sorry,” Namjoon’s voice is caught between a growl and a whine, the sound strangled and unsure as he reaches for his crutches, “I’ll just uh, go take a cold shower.”

“Do you want me to help?” You snap your mouth shut, horrified at the words that just bypassed your filter. The crutches scatter to the floor as the wolf hybrid turns back to face you, his voice breathless as he says, “What?”

You carefully place Namjoon’s book down on the couch, unsure if you should take the out he inadvertently just gave you. You know this is going into territory beyond just friends or roommates, but then again, your relationship is already a little too intimate to just call it that. But, you still don’t know if that’s because Namjoon has been depraved of human touch for so long that he’s trying to catch up to everything he missed out on, or because he actually likes you. You’ve already accepted your growing feelings for Namjoon, but you’re not sure this is a risk you’re willing to take. You should probably pretend that this never happened. You jump as Namjoon gently tilts your head up, his golden eyes dark as he says, “Y/n, what did you ask me?”

Or maybe, for once in your life, you should take a risk. The wolf hybrid’s gaze follows your throat as you swallow dryly, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you softly repeat, ”Do you want me to help?” The low growl that spills from Namjoon’s mouth makes your thighs clench.

“Fuck,” Namjoon curses, the dark look in his eyes growing wilder as he rasps out a strained, “Please.” Your knees hit the floor before you can even think about it, and another low growl rumbles in Namjoon’s chest as you look up at him.

“Your leg,” You eye the awkward way Namjoon has twisted himself, the wolf hybrid letting out an impatient huff as you wait for him to settle down properly on the couch. You slowly trail your fingers up his good leg once he’s situated, the injured one resting on the coffee table behind your back. You shuffle forward until you’re properly kneeling between Namjoon’s outstretched thighs, your hands resting on the firm muscles.

You keep your eyes locked on the wolf hybrid as you ease your hands up under his baggy shirt. You suck in a breath as you feel the taut and defined abs underneath your fingertips, the muscles jumping as you explore Namjoon’s body. You knew that the wolf hybrid was in good shape after being so active for many years, but the extra food and proper nutrition he’s been getting ever since you brought him home has really filled him out in the right places. You push Namjoon’s shirt up as your fingers trail higher, the firm skin making you bite back a moan. Namjoon is absolutely ripped. Goosebumps rise on Namjoon’s skin as he lets your hands slide across his stomach, the heavy breaths falling from his lips hitching as they glide down down down until your fingers are hooked into the waistband of his sweats. His hips rise off the couch enough to help you pull them off, and the wolf hybrid hastily works his good leg out of the material to give you more room. Namjoon’s hard cock is straining against his boxers, a patch of pre-cum already seeping through the material.

”Fuck, you’re big,” You breathe, biting down harshly on your lips as the wolf hybrid’s cock twitches at your words. Namjoon lets out a raspy whine as you press soft kisses to the inside of his thighs, not stopping until you reach the dark fabric clinging to his hips.

”Is this still okay?” You check, your cunt clenching around nothing as you look up to see how just wrecked Namjoon already looks. The wolf hybrid’s pupils are blown wide, and the veins in his arms look like they’re ready to pop out of his skin from how tightly he’s gripping onto the couch. Namjoon barely manages to nod before he throws his head back with a moan, your hot breath spilling across his skin as you lean down to mouth at his clothed cock. You lick against the already damp material, your nose trailing along the thick length. It doesn’t take long before Namjoon’s chest rumbles, his voice low and deep as he says, ”Y/n, no teasing.”

A shot of arousal travels down your spine at the wolf hybrid’s dominating tone, and you waste no time pulling his boxers down his legs, Namjoon quickly stepping out of it like he did with his sweats. Your nails dig lightly into the wolf hybrid’s thighs as you take in the sight of his cock, the thick and long length making your eyes widen. Namjoon is so big you can’t even properly close your fist around him, his shaft already glistening with pre-cum. You quickly rub your thumb across his slit as another drop forms, using it to coat the rest of his length as you lean in closer, just enough to press feather light kisses to the head of it. The wolf hybrid gasps at the contact, and you peak up to find his eyes shut tight, a light sheen of sweat on his face as he strains to hold himself back from touching you, tail wagging wildly behind his back. You press another kiss to the pinkish head of his cock, the pressure a little firmer as you open your mouth enough to take him in, swirling your tongue around the tip.

”Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon moans. His thighs clenches at the wet hotness around his cock, fingers twitching by his side as he digs them into the couch cushions. You begin to push down further on his length, trying your best to relax your throat as you slowly bob your head on Namjoon’s cock, hand stroking the rest of it to match the rhythm of your mouth. You moan as you feel the heavy weight of the wolf hybrid’s cock resting on your tongue, the slightly salty taste only spurring you on further as you tighten your lips around him. You slide your free hand up his thigh, grasping his tense fingers to bring them to your hair. You can tell Namjoon was itching to touch by the way he immediately gathers your soft locks between his fingers, curling them until he has a nice grip behind your head.

”Baby,” You look up just in time to meet Namjoon’s hooded gaze, a whine pressing up your throat at the desperate hunger in his eyes. The vibrations makes the wolf hybrid’s hips jerk, the sudden motion making you choke as his cock brushes against the back of your throat. The grip in your hair tightens as Namjoon tries to pull your back, but the apology dies on his lips as you deliberately swallow him down even further, refusing to let him tug you off.

“Look at you,” The wolf hybrid groans, ”You were made for this, weren’t you baby?” You can only hum in response, Namjoon’s words making your cunt throb with need as you futilely try to rub your thighs together to create some friction. The wolf hybrid’s hand follows the movements of your head as you up your pace, your lips coming down to touch the fingers wrapped around his base as you take him in faster. Your name rolls of Namjoon’s tongue like a prayer as he watches you swallow down his cock, his abs clenching as you don’t let up on the speed.

”Fuck, your mouth looks so pretty stuffed full of my cock,” Namjoon growls. Trying to not choke on the stiff length in your mouth has distracted you enough that you don’t notice the weight forming underneath your fingers until you’re staring down at a fully formed knot. You don’t have much time to think about it before you feel Namjoon’s grip in your hair tighten, his chest rumbling as he helps you swallow down another inch of his cock. You’re almost at the base, almost touching his knot with only a couple of fingers between the taut skin and your lips.

“I– shit, I'm not going to last.” Tears spring to your eyes as you hum around the wolf hybrid’s length, the vibrations making Namjoon’s breaths turn harsher, louder, as your determination grows. You can feel Namjoon’s impending orgasm before he even manages to stutter out a broken warning, the grip in your hair bordering on painful as you suck harder, your tongue dragging along his length one last time before you feel the knot under your fingers begin to throb.

”Oh, fuck– Baby,” You cling to Namjoon’s toned thighs, nails digging into his skin as you feel the first burst of cum hit your throat. The wolf hybrid’s hard cock pulses as he lets out a loud moan, the tail behind his back stilling as he releases his load. You whimper as you feel spurt after spurt trail down your throat, breathing becoming more and more difficult until you’re forced to pull back to swallow it down easier. You gently bob your head, hand once again stroking Namjoon’s length as you coax him through his orgasm.

“Y/n,” Namjoon whines, his legs beginning to tremble from overstimulation as you swipe your tongue one last time over the head of his cock, swallowing down the last of the salty substance lingering in your mouth. You can feel the wetness between your own legs as you pull back to press a chaste kiss to Namjoon’s knee, the wolf hybrid loosening the grip he has on your hair to gently massage his fingers into your scalp. A blowjob has never left you so turned on before, but as Namjoon’s gentle touches against the dull stinging in your scalp continues, the throbbing between your legs is forced to take a backseat as your heart overflows with fondness at how he always finds a way to take care of you too.

You glance up to find Namjoon’s warm eyes already looking at you, the hunger in them still there. ”Let me return the favour,” Namjoon rasps as the hand in your hair glides down over your shoulders, all the way down to the hand resting on his leg. You want it so bad, but– ”Later,” You wince at the hoarseness in your throat, gently patting Namjoon’s injured leg as you say, “Let’s save it for later when your leg has healed.”

”Hmm, you better baby,” The air gets knocked out of your lungs at the smirk Namjoon gives you, the points of his canines just poking out over his lips as he leans back to catch his breath. You take the moment to marvel at the golden skin under your hands, at how Namjoon’s muscles dance underneath your fingertips. Baby. It makes your head swim in the best way. You grin as you trail a finger over the wolf hybrid’s softening cock, Namjoon’s good leg kicking out in protest as you touch the sensitive skin. He’s still dripping, the knot at the base of his cock almost gone. You push up from your knees with a soft groan, but Namjoon catches your hand before you can leave, his gray ears pulling back.

”Where are you going?” The worry in his handsome feature is obvious, and you reach out to smooth the furrow between his brows.

”I’m just going to get a towel to get you cleaned up,” You smile. You can tell the wolf hybrid is still reluctant to let you go, but he eventually relents, squeezing your fingers before he releases it.

You almost grimace at your own reflection as you run the towel under the lukewarm water. You look absolutely wrecked.Your hair is a mess, and you quickly splash some water on your face to attempt to make yourself look a little more presentable. Namjoon cleans himself up quickly as you go to grab something to soothe the rasp in your throat, the wolf hybrid readjusting his sweats around his hips as you settle down next to him.

”Namjoon–” Your breath hitches as he suddenly leans in, the wolf hybrid’s hand reaching up to cup your cheek as he places soft pecks against your lips. You melt into his touch, eagerly moving your mouth against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers curling into the long hair at his nape. A pleased rumble sounds from Namjoon’s chest as you open you lips enough for his tongue to meet yours. You allow yourself to drown in Namjoon – the gentle touch on your cheek and the passionate kisses pulling you under until your mind grows hazy, your lungs screaming for air when you finally break away from his lips.

The wolf hybrid wastes no time moving his lips down your jaw, pressing gentle pecks against your skin all the way down to your neck. Namjoon’s tail wags steadily behind his back as he inhales your scent, the soft kisses turning into nips and licks as he marks your throat. You try your best to get your ragged breath under control as Namjoon takes his time scenting your neck. The wolf hybrid presses a kiss just below your ear; his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he murmurs out a fond, “I like you so much.”

”What?” You squeak, your eyes growing wide as you tug Namjoon back. Even if this is what you’ve been dying to hear, you can’t help but feel a little anxious. Anxious that this might be a mistake, that Namjoon’s affection might be a little misplaced, but still– ”I like you,” He repeats, the confidence in his voice wavering as he says, ”I don’t want this to just be a one time thing. I want this – us – to be more.”

You find yourself nodding along to Namjoon’s words before he’s even finished, a shy grin blooming on your face as you say, ”Me too. I like you too, so much.” Namjoon’s face lights up like the sun at your confession, his ears perked and his tail moving so quickly behind his back you can’t even keep track of it. The pure adoration you find in the wolf hybrid’s eyes make you flush, but Jihyo’s words keep you from pulling away. You have no guarantees that this will work out, but you know that you would be a fool if you don’t even try.

”Good,” Namjoon grins. You card your fingers through Namjoon’s silver locks, just high enough to scratch gently behind one of the wolf hybrid’s ears. Namjoon turns into putty in your hands, his head slumping against your shoulder to allow you easier access to his ears as he lets out a pleased noise. You let out a small giggle, brushing your lips against his cheek as you whisper, ”Good.”

“So ..” You extend your arm behind you, watching Namjoon intently as you say, ”What do you think?” The wolf hybrid’s head tilts as he takes in his surroundings, his gray ears twitching as he tries to pinpoint where all the different sounds are coming from. You’re standing in front of a quaint little cottage in the woods, about an hour drive away from the city and your current apartment. You had fallen head over heels for the property the moment you first saw it, the beautiful stone and wood building screaming your name as you had clicked through the photos. It does need a little TLC, but it’s nothing you and Namjoon can’t fix. The cottage looks like a dream with the lush trees and colourful flowers encasing it, and you can’t help but think that this is the home you’ve been waiting for. The wolf hybrid’s face is unreadable as his golden eyes scan the area, but you notice that his tail twitches, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from getting excited.

“What’s this?” Namjoon strides around the car with ease, no trace of his injury left as he intertwines your fingers with his.

“Well, it’s ours. If you want it,” You bite down on your lip in anticipation as surprise flickers across Namjoon’s face, the wolf hybrid quickly moving his gaze back to the cottage, and the dense woods behind it. “I do,” Namjoon breathes, a brilliant smile settling on his face, “It’s perfect.”

“Oh thank god,” You sigh dramatically, collapsing against the wolf hybrid’s side as he rolls his eyes. He quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you close enough to nose against your neck.

”But are you sure you want to leave the city?” Namjoon says, his tone a little worried at the prospect of you leaving everything you have behind.

You circle your arms around the wolf hybrid’s waist, shifting your position enough to allow you to look up at Namjoon’s face as you say, ”I can write anywhere. The only thing that I need is you,” You rise slightly off the ground, just enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ”And good Wi-Fi,” You add with a grin.

Namjoon snorts as he dips his head down to fit his lips properly against yours, the kiss lazy and sweet as the early summer breeze ruffles your hair. The last four months have thrown you for a loop you never could have expected, but as you stand here with Namjoon, you realize that maybe that’s the beauty of it all. Life might be uncertain, but what isn’t, is that you love Namjoon, and Namjoon loves you back. And that’s all you need to know.

a/n: it took some time but out of the woods is finally finished! i really hope you enjoyed wolf!namjoon’s solo story, he’s really just a big babie and he deserves the best. :( if you liked the story then please drop me a reblog/comment, that would mean the world to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! <3 and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖 i would really appreciate the support!

#hybrid bts #hybrid namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #namjoon smut #hybrid!bts #bts au #bts fluff #bts smut #hybrid au #hybridbtsnetwork #out of the woods

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glimmerglanger · 4 years ago

Note

One more Make Your Bed prompt for the road, because I have no shame: I'd love Cody's perspective on their first time. :D?

:DDDDDDDDD GUESS WHICH PROMPT I TOOK FIRST. I couldn’t resist, I suppose.

ANYWAY, this is obviously post-“Make Your Bed.” It’s a spicy time! Not safe for wizards fic about a couple figuring out how they might fit together. Mentions of canon events and trauma, but not very much. Codywan, first time, sweet and slow.

~~~~~~~~

Cody caught on to kissing quickly. They didn’t do much beyond that, not at first. They were both recovering from exhaustion and injuries. Grief. For the first few days, Cody’s body didn’t even really...respond in the way he expected.

He got no more than half-hard, despite the way his heart picked up and raced with the brush of Obi-Wan’s mouth against his. Apparently, there was only so far he could push his body. He’d reached a limit, somewhere along the way.

They healed, planned, and slept and at some point, he must have...recovered.

He woke up sprawled across Obi-Wan one morning, and it was such a relief, still, to wake up to the immediate reminder that Obi-Wan was alive, with him, and safe. Cody drew in a breath, shifting, and realized that he’d...woken up in a very familiar predicament.

His cock pressed against Obi-Wan’s hip, warm through the fabric of his sleeping clothes. He’d woken up in such a way...more times than he liked to think about. Usually, he rolled out of the bunk and went to handle it in the fresher.

But that had been before they discussed things. Before they kissed.

Cody felt hyper-aware, all at once, of the sprawl of his body against Obi-Wan’s. He recalled, with stunning clarity, the feeling of kissing him. He swallowed, loudly, and Obi-Wan rasped, “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Cody murmured back, fleetingly grateful that Obi-Wan had said nothing about being, well. Up. He held himself very still. His hips wanted to roll, instinctively, but he’d long ago learned how to control that impulse.

They’d kissed. And now they were lying in bed together, both of them...hard, and he wanted.

He shifted. His mouth was very close to Obi-Wan’s throat, and he’d learned - already - that Obi-Wan liked to be kissed there. He slid closer, heart beating fast, and brushed his lips to soft skin, Obi-Wan making a low, welcoming sound.

Cody’s breath stuttered out at the response. Something ached in his gut, fast and hot. Obi-Wan slid a hand up his arm, tilting his head to one side on the pillow, and Cody forgot about why he wasn’t rolling his hips, shifting in a slow grind that sent a flare of pleasure up his spine and made him groan.

He realized, waking up faster by the moment, that he could slide his hand up Obi-Wan’s stomach, under the hem of his shirt, dragging the fabric up. Obi-Wan gasped, twitching under him, pressing into his hand, and--

That was, of course, when Bones commed them to let them know that Amidala was finally waking up.

Cody swore and sat up, half-ready to throttle Bones. Obi-Wan pushed up on an elbow, and Cody glanced at him. He looked… soft. Rumpled. Sad, still, but Cody could hardly fault him for that. Cody’s gaze slid further, quite without his permission, and he shivered at the stretch of fabric across Obi-Wan’s--

Hips.

Cody blinked hurriedly, looking away again, and rasped, “Kriff.”

“Almost, but not quite,” Obi-Wan chirped back at him, with a fast little smile, before rolling out of the bed. And Cody stared at the far wall after Obi-Wan disappeared in the fresher, aching.

Cody felt distracted throughout the day. He was sure that it had been easier to set aside the flares of want in his gut, before. Then again, things between them had...shifted. Just a little. He found himself thinking about that shift, again, after they returned to their quarters in the evening.

He set out the food he’d grabbed from the mess, and Obi-Wan brought over two cups full of tea. They ate, discussed their next move - they’d almost finished the de-chipping enough to consider going to Kamino - and through all of it, Cody’s gut felt tight.

He cut Obi-Wan a sideways look as they straightened away the remains of their meal. They’d lived together for so long, fallen long ago into ritual and pattern. Obi-Wan would, likely, go meditate after the meal. Cody would clean his blaster, review reports.

He had no idea how to...adjust that schedule, to fit in the other things he wanted.

Cody blew out a breath, watching Obi-Wan rinse out their cups in the kitchenette, the throb of want in his gut getting stronger. He flexed his hands out, and, when Obi-Wan turned, washing up finished, Cody put a hand on his shoulder and rocked up against him, brushing a kiss to his mouth.

Obi-Wan made a sweet sound, hand settling at Cody’s hip, tugging him a little closer, so apparently he wasn’t terribly put out by having his meditation delayed. Cody slid fingers back into Obi-Wan’s hair, neck protesting the angle for a tinging moment, before Obi-Wan let himself slouch, leaning a hip against the counter, diminishing the difference in their height.

Cody groaned, because the shift in positions left them pressed together, and he couldn’t stop the roll of his hips. It felt good, and--

And Obi-Wan drew back from the kiss, nuzzling back towards Cody’s ear, and murmured, “I could give you a hand with that, if you like.”

The words made Cody’s hips shift again, and his voice sounded strange when he said, “Yes. I’d like--yes.”

He felt the curve of Obi-Wan’s mouth into a smile against his jaw. “Alright,” Obi-Wan said, and nudged him, coaxing him across the room and to their little bunk. Cody had vague ideas about how - this kind of thing was supposed to go, gathered here and there over the years, but they’d all of them fled his head as he eased down onto the mattress, Obi-Wan joining him a moment later.

He pulled Obi-Wan back into a kiss, pressing against him. It was second nature to press close to him in their bed, after all. Obi-Wan murmured against his mouth, a moment later, “It’s often nicer, without fabric in the way.”

Cody tried and failed to bite back the sound in his throat. He shifted, twisting up enough to pull his shirt off and toss it somewhere far away. He reached for the waistband of his pants and froze as Obi-Wan pushed off his undertunic, and--

Obi-Wan was still too thin. The remains of the damage to his shoulder and back hadn’t completely disappeared, the black and purple color a reminder of what Cody had ordered done to him, and--

“Cody?” Obi-Wan asked, quietly, tunic halfway down his arms, something tense in his voice. “Ah,” he said, a beat later, and started to tug the fabric up again.

“Don’t,” Cody blurted, reaching out to catch his hands, to arrest the movement. “I just.” He shook himself and, still squeezing Obi-Wan’s hands, leaned down into him, pressing a kiss to the edge of the purple mark, hearing Obi-Wan suck in a sharp breath at the touch.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, faintly, as Cody brushed kisses around the edges of the mark. He sank back against the mattress, and Cody followed along, releasing his hands to tug at the tunic, easing fabric out of the way. Obi-Wan ran hands over his skin, in return, touching here and there, everywhere.

Cody half-expected a comm to go off, as Obi-Wan tugged him up to kiss him again, but they stayed blessedly silent.

They stayed silent even as Obi-Wan nudged him over onto his side and slid a hand down his stomach, pausing at the edge of his pants to raise an eyebrow, to say, gently, “We don’t have to.”

Cody jerked out a nod. They’d had...an awkward conversation a few days past, during which Obi-Wan had felt the need to make it very clear that he was not simply expecting sex and would happily go without indefinitely, if Cody had no interest in it. Some people didn’t, he’d said.

Cody felt like he might perish if they didn’t proceed past the current moment. He lost patience and reached down, undoing the latches on his pants himself, and Obi-Wan grinned at him, leaning in to kiss him again, sliding his hand past the waistband and--

Cody had taken himself in hand too many times to count. He’d suspected, vaguely, that it would feel much the same to have someone else touch him. He groaned in pleasure and shock at the first brush of Obi-Wan’s fingers along his aching cock.

Obi-Wan’s fingers were long and slightly cool, callused here and there from years of lightsaber use. But he was so gentle. He stroked carefully, so different from the often perfunctory way Cody touched himself, just trying to bring himself off so he could get back to the rest of the day.

Cody groaned when Obi-Wan finally curled his hand. He pushed his hips up into the circle of Obi-Wan’s fingers, holding onto Obi-Wan’s forearm with one hand, some part of his brain desperate to make sure that Obi-Wan didn’t stop or go anywhere.

Obi-Wan pressed kisses to his jaw and throat as he moved his hand, not going fast as all. He shifted, and Cody gripped at his shoulder, well-aware that he’d...stalled out, almost, that he was just lying there and getting touched and perhaps he should--

“Hm,” Obi-Wan murmured, kissing his chest and shifting again. “I’m going to try something. I suspect you’ll rather like it.”

“What--” Cody started and stopped as Obi-Wan slid down his body, still moving his hand, shoulders bowing over and--

Cody made a strange, ragged sound, all the thoughts running out of his head at once. Obi-Wan had--curled over and licked him, hot and wet, lips just sliding over the tip of Cody’s cock and--

Obi-Wan made a sound that was almost a cough, strange and muffled, because he didn’t lift his mouth away when Cody’s body bowed up and he came, just like that, the touch so surprising and good. He’d had no defenses against it.

It felt--amazing. Cody slumped fully back against the mattress, breathing hard, pleasure radiating up through his gut and leaving him dazed. It was, he thought, not really comparable to what he’d been doing to himself in the fresher for years.

Obi-Wan leaned up, after only a moment, dragging his thumb across his wet bottom lip, a smile crooking up the corners of his mouth. There was no sign of a mess, and Cody groaned again, because - because he was used to the sonic blasting away any evidence, but Obi-Wan had swallowed it, it was inside of him, and--

“I’ll take that as a ringing endorsement of--” Obi-Wan started, and Cody grabbed him, pulling him down to kiss his mouth and shoving him, at the same moment, getting him sprawled on the bed. “Oh,” Obi-Wan said, a moment later, and then, voice getting breathier as Cody focused, “Oh.”

And, after, they curled together just as they’d always done at night, except without any clothes in the way. Skin pressed to skin, Obi-Wan’s back cradled against his chest. Cody let out a shuddery breath, tracing his fingers down the line of Obi-Wan’s side and back up again.

He...hadn’t known what to expect from sex. He’d heard plenty of his brothers talk about it and he’d seen some pornography. But-- he’d been unsure if it would--change things, or…

He slid his hand down Obi-Wan’s side again, around to his stomach, moving his palm up until it rested over Obi-Wan’s heart, beating steady and strong. He blinked his suddenly stinging eyes, burying his face against the back of Obi-Wan’s shoulder, realizing that it hadn’t, really, changed much of anything.

It hadn’t changed how he felt, or - or rewritten the stars. It was just...another little piece of their lives together, slotting into a new shape, a piece of pleasure they could share together and--

“Rest,” Obi-Wan said, softly, covering Cody’s hand with his own, warm and soft and safe in their bed, where he belonged.

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #make your bed lie in it #snippets #codywan #spicy #not safe for wizards #soft and sweet

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h2bakugou · 4 years ago

Note

May I have headcanons for Bakugo, Todoroki and Hawks with an S/O who is or wants to become an heroine yet she faces a lot of backlash because she is the daughter of a -now imprisoned- villain?

a/n: of course! i love this headcanon, thank you for the request love!!

headcanon: them with an s/o who wants to be a hero but faces backlash because of her family.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: fluff, swearing, a bit of angst, mentions of murder/death and violence!

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

Before you even start dating, Bakugou is probably really curious about you. It was all over the news, that you’d gotten into U.A.

And despite the school’s claims to keep every student safe, you still felt like an outcast. Turning down a hall caused heads to turn, kids ducked into classrooms.

You wished people could understand that you weren’t your parents.

Two years ago your parents had been imprisoned for good, in Tartarus. Watching from a cafe tv, you learned that day that your parents were infamous villains that had killed close to hundreds, and injured more. All under your nose.

You were questioned for a while, in fact, the following six months after they got locked up you spent under a police watch. They found it hard to believe that you had absolutely nothing to do with what your parents did. And after several tests, they decided you were innocent.

News broke that you’d gotten into U.A., so much so that your parents even found out, not that you really cared what they thought, they’d lost all your trust.

Bakugou was able to see your determination though. No matter how many times you were called a villain, or some stupid name that the other kids came up with to try and make you leave, you pushed through.

What Bakugou loved the most is how calm you always looked. He knew you were hotheaded underneath it all. But you couldn’t snap at these kids, that would just prove their point.

But he saw you train and work first hand, unlike these kids. Your quirk was strong, it was no surprise you’d gotten into U.A. You were going to be a powerful hero.

When you started dating, a few things changed. Kids still made fun of you and mocked you, but not as much. Bakugou also got to see that what they said really did affect you.

You’d broke down once in front of him.

Bakugou sat on his bed, waiting for you to come join him so you could do homework. You were shuffling through your bag to find your work when you pulled out a note that had some rather nasty words written on it.

You didn’t want to cry in front of Bakugou but it just happened. Tears flooded down your cheeks as you started sobbing. Bakugou heard your cries and jumped up to comfort you.

“Hey, what the fuck is wrong?” Bakugo asked, his harsh sounding tone was more worried than anything.

“Do you think I’m going to be a villain?” You asked, your eyes red and puffy as tears streamed down your cheeks and soaked the neck of your sweater.

“What-no! What makes you think I’d think that about you?” Bakugou’s upset now too, but his eyes find the note that had been in your bag.

“Who wrote that.” Bakugou’s voice was stern, and it didn’t even sound like a question he was asking.

“I don’t know.” You sniffled.

“I’ll find out.”

“They’ll just do it again. I just wish people could understand I’m not like my parents. I want to help people.” You clung to Bakugou as you cried, his arms holding you close to him.

“They’ll see one day. I’ll make them see.” Bakugou kissed the top of your head and let you calm down in his arms.

»»————-　★　————-««

shoto todoroki

»»————-　★　————-««

Before the relationship, Todoroki knows who you are. You were all over tv when your parents were arrested for countless murders.

It was ironic. He was the son of a pro hero, and you were the daughter of two villains. Falling in love with you felt like some sort of twisted comedy.

When you got into U.A., Todoroki was unsure of your motives. You’d been labeled a villain kid, and only destined to follow in your parent’s footsteps.

But you were entirely innocent. You had no hand in what your parents had done, and you vowed to never even speak to them again.

Todoroki got close to you, at first to see if what you were saying was true. He was curious. And wanting to be a hero, he was going to stop any chance of a traitor among his classmates.

But then he got to know you. He found out you were kind, and how much you loved to help people.

You were nothing like your parents

When you started dating, he tried his best to understand what it was like to be you. He’d see kids make fun of you, and even adults when you went ou tin public.

He defended you, and people shut up real quick.

You met his dad once, and though Todoroki said it was probably going to end terribly, you insisted on meeting him.

Endeavor was a bit surprised to see you dating his son. Some of his questions for you made you a bit uncomfortable.

“Your parents are still in jail, correct?” It as so blunt, you felt like crawling under a rock.

“Father-”

“Sho, it’s fine. Uh yes, they’re still in Tartarus.” You answered his question. Endeavor could see the uneasiness on your face and decided the questionnaire could be answered later.

“You really want to be a hero-”

“Yes. I’ve always wanted to help people, helping people makes me happy.” You didn’t even let Endeavor finish his statement. Endeavor nodded and left you two alone.

Word got out that you were dating a pro heroes’ son, and well it sparked a lot of rumors.

For once, Endeavor backed you up. He’d been a bit worried about you, but his words seemed to ease some of the pressure you’d been feeling.

“If she wishes to be a hero, then that’s what she’s going to do. Suspicion is not a means to invalidate her goals and future plans.”

Todoroki has seen you break down a few times, mostly after school when kids would call you a ‘no good villain’ or some other name.

Todoroki comforts you as best as he can, either holding you close to him, or reassuring you that what they say or think isn’t the truth. Or he’ll do both.

Todoroki hates seeing you upset. He knows how bad reputations can ruin someone, and he knows the influence your parents have on you. He’s usually only recognized as Endeavor’s son, so he knows firsthand what being related to a hero or a villain can do.

He’s going to love you no matter what, and he’s helping right alongside you to make sure people understand that you are not your parents.

»»————-　★　————-««

hawks/keigo takami

»»————-　★　————-««

He’s already a pro, and his interest in you peaks when the news of your parents getting caught spreads.

You’re a newer hero, but the backlash of your parents getting caught drags you down. You feel like you’re drowning.

But in this vision where you’re drowning, a vermillion-winged man pulls you out of the water and smiles at you.

Hawks aims to be your friend at first, he can’t lie, you’re very beautiful, but he wants to get to know you. He’s a bit sketchy himself, so if you are some sort of villain he wants to know.

He doesn’t think his comments affect you. He’s a bit oblivious, he’s not intentionally trying to hurt your feelings, but when he does, he sure as hell regrets it.

“So what’s the masterplan, Miss Devious?” The name he used was what everyone called your mother.

“What the fuck did you just call me?” You turn and look at him, your eyes full of both hurt and anger.

“How are we going to catch the bad guys, or maybe, the good guys?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Why would you say that to me? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shove him away as you storm out of the room.

Hawks cocky grin is replaced by an ‘oh shit’ face. He’s really done it in now, and he’s thinking in his head that you’ll never forgive him for this one. All his other jokes seemed to fly, so why was this one so bad?

“Hey, wait up!” Hawks calls to you. He sends a few of his feathers to pin you against a wall so he can talk to you.

“Why are you so mad?” He asks, trying to examine your expression.

“Why am I mad? You just called me my fucking mom’s name. You’re making it really hard to like you. What part of ‘I don’t associate with my parents’ don’t you fucking understand?” You shout at him. Hawks’ lips form a thin line as he thinks about what he’s said.

“I’m sorry.” Hawks apologizes, figuring it’s best to at least make up for what he’s said until he can figure you out.

“Are you? Or are you just saying that so I don’t lash out?” You glare at him. Hawks looks away and sighs.

“I didn’t realize that-”

“That what? After the countless times I’ve been called a villain, that I wasn’t affected by it? Or that maybe the backlash from dozens of media sources and civilians wasn’t enough and that you feel the need to remind me that I’m the daughter of two awful villains?” You snap, tears pouring from your eyes.

“Hey, that’s not what I meant.” Hawks defended himself, his heart aching as you cried.

“I try so fucking hard. I work my ass off to prove that I’m just as good of a hero as anyone else. I fucking love helping people, it’s my job to save and help whenever I can, but it’s never enough.” You sob. Hawks’ feathers return to his wings as he lets you go.

Hawks hugs you and doesn’t let you go.

“I’ve been an asshole, and sorry won’t cut it for how I’ve acted but I want to make it up to you.” Hawks understood a bit better now. You were trying to fight the corruptness of the media. You were labeled awful things while you were just doing your job.

You’d never done an evil thing in your life, and you couldn’t hurt a fly if you tried.

“Why are you saying this now?” You ask, pushing him away.

“Because I fucking love you.” Hawks blurts out. He quickly covers his mouth, his ears turning bright red.

“Wha-”

In the spur of the moment to keep you from saying anything else, Hawks presses his lips to yours, ceasing the awkward question you were about to ask.

After this, it takes a bit of time for you to fully forgive Hawks, but you fall in love with him. He helps you prove yourself, and the two of you become practically inseparable.

Nothing can erase what your parents have done, but every day, Hawks reminds you that you aren’t your parents, and he’ll do whatever he can to make the public understand that too.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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chasing-classics · 4 years ago

Text

It Takes A Man- Ray Diaz x Reader (2)

Pairing: Ray Diaz x Reader

Warning(s): Language, angsty feels, mentions of cheating, SMUT

Summary: In the aftermath of your night with Ray, you struggle to move on from the Diaz men, but find difficulty in forgetting the man in question. What happens when you reunite?

A/N: This will not be a full-length story, I think it’ll just be a fun little miniseries that I’ll work on between drabbles and oneshots, but so many of you loved the first part that I couldn’t help but post the sequel earlier than anticipated. Enjoy, my little deviants!

Part 1

You huffed, barely making it through your front door before the handfuls of grocery bags collapsed at your feet. You cringed, shaking your head upwards at the thought of how all the fresh fruit you just bought at the corner bodega was now bruised. Shuffling your feet, you prodded the cans of various sauces and whatnot out of your way, casually closing the front door with your foot and tossed your purse on the nearby sofa.

Your new apartment had finally been put together in your hasty move from the Diaz household. The drive was not so bad, it was long enough to put distance between Oscar and yourself so that you two could avoid any awkward/angry confrontations on the street. But you were relieved, as was Cesar, that it was no more than a 15-minute drive, 25-minute to half hour walk in case the youngest Diaz brother and his friends ever wished to stop by. The pang in your chest whenever your thoughts drifted towards Cesar was still an entirely fresh wound. The way he yelled and cried in your arms the night he came home still made your e/c eyes well up with tears. You would never forgive yourself for the role you played in the separation. Oscar was by no means innocent; his actions were unforgiveable. He cheated on you more times than you would ever care to admit. He made a fool out of the one person who held him down, the one constant in his life. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t still bitter.

Cesar knew the breakup was looming, in the months leading up to that fateful night you and Oscar had gone for each other’s throats. Initially he only left the house to take care of ‘’Santo business’’ but the smell of cheap perfume contradicted that immediately. Despite your valiant efforts, Cesar walked in on you once or twice just crying your eyes out until they became so painfully puffy. History certainly repeated itself in the Diaz house. The only difference was that you managed to get out in, mentally exhausted but physically fine, while his mother had overdosed not two years after Ray was locked up. Cesar partially felt betrayed by everyone involved. Oscar, Ray, and even you. But Oscar had been the real target of Cesar’s anger and hurt. Had Oscar not made Cesar join the Santos, Cesar would’ve had a normal life and possible ticket outside of Freeridge. Had Oscar not been a complete jerk to you, Cesar could’ve had some resemblance of a family left. He still had you, he still had Oscar. But it was never going to be the same.

That said, what you and Ray had done was anything but innocent. ‘’Fuck,’’ you huffed, tossing your keys in the dish by the entryway. As much as you probably should’ve forgotten all about that night. As much as you tried to dismiss the reminiscing, you found yourself in a losing battle. About the way Ray had felt filling you. The drag and pull movements of his manhood along your velvety walls. You involuntarily shivered and cursed yourself as your mind clouded over in a haze of lust.

‘’No. . .no, we aren’t going back there,’’ you chided, working to tidy up the place. ‘No matter how much I may long to. . .’ you mentally noted as your actions quickened in a pathetic attempt to block the mental image of Ray hovering over you, filling your tightness. The familiar pitter patter of butterflies in your abdomen alerted you of your arousal. The blush that steadily spread across your cheeks did the same.

Ray and you had seldom spoken in the nearly 40 days it took for you to find an apartment in a safe part of Freeridge (upon Oscar’s insistence, to your shock) and for you to gather your belongings and move out (thanks to the efforts of Sad Eyes and Tito, also upon Oscar’s insistence and your shock). When you had said a quick goodbye to your ex of five years and the boy you practically raised since he was a small fourth grader, the longing look in Ray’s eyes was not lost on you. Whereas Cesar walked you to your car, Oscar hung back on the porch trying his best to seem unbothered, Ray leaned against the side gate of the house. A cigarette hung loosely between his lips as he made sure to stay out of Oscar’s line of vision. You didn’t need to look up at him to know he was watching you. To know that look in his eyes. You had the same look as you drove way, only concealing it as to avoid another fist fight between Oscar and his father.

The apartment itself was nice and homey. Your job in real estate, selling mostly houses in Brentwood, made sure that you could afford nicer furniture, a stocked fridge, and lunch money for Cesar. He would alternate, opting to camp out on your charcoal gray couch while Oscar enjoyed the benefits of a newly single life back home. You feigned ignorance or uncaringness whenever Cesar showed up late at night with a sympathetic look in his deep brown eyes, but every time you thought about the girls drifting in and out of the only home you had truly known the past five years, your heart clenched in your throat.

Sad Eyes had been another figure who graced your doorstep every now and then. He insisted it was because of the friendship you and he had maintained since high school, but something told you he was keeping tabs on you. The one, single one night stand you had partaken in a few nights ago just so happened to be cut short (too short) when Sad Eyes conveniently began pounding on the door. The situation had Oscar’s hypocritical jealous antics written all over it. Nonetheless, Jose was a good friend of yours’ and he along with Tito and the other Santos were a big help in setting up the place to your liking.

As you drifted around the entertainment area, around the balcony, and around the kitchen watering your various plants, your brows furrowed. The one person who hadn’t really visited you, aside from Oscar of course, was the one man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

Your night with Ray was far too passionate, or so you thought, to be just a one-time thing. As sick and twisted it might be, as horrible of a person that made you, you couldn’t help but yearn to have another night with the Diaz patriarch. Subconsciously, your hand drifted to your collarbone, sighing through your nose as visions of his strong, rough hands exploring your flesh resonated within you. Part of you shrunk back into your shell, your subconscious telling you that Oscar had clearly taken after his father when it came to breaking hearts. That Ray probably hadn’t been with a woman since being released from prison. That you were just an easy fix, a convenience for him in the form of an insecure and emotionally exhausted hyna. He didn’t see you anything other than a tight hole to keep his dick warm. You bit your lip, hands clutching the kitchen counter until your knuckles turned nearly pale.

But the other part of you felt in your bones that it was not just an easy fix. That, yes lust fueled and spurred his actions, but there was something about the way he looked at you as you drove away from the house. Something that screamed ‘’more.’’ An enchanting, debauching look. Interest, maybe, but still more all the same. More.

Your fingers danced down the valley of your breasts, down your abdomen, until your fingertips made contact with the top of your leggings. Admittedly, you had forgone wearing underwear this particular day, out of laziness, but you were certainly not complaining as your fingers met the wetness of your tight folds. An airy sigh escaped your lips, eyes closed as those fingers danced along your sensitive folds like little ballerinas.

Your other hand began kneading your still clothed breasts, becoming rougher in an attempt to mirror the way Ray had done. Whether it was the forbidden, sinful nature of that night or not, no other man, not even Oscar had made you feel so erotic the way Ray Diaz had. Your eyelids fluttered shut as your moans steadily flowed past your lips like a gentle choir. The middle finger curled in the depths of your core, your index finger gently rolling the sensitive pearl above. The faster your digits worked, the easier it became to imagine Ray’s touch. The smell of his shampoo with the slight musk of his sweat from working out in the front lawn. The way he grunted every time he slammed into your core. The way his eyes went nearly black from pure lust and primal desire when he looked over your quivering form.

‘’R-Ray,’’ you whimpered to yourself, panting as your fingers worked diligently.

‘’Don’t stop, nena.’’

Your eyes flew wide open, your mouth following suit as the man of the hour stood in your front door, learning against the frame. That infamous, lopsided Diaz smirk left no room to question where his boys got it from.

‘’Don’t stop on my account,’’ he repeated, uncomfortably shifting his weight to his other leg, a very noticeable bulge catching your attention immediately. You gulped.

‘’How the f-fuc. . .wha. . .why?’’ you screeched, hand quickly retreating from your pulsing, needy pussy much to your discomfort. You were convinced that he could feel the heat of your blush from across the room.

‘’The front door was unlocked. I know it’s a safer neighborhood, but you still need to-‘’

‘’I meant why the hell are you here?’’ you didn’t mean to sound as bitchy as it had came out, but you were slightly jilted from the way he had ignored you the pas several weeks.

No calls. No texts. No surprise visits. Until now.

The smirk faded from his handsome face, becoming more serious although his eyes showed the slightest hint of a mix of shame and sorrow.

‘’Y/n,’’ he sighed, eyes turning to look down at the floor. It was amazing how, for a split second, the father of two and former Santos member had morphed into a nervous young man. You could almost pinpoint what he looked like younger.

You stilled, heart still racing violently in your chest. He had rarely called you by your name before. Even before you two had sex, it had always been ‘’nena’’ or ‘’mamacita.’’ In fact, you were sure he only used your name once. When he came inside you and sealed your fate. You suppressed a shiver, but Ray quickly caught the effect he still had on you. He regained some of his courage, standing up straight. Your eyes quickly surveyed the way his muscles automatically flexed as his arms folded up and crossed his chest. Damn him.

‘’I’m sorry I haven’t called or visited. . .I wasn’t sure if you wanted anything to do with me considering. . .,’’ his thoughts trailed off, not wanting to discuss the way Oscar had blown up after catching you. One thing you admired about Oscar, that despite his temper he never laid a hand on you. He would rage and toss some furniture in the opposite direction and yell like a madman. But his rage was mostly directed at Ray that night.

‘’We need to talk to you, hermano,’’ Oscar’s deep voice cut the silence as you resisted the urge to glare at the Santos’ leader.

‘’Okayyy?’’ Cesar offered an awkward smile, sitting at the dinner table. The same dinner table that just moments prior had been flung on its’ side as Oscar raged throughout the house. You had barely tossed the scattered food into the trash can before Cesar walked in.

Ray cleared his throat and retreated to the side door of the house, probably smoking a cigarette to calm his nerves as the ‘’adults’’ had their talk.

‘’Cesar,’’ you started, reaching across the table to gently grasp his hand. When had he gotten so big? You never once tried to be the mother he had lost to drugs as a five-year-old. You never took away the authority figure that was forcibly bestowed onto Oscar. You were just Y/n; his brother’s girlfriend. But you knew you were the closest thing Cesar ever had to a mother/motherly figure. And you had fucked it all up.

‘’What’s going on?’’ his thick brows knotted in confusion. You hesitantly glanced at Oscar, him biting back a glare towards you as he sighed.

‘’Y/n is moving out,’’ he mumbled and if you didn’t know Oscar any better, you could’ve sworn there was a hint of sadness in his voice.

‘’Wait.. . what?’’ it broke your heart hearing the confusion and panic in Cesar’s voice.

‘’Cesar, it’s ok. I’ll still be here whenever you need me. It’s just,’’ you trailed off, your own voice wavering as you tried to muster up the best way to explain things.

‘’No it’s not ‘ok.’ Why are you leaving us? Leaving me?’’ Cesar’s voice steadily rose, yanking his hand away from you. The gesture made you wince.

‘’Cesar,’’ Oscar’s tone slowly shifted to that of Spooky.

‘’No! Tell me why she’s leaving. Why is she really leaving!’’ Cesar stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair to the floor. Somewhere outside Ray coughed on a nicotine coated cloud. The room filled with uncomfortable silence.

‘’Cesar. Sometimes, people just fall out of love. Things happen. Life happens. Sometimes even adults make really shitty decisions and they change on each other,’’ your voice remained soft as you sadly looked up at the boy you helped raise. You resisted the urge to look at Oscar’s gutted expression, knowing that if you did you would surely lose it. It had been that exact moment you regretted not leaving the house as soon as Ray walked in just hours before.

Cesar’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, but once his chocolate brown hues fell upon his brother, they quickly hardened with anger.

‘’You did this. . .you fucking had to get your dick wet that bad that you didn’t even consider her! She did everything for us! For you! She was there for me when you weren’t! You were too busy being Spooky that you couldn’t be fucking bothered!’’ he snarled.

‘’Watch your fucking mouth, Lil Spooky,’’ Oscar steadily rose on his two feet, towering over Cesar. You stood as well, ready to jump into the lion’s den if necessary.

Cesar scoffed, a mocking smile on his lips before it quickly gave way to the coldest glare. He looked nearly identical to Oscar. ‘’You’ve given Ray so much shit for leaving us and abandoning his family. . .in reality you’re no better.’’

Oscar lunged forward, the two brothers tangled up as fists were flying.

‘’Oscar stop!’’ you screamed, throwing yourself into your ex, dodging fists left and right. Ray barged back into the house, getting a grip of Oscar as you shoved Cesar in the opposite way. The sound of Oscar’s fist coming into contact with Ray’s jaw echoed throughout the house.

‘’Get the fuck off of me! Get the fuck off of me!’’ Oscar snarled, desperately trying to shove his father off him to no avail. What Ray lacked in height when it came to Oscar, he made up with in strength. You could see Ray struggling to rein in his anger and maintain his grip on his son. Tears filled your eyes as well as Cesar’s as the two of you fell to the floor, watching the two men struggle.

‘’Had enough?’’ Ray grunted. He still smelled like you, and that more than anything broke Oscar.

Oscar managed to shove the Diaz patriarch off, falling back against the wall as he huffed, tears clouding his vision. His eyes fell on you and for once, he saw the damage his infidelities caused blow up in his face. His baby brother crying into your arms, begging it all to stop as you cried to yourself in the corner. Both of you looked so small, you looked so defeated. He had fucked up. You met his broken gaze, shaking your head as if you could will all of this to evaporate. You had fucked up. The next morning, you began looking around Freeridge for apartments. The next few weeks, Oscar helped you load up your car as you moved twenty-five minutes away from the only home you knew. The day after that? You gathered the rest of your belongings and bit back a sob as you held Cesar in a crushing hug. As you looked over his shoulder, you saw Oscar leaning against the porch’s structure, biting his lip as he looked down at you, fighting the urge to ask you to stay. To work through it. But he quickly realized that was what he had been asking of you throughout all of these years. And that is why he remained silent as you pulled out of the Diaz’s driveway. He didn’t move until your car was out of sight.

You shook your head, leaning against the island in the middle of your kitchen. Your hands rubbed and massaged at your temples, biting down on your bottom lip to prevent the tears from falling. ‘’That was on me,’’ you whispered, voice croaking with emotion. You jumped when you felt Ray’s strong hand on your shoulder. You gasped as a jolt of electricity passed through the two of you. Judging from the quick intake of breath, Ray felt it too.

‘’I’m so sorry,’’ he whispered. You straightened out, looking up at Ray despite still only reaching his collar bone. The inner struggle was clear as day in Ray’s eyes. He was undoubtfully attracted to you. But more than that, he admired you. The way you cared for his sons. The way you managed to handle the lifestyle of the Santos while still obtaining your classy demeanor. You were capable of holding down a family. And although you were insecure thanks to what his eldest son had put you through, Ray wanted nothing more than to reassure you of your worth.

You hesitated for just a moment, before lunging upwards and meeting Ray in a passionate kiss. A kiss that conveyed all the words you wished to say, but didn’t have the strength to voice. His hands clutched your hip and cradled the side of your neck as he returned the kiss tenfold. Whether it was lust, genuine interest, curiosity, or some weird concoction of all three you found it entirely all too easy to throw caution to the wind around this man.

You nipped at Ray’s bottom lip playfully, biting back a grin when you solicited a low moan from him. Pride be damned. Morals be damned. You had no obligation to Oscar anymore. Cesar didn’t need to know about this. It would just be a secret between the two of you.

The whimper that escaped your lips as he forcefully tugged off your top sent shivers down Ray’s spine. He grunted when his eyes feasted on the exposed skin. Without him even asking you, you unclasped your bra and stood topless in front of him. He dove down, expertly taking your nipple into his hot mouth and began twirling his tongue around your hardened bud. You moaned mewled, hands running through his short hair and roaming his broad, muscled back. Your eyes rested on the faded Santos cross on his arm, whimpering when he nipped at your sensitive skin.

‘’R-Ray,’’ you moaned lowly, mouth falling open when his hand made contact with your ass in a playful slap. You had no time to recover before he pulled away from you, gently turning you so that your front was pushed and pinned against the cool surface of the granite island. You hissed as your already hard, sensitive tits pressed against the freezing surface. You rested your cheek against the counter, shivering as Ray yanked down your leggings.

‘’Fuck,’’ he moaned, seeing your wet core fully exposed and presented to him.

‘’You’re going to be the death of me mami,’’ he whispered, pressing his bulge against your gaping hole. You bit your lip at the heat that emitted from his still clothed cock. You knew what was awaiting you and your insides coiled at the anticipation.

Each of his massive hands took a firm hold on the globes of your ass, gripping them and spreading you apart so that you were on full display under him. You let out a shaky breath between panting when his hot saliva met your tightness. His thumb spread it against your folds, teasing your clit before diving two fingers into your awaiting cunt. Ray all but growled at the way you gripped his digits. The delicious way you pulsed and clenched excitedly around his middle and index finger. He found himself constantly thinking, ‘I could get used to this.’

‘’Ray,’’ your needy voice broke him out of his thoughts as he folded over you, you feeling ever muscle of his chest against your bare back as he pressed light kisses against your shoulder before finally meeting your cheek and then your plump lips.

‘’I need you,’’ you whispered, leaning into his kisses and sighing when you heard him pull himself from his pants.

‘’You have me, princessa,’’ he grunted, working himself with one hand as the other tangled with yours’. ‘’You have me, all of me,’’ he groaned thrusting his hips forward and filling you with a brutal, singular thrust. You cried out, the burn of him stretching your tight canal was familiar and slightly painful, but divine all at once. His hand clenched yours, as if assuring you that you were ok, his lips still kissing the tears that threatened to escape the corners of your eyes.

‘’Fuck y/n,’’ he groaned, savoring the feel of his cock dragging within your tight pussy, pulling you back towards him as bit, only for you to bounce forward as he thrusted back into your core. He set a fast, brutal pace as the sounds of his thrusts echoed off the walls. You were grateful that your neighbors were at work, the wanton mewls and cries that escaped your lips would’ve surely caught their attention. As his hand held yours throughout the entire time he fucked into you, the other had a firm grip on your shoulder. Pinning you down so that you couldn’t slip from his cock and pulling you back to impale yourself on to his thickness.

You attempted to burn the sounds of his grunts and groans, as well as the squelching of your tight core every time his hips snapped against you from behind, but soon became overwhelmed. He was heavy and hot inside of you. You could feel exactly where he was every time he was seated inside of you. Your body bounced in tune with his movements, but the feeling of his heavy, throbbing manhood in your cunt was something you’d always savor.

Before you could even speak, waves of euphoria crashed within you as your release fell over his still hard cock. You could only cry out his name, panting it out as his hold on you tightened. He pressed fully against you, curling over your back as his cock throbbed and pulsed violently, painting your insides with his release.

His arms wrapped around your front, dragging you so that you rested against his chest, impaling you on his still solid dick. With awkward movements he led you past the kitchen, into your bedroom while every step you took resulted in another jolt as you practically balanced yourself on his cock.

Ray only pulled out briefly, laying you on your back on your mattress. He hovered over you, panting as his eyes glazed over at the sight of you. Your hair sprawled out like a crown around you, chest heaving with your labored breath and the post-orgasm tremors that shook you. What really caught his attention was the sight of your pretty pussy, still impossibly tight, dripping with his load onto your sky-blue comforter.

‘’Ray,’’ you whispered, reaching up for him. He laid over you, crashing his lips against your lips, seating himself back inside you. Your hands clawed at the white tank he still had on, only or him to pull away slightly and yank it off, tossing it carelessly into the corner of your room. His sweatpants were next along with any other article of clothing he had previously worn. All that was left was himself, bare and all.

Your leggings had been long abandoned in the kitchen and the moment his bare skin met yours, your fates were sealed. It was hot, passionate, deplorable, mind-blowing, wicked, otherworldly sex. Your nails embedded themselves into his back and shoulders, your legs wrapping around his hips as they crashed into you. Your moans mingled with one another, lips and teeth occasionally clashing against each other as he moved in you.

‘’It’s been too fucking long without this tight pussy, princessa. My pussy,’’ he growled, hammering into you as you struggled to keep up with his thrusts. Your clutched the comforter beneath you as that familiar coil began curling and tightening within you. He was reaching new depths, exploring new parts of you that you didn’t even know existed. And all you could do was lay there, moan out his name, and take it.

‘’Fuck, Ray, yes, fuck it feels so good,’’ you whined, throwing your head back as he began nipping and sucking on the column on your neck.

‘’Cum for me, mi reina,’’ he grunted, every muscle flexing as he moaned and panted above you. His hands were wrapped around your hips, dragging and pulling you upwards to meet his thrusts. The coil was impossibly tight, tears running down your cheeks and falling onto the bed below from the sensation of it all.

But came you did, violently around his manhood. You shook underneath him, mouth warped into an ‘’o’’ shape as you sighed and moaned under him. His thrusts sped up, to your shock, and it all came to a close the moment he pulled you to him, tucking his face into the base of your neck as his hot, thick load filled you once more.

As he pulsed within you, your pussy clenching and unclenching from the aftermath of two mind-blowing orgasms back to back, you simply laid there. You basked in the aftermath of it all, shivering when his load began dripping out of you and pooling onto the blanket, leaving a quarter-sized dark spot in its’ path. Once your breathing returned to normal, Ray met your eyes, a softness in them. His mouth met yours in a comforting, warm kiss. He was still inside you when you closed your eyes and fell into a satisfying, deep sleep.

When you had opened your eyes, it was visibly night-time. The orange glow of the streetlights illuminated your bedroom from your sheer curtains. Ray was knocked out beside you, one muscled arm thrown over your side in a protective manner. A small smile graced your lips, widening when you felt the strangely satisfying soreness between your legs.

You quietly got out of bed, maneuvering around the apartment to get a glass of water while trying not to disturb Ray. You had no idea where this was going to lead you. You weighed the possibilities. To date your ex-boyfriend’s father just seemed so ridiculous and wrong. No matter what Oscar had put you through with his infidelities, to go ahead and enter a relationship with his father just seemed cruel to you. And what would Cesar think if he were to catch you and Ray together? At the same time, you didn’t want to say goodbye to Ray. Aside from great sex, you felt a genuine connection with him. He was older, yes, but he made you feel things that nobody ever had. You huffed, sipping on your water as you felt the beginnings of a headache approaching. A sudden knock and turn of your front door startled you to the point you nearly dropped your glass onto the hardwood floor.

‘’Y/n,’’ Cesar’s voice was muffled, but clear as day through the door.

You gulped, body stiff with shock and fear. From your bedroom, the mattress creaked as Ray sat up, eyes groggy with sleep.

‘’Y/n?’’ he called out, getting up to check what the commotion was.

‘’Fuck me,’’ you sighed, mind racing and heart rising to your throat once more. You were so fucked.

#on my block #Ray Diaz #spooky diaz #cesar diaz #omb fic #ray x reader #freeridge #ray diaz x reader #Smut #on my block smut

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yandere-daze · 4 years ago

Text

`Til death do us part

Yandere Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

So I recently got into Twisted Wonderland and I love Riddle so much so I decided I had to do something for him ( as I promised with the drawing). This is what I came up with! Thank you so much for your help and listening to me scream about this @naranciabestboi ! I hope you enjoy it!!

Under cut for length!

Summary : Your parents had made plans for an arranged marriage, Riddle however was not pleased by this at all.

You held the letter in your shaking hands, rereading it´s contents over and over again to see if there was anything you had missed. Surely there had to be some kind of mistake on your part, you had to have misread something. Your reading comprehension has never been the best so surely there was a possibility at least? But no matter how long you stared at that cursed letter in your hands, the same cold hard truth was contained within the elegantly written words that were scrawled across the paper in a neat manner.

“Dear Y/n,

Your mother and me have observed your progress at Night Raven College quite closely and we are proud to see how far you have gotten with your studies. But don´t let this praise get to your head, you still have a long way to go if you want to one day become a worthy ruler and heir of the L/n name. So please remember to keep studying to one day achieve your goal.

But this is not the only reason I decided to write this letter to you. You see I have the greatest of news for you: Crown prince Ayers of the Devereaux family is currently looking for a spouse to rule beside him once he becomes king and ascends the throne. As far as I remember, you two have met before, haven´t you? It was but a year ago at one of the Devereaux family’s grand birthday celebrations. The young prince seemed to be quite struck with you back then, didn´t he? He is currently accepting offers from nobles all over the continent but your mother and me are very confident that you will prevail. A union between you both would be of great benefit to both of our countries and greatly improve our influence. Y/n please hear me out: I know how you might feel about this arrangement, but we are sure that this is for the best so we are not allowing any sort of protest or defiance from you. We have already offered your hand in marriage to prince Ayers. One day you will thank us for this.

Now then, we wish you the best of luck on your studies and we will hear from each other soon. It has been a long time since we last heard of you, so do send us a reply as fast as possible.

Signed,

D/n and M/n L/n”

You felt as if a burning hole had just opened up in your stomach as the situation you were in finally settled in. Your parents were trying to set you up on an arranged marriage? With someone you barely knew? Sure, you had met Ayers once but you didn´t have too high of an opinion on him. To you he was a bumbling fool that didn´t know when to stay quiet. You had made it quite clear that his presence wasn´t appreciated, but he either didn´t seem to take the hint or he just straight up ignored your resistance, because he kept asking you to dance with him the whole evening and in the hopes of him finally letting up on you, you reluctantly complied. Which looking back on it now was a huge mistake, as it was what put you into this miserable situation in the first place. You remember back then when your parents caught a glimpse of you two dancing, they looked so very excited for you, something you couldn´t quite comprehend back then. But now it all seemed so clear to you: Even back then, they were trying to find someone to arrange a marriage with, seeking to spread their influence and power. They said that they cared about you and that they only had your best interests in mind but you knew that you were secretly just a means to climb the social ladder even further. Because if they had truly cared about your wellbeing then they wouldn´t have forced you into this situation. Now you knew you were done for, doomed to marry someone you didn´t love and wanted as far away from you as possible. Right in this moment you wanted to vent out your frustration and anger: You wanted to punch the wall, scream your lungs out and let your angry tears flow freely but ended up doing none of that, barely containing your emotions as you heard footsteps approaching, heading right into your direction. You had to compose yourself. Whoever this was, you didn´t want them to see you in this state. You straightened your back as you slowly tried to ease the tension out of your shoulder while willing your face muscles to put a small smile on your face. Hopefully this would be enough to convince anyone passing by that you were fine and didn´t need anyone´s help right now.

Clack clack clack

You heard a familiar sounding fall of footsteps growing closer and closer until the sound faded as the person came to a stop seemingly right beside you. You forced your smile to grow just a tiny amount wider as you turned around to face to face whoever came by.

And as they exclaimed your name, you immediately knew just who was standing before you now.

“Y/n?”

-----

Riddle was on his way to head back to the Heartslabyul dormitory after class, as he saw the vague shape of a person standing just a few meters away from him, seemingly distracted. He at first didn´t plan to pay any attention to it, as he had enough important matters to attend to and surely, he wasn´t the right person to vent their problems to but as he got closer and closer, he was able to identify the student standing there. How could he not? He had practically memorized everything about you. Y/n L/n. The one person that was always there for him when all the other turned away from him. You were one of the only people that he felt like he could be himself with and he treasured your existence like no one else. You were the one spark in his otherwise bleak life that kept him going and gave him hope for a bright future. A future with you, ideally. But he couldn´t get too carried away now. Taking one good scrutinizing look at you, he was able to tell that something was wrong, the smile you had on your face looked forced, far too wide to be considered a natural one. You looked shaken and your shoulders were slightly trembling as if you were on the verge of crying. Just what could have put you into this state? Did someone hurt you? If that was the case then he needed to find out who it was and then have a rather stern…talk with the culprit. But first, he had to make sure that you were okay and maybe cheer you up a bit.

“Y/n?”, he called out to alert you of his presence if you hadn´t heard him approach yet. He wouldn´t doubt it from how distracted you looked. But he couldn´t help but feel his heart swell as your eyes lighted up in recognition and your shoulders lost some of their previous tension.

“R-riddle!”, you exclaimed in slight surprise as you shifted your arms around a bit. Riddle didn´t miss how you tried to casually put on of your arms behind your back, a sheet of paper clutched tightly in your hand as you put in the effort to try and hide whatever that was. He couldn´t help but slightly furrow his brow at this. He could easily guess that this letter was the cause of your distress and he felt irritated that you even tried to hide this from him, even if it was a poor attempt. Did you not trust him with your problems?

“Uhm.. fancy seeing you here haha…” He couldn´t help but chuckle in amusement despite the current situation, you very visibly cringed from how fake your own attempt at casualness sounded.

“Y/n I live here. And also, please show me what you are hiding beneath your back, you look really upset” At this, your shoulders tensed up again as you nervously shifted your weight from one foot to the other while you stammered out an excuse. “I-I don´t know what you´re talking about! I´m not hiding anything and I feel fine!” Your voice continued to stagger as your eyes locked onto anything besides Riddle´s face, which he didn’t like at all. Not one bit. Deep within him he felt the desire for you to look at him, to look only at him and no one else. For you to grace him with one of your radiant smiles that he had grown in love with. Yes, love. Oh, he loved you so dearly, your entire being and soul. He wanted to hold onto you tight and never let go. But he was getting sidetracked now, he really needed to get to the bottom of this current issue that laid before him. There was something you were anxious about and even worse tried to hide from him, that just wasn´t acceptable.

“Rules of the Queen of Hearts No. 404: Never tell a lie when talking to your ruler! And so badly as well. I demand to know what you have there behind your back!” Your eyes widened in shock, surprised that Riddle had seen through your oh so flawlessly crafted lie. Then after the initial shock had registered in your system you were quick to raise your eyebrows at his remark. “My…ruler? Really now?” Riddle couldn´t help but show off a proud smirk at that. “Yes, your ruler. Your dorm leader, you know? It´s basically the same thing but really that´s beside the point. You should not be lying to me in any kind of fashion, especially when you look so horribly distraught.” His eyes softened at the last part of his speech. Yes, he was a bit irritated at your stubbornness but he genuinely wanted to know what had happened. And who he needed to have a very stern scolding with.

“Well…okay. Because it´s you Riddle. I-I don´t think I can tell you myself but please just take a look at this letter it´s just….” You weren´t even able to finish your sentence before Riddle practically ripped the letter from your hands, his gaze practically devouring the words that were displayed on the paper. Y/n parents, they want to set them up on an arranged marriage? With someone like this? He couldn´t believe this was happening as he grew more and more furious, he ended up almost tearing the letter apart from how much his hands were shaking in rage. Who do they think they are, taking his dear y/n away from him like this? He had already planned his entire future with them, how he would confess in front of the rose bushes while watching the sunset together, how they would move in together after Night Raven College, how he would one day propose to them and they would get married... Yes married. They would get married one day. He would get his happily-ever after, no matter the cost. Y/n´s parents had the audacity to take them away from him so they had to pay a price! Riddle was much better suited as y/n´s future husband, he had so much more to offer! They would be fools to choose that Devereaux wanna-be noble over him!

You must have seen how infuriated he had gotten as you laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and as Riddle looked into your watery eyes, barely being able to hold the tears back, he came to a decision. He had to do something about this, there had to be a way out of this arranged marriage, even if it was the last thing he did. That wretched fool wouldn´t get to hold you in his arms, he would make sure of that. And as you circled your arms around him in a hug and wet his shirt as you finally let your tears flow, he came to the idea of just what he had to do to keep you by his side.

His face was slightly flushed from the gentleness of your touch as he ran a comforting hand over your back. “Y/n”, he murmured and you gently raised your head to look him in the eye. “I think”; he continued in a soft tone, so very different from his current mental state; “I think I know a way out of this miserable situation.” Your pretty eyes widened at this and displayed various emotions: surprise, confusion, intrigue, and also... hopefulness. “How so, Riddle? I don´t think my parents can be so easily swayed, they seem pretty set on marrying me off to some wealthy noble.” “And that´s exactly my point.” Now you just looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean? I don’t know what you´re getting at. I don´t think that- “

“Just let me finish explaining y/n”, he lightly scolded you as he waved a finger in front of your face. How adorable your little pout was. He could look at you all day. And he would.

“So, your parents want you to marry this man because they want to gain influence through combining your countries wealth, right?” He waited for you to give him a reluctant nod before continuing. “But what if coincidentally, an even better suitor appeared right before their eyes and pleaded for your hand in marriage? If they had a way bigger influence? They would drop these silly plans, wouldn´t they?” You tilted your head as if to properly think over what your dorm leader just told you before your expression lightened up, your mouth forming a surprised o-shape. “It seems like you understand what I´m trying to say, right? The Rosehearts name is a prestigious one indeed. I don´t think your parents would ever dare to dismiss the chance for their child to be called Y/n Rosehearts, would they? So, I thought of this solution. We write a letter to your parents, saying that you are already in a relationship with me and that we are planning a wedding in the near future. Because of this you can´t accept their oh so gracious offer.” “And then!”, you continued for him.” And then, when Ayers announces that he found a proper spouse we can stop the act and go back to being friends like before! Riddle that´s a great plan! What would I ever do without you?”

Yes, what indeed would you do without him? He wanted to properly enjoy the notion of being so important to you but the rest of your naively uttered comment left a very bitter taste in his mouth. You wanted to go back to being friends? He´s going to agree for now but that is not how this will end. Surely, after you two had spent so much time together pretending to date, he would be able to steal your heart and make you fall in love with him as much as he loved you. You would be his after this, he won´t let you break things off, surely you would see things his way after this.

“Exactly”, he instead said and told you that you two should get to writing the letter as soon as possible so the arranged marriage could be stopped. The very same day, the letter had been written and sent, talking about how you two had fallen in love during your school days and how you were already engaged to him. Yes, that detail was something Riddle was strangely persistent with. “It´s easier to sway them with this”, he had answered to your questions and you didn´t pay it much more mind. You trusted him completely and that´s exactly what Riddle adored about you.

He ran a delicate hand over the word “engaged” before slipping the letter into a fancy envelope and sending it out to be delivered as soon as possible.

Everything would fall into place and you would finally be his.

------------------

As you had guesses, your parent´s response to you and Riddle´s supposed engagement had been ecstatic, talking about how proud they were of you and how they couldn´t wait for you two to get married. Yeah, you were sure they were; you thought sarcastically. Much to your delight, the plans for you to get married to Ayers Devereaux had been tossed out the window completely as well. At least for the time being. So much to them wanting the best for you, they were only interested in the noble title since the beginning. When you told the good news to Riddle, he seemed almost happier than you were. Well, that is to say a wide smile appeared on his face, which in his standards was a truly rare expression, saved for only very rare moments. This seemed to be one of them.

“I can´t believe it Riddle, your plan actually worked out! I can´t thank you enough for this!” It was true, he had really gotten you out of an almost impossible looking situation, thanks to him a heavy burden was lifted from your shoulder, you felt as if you could finally breathe easy now. “Don´t thank me just yet, y/n. It´s still not over, far from it in actuality.” You tilted your head in confusion at your dorm head´s sudden exclamation, not quite understanding what he was trying to say. “Y/n, don´t tell me you forgot already.” Noticing that you indeed seemed to have forgotten, he sighed in exasperation and lightly shook his head. “Did you already forget the second part of our plan? Perhaps even the most important one? Really, what am I to do with you?” You chuckled in slight embarrassment, not wanting to directly admit that you had forgotten about such an important detail but made it clear that you wanted him to continue. Seriously what was he talking about? “Alright so think about it like this: Out of the blue, one of the most important students in this school, the dorm head of Heartslabyul has just announced that he was going to get engaged to another student at school. Yet they were never even seen exchanging any kind of affection that could be seen as romantic? That doesn´t make a lot of sense, now does it? You would expect them to act like a couple, wouldn´t you?” You considered what your friend just told you and came to the conclusion that what he just said did make sense, he had a point. “Then what are we supposed to do in your opinion?”, you asked tentatively. You had an idea as to what he might propose but you didn´t just want to assume and push him into something he might not want. He had already done so much for you, you didn´t want to put even more pressure onto him. “It´s quite obvious, isn´t it?”, he answered your question while absentmindedly crossing his arms in front of his chest. “We have to act like a couple if we want people to believe us.”, he added with a slight smirk on his face. You knew it was coming but you couldn´t help but still feel surprised about it now that it was actually said. “Are you sure you want to do this? You don´t have to push yourself like this…” Riddle let out another sigh as he once again shook his head. “Don´t worry, I´m perfectly fine with this. And besides, what would be the alternative to this? Your parents finding out that we were just pretending and going back to that foolish prince to once again start discussions about your potential marriage? Now I´m pretty sure that neither of us wants that.” You wanted to retaliate something, anything, because it seemed pretty awkward for you to act like you are in love with your best friend but you didn´t really have a better idea than him and he was right. “Alright then. So, what should we do first? How are we going to go about this?” “Don´t worry to much about it, I already have everything planned out. Just leave it to me.”, he answered your question with a knowing smile on his face as he reached out his hand for you to take. With a light flush to your cheeks thanks to the gentle contact, you took ahold of his hand and let him lead you to who-knows where.

-----------------------

The first place Riddle took you to was the kitchen in the Heartslabyul dorm, where Trey was already working on preparing the tarts and cookies for the redhead´s afternoon tea session. “Ah Trey, it´s good to see you. Would you care to prepare a larger serving for today? I want to share your delicious sweets with my beloved as we drink tea together.” Riddle had said this so casually, with such a practiced normalcy, that Trey´s shocked reaction of almost dropping the tart he had been working on just mere moments ago contrasted almost funnily contrasted with your “lovers” serious behavior. “Your… beloved? Riddle, did I hear that quite right? I think I might have misheard.”, Trey asked awkwardly while trying to fix the mess he had just caused in the kitchen involuntarily. “Yes, that is quite right. You see, y/n and me share a special connection with each other so it´s only natural that I want to spend more time with them. I assumed that´s what happy couples do, or am I mistaken?” You yourself where almost taken aback by how serious your friend sounded, even if you knew firsthand that it was only an act he had put on. You knew that Riddle was a genius but you didn’t expect him to be so good at acting as well, you were almost convinced by his words alone and he hadn´t even said more than a few sentences. “So, you two are together? Since when?” Trey looked befuddled as he fixed his head that was threatening to fall off from all of its owner´s abrupt movements. You decided to let Riddle do the talking because he seemed to be much more composed than you felt, you didn´t trust yourself to start speaking now without your voice shaking. “Indeed, we are a couple. We´ve been together for some time now but had decided to keep it a secret until now. Y/n was a bit nervous about everyone knowing about us so I kept quiet about it as well. I hope you understand.” Right at this moment, the teapot started making loud noises, indicating that the water was now boiling and ready to be poured. “I understand. To your luck, I actually already made a bit more than usual, so you are more than welcome to take everything here.” “Splendid!”, Riddle exclaimed before looking at you. “Thank you very much!”, you thanked Trey while grabbing most of everything you two needed for your teatime, causing your arms to be completely overloaded with pastries. You said your goodbyes before leaving the kitchen and following Riddle down the hallway. On your way to what you assumed was the garden a familiar looking figure came into view. Judging from the general large statue of this person as well as the tell-tale white fluffy ears, it was Jack Howl that was currently walking right in your direction. When he came closer and finally recognized your face behind the mountain of treats in front of your face, his ears quickly peaked up as he gave you a greeting. “Y/n, why are you carrying all of this stuff? Is this some kind of punishment from the dorm head?”, he tilted his head quizzically while looking at the mentioned person calmly walking beside you. “We are, in fact, walking to the gardens to have a tea party- date. I would appreciate it if you could move out of our way swiftly.” You couldn´t help but notice that Riddle´s tone had gotten a bit snappish, a light glare lingering on his face, indicated by the way his eyebrows furrowed. “D-date? Uh sure, I will but why are you making y/n carry everything by themselves? They look overwhelmed and you aren´t carrying anything. Come on, let me help you carry this.” You smiled in gratitude as you thanked Jack for his great help as he leaned over to take some of the weight off of you, lightly brushing against your arm in the process. Suddenly, Riddle grew very red in the face, the color now rivaling the intensity of his red hair. “Unbelievable! Stop this insolence at once!” Surprised by his sudden outburst compared to his calm state before, you and Jack turned your heads to properly look at him once more. He was fuming, his hands almost shaking. “What´s wrong, Riddle?”, you asked innocently. What had happened? Had you accidentally broken a rule again? But you had done that several times before and he had never reacted this badly in any of the other instances. So, what was wrong? “You want to know what´s wrong? Rules of the Queen of Hearts No. 420: Never touch your ruler´s property! You´ve made a great mistake breaking this rule, Jack Howl!” He seemed truly mad right now for some reason and with a wave of shock you saw him raising his magical pen. Surely, he wasn´t meaning to-

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”, Riddle screamed as he let his magic roam free. Few seconds passed before the heart shaped collar appeared around Jack`s neck. “Why you-!”, Jack growled. “Riddle why did you do that? What´s gotten into you? He just wanted to help me, that´s why he touched the tarts! If anything, it´s my fault as well.” But Riddle didn´t look like he even wanted to consider your exclamation before he promptly grabbed your hand once more, this time quite a bit more tightly as he started walking ahead and pulling you along with him, not paying any mind to the yelling man you two had left behind. You walked quite some minutes before you two came to a stop at a very familiar sight. You were greeted by the beautiful sight of rose bushed that were painted red and a fancy looking decked table. Carefully you set down everything you had to begrudgingly continue to carry on your own because of what happened just a few minutes ago. The thought still wouldn´t leave your head. Why had Riddle reacted so strongly to Jack touching the sweets? After all, hadn´t Trey technically touched them as well when he made them? How would you even bake something without touching it? You swore, these rules kept making less and less sense to you, this was ridiculous. Seemingly noticing that you were still upset, the redhead sighed as he sat in the chair facing yours as he reached his hand over the table, encouraging you to take it. You were still mad so you refused to do so and instead just stared right into his eyes, trying to convey your disagreement with what he had just done. Sensing your hesitancy after refusing to take his hand even after several seconds had already passed, a steely look crossed Riddle´s face as he sighed once more, this time sounding more disappointed as he decided to take the initiative and practically leaned over the table to take your hand that laid out before you on the table and pulling it more towards where he could reach better. Looking down at your now entwined hands, you felt frustration take over, still not understanding what had happened. “You know”, Riddle broke the lasting silence as he simultaneously ran his fingers over the back of your hand which you interpreted as his way to try and calm you down to make you listen. “I wasn’t mad because of the tarts.” At this, you were surprised. What else could he have gotten mad about then? “But I thought you said that he touched- “ “Yes that is what I said. But I wasn´t talking about the tarts.” Now it was your time to be confused. “But then what…” “You.”, he simply uttered. “Huh? What?” “I said, you were what I was mad about. That filthy animal was touching you, I couldn´t allow that.” Was he serious right now? “But Riddle, Jack wasn´t touching me inappropriately, he was just trying to help me! It was barely a sliver of a touch!”, you protested. Also... does that mean he saw you as his property? Because that was what the rule implied, wasn´t it? Never touch your ruler´s property! That didn´t sit right with you at all. “That doesn´t matter, he still broke a rule and for that he needed to be punished. How am I going to make people obey the rules when they never get punished for breaking them?” You still didn´t agree with what he was saying but didn´t know what to tell him anymore so you decided to keep quiet and just looked at him with a disappointed glare. Sensing your slight animosity, he rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand in a soothing manner as he tried to calm you down again.

“Okay y/n, I admit, I might have been a bit to harsh to him, so can we please just forget about this and change the topic? I don´t want our first date to start on such a sour tone.” You were begrudgingly going to accept Riddle´s apology, fully aware that it was just in his nature to be a bit strict with rules, until the last part of his statement fully settled in. “F-first date??”, you choked out in shock. Amused by your demeanor, your “suitor” couldn´t help but chuckle.

“That is what I said, isn´t it? If we want people to believe us then we must act more like a couple would, wouldn´t you agree? And one very important part is going on dates with your significant other. Or so I´ve heard. So, let´s make the most out of our shared time together, shall we?” He then reached for one of the two plates you brought along and laid it out in front of him as he put the other one away and meticulously cut a big piece out of the strawberry cake sitting down in front of him. You were about to once again protest, were you not going to get any cake? That was until Riddle dug into the sweet treat with his fork, making sure to gently balance the cut-out chunk on top of the eating utensil as he slowly leaned forward again, fork in hand. You watched him quizzically until the inviting sweetness stopped right in front of your closed mouth as Riddle looked at you expectantly as he softly poked your lips with the fork in an attempt to coax you into opening your mouth for him. “Well?”, he asked with an impatient but also clearly smug expression on his face, “Aren´t you going to open your mouth for me? You don´t want the cake to go to waste, do you?” “Just give me my own pla- “, you were cut off as Riddle used this opportunity to forcefully shove the fork into your mouth and though you were surprised by his sudden impulsiveness you couldn´t help but marvel at the sweet aromas that filled your mouth right in that instant. It was so good, you couldn´t help but let out a pleased sigh.

“See? That wasn´t too hard, was it? And there´s more from where that came from.”, Riddle teased as he cut out another piece of cake with his fork. And though you were flustered beyond belief at his almost out of character behavior, you couldn´t say you minded too much.

--------------------------

It´s been a week since you two started this arrangement and everything had been going according to plan. It all went so perfectly, Riddle couldn´t help but think. He still couldn´t help but blush when he recalled how bold he had been that afternoon when he affectionally fed you cake and how you had seemed to greatly enjoy it as well after your initial hesitancy. You were coming around to the idea of you two becoming a couple for real, he could just feel it already. He couldn´t wait for you two to get married, the preparations were running along so smoothly now. He had picked out the perfect wedding venue, a breathtaking garden that was filled with beautiful red roses that would create a wonderfully romantic atmosphere, though he did have to admit that he wasn´t the most well-versed person when it came to decorations. He guessed that he just had to ask you for your opinion when he finally brought the joyous news to you that you would get married in just a few days from now! Wasn´t that wonderful? You two would be joined in a harmonious and happy union for the rest of your life! Ah he felt his heart swell with longing and excitement when he pictured you in your wedding attire, waiting for him at the altar to exchange your vows of never-ending and eternal love. He wanted to hear it so desperately, that you loved him just as much as he loved you, that you would never abandon him and spend the rest of your life together in a far away home. It was his dream, the one thing he couldn´t live without. He had sacrificed so much during his childhood, he was never allowed to have free time or spend time with his friends, he wasn´t allowed to eat unhealthy desert, he was forced to always give it his all even when he was on the brink of passing out from exhaustion. He wouldn´t let anyone ever take you away from him, you were way to precious to him. That was exactly why he had to get rid of any potential threats that could endanger your blossoming love, and the very first person on his list of targets was one Ayers Devereaux, that foolish prince that had tried to marry his y/n before Riddle could even confess his love to them. It had thrown him completely out of the loop and taken him by surprise. He had felt panic, anger, sadness, despair. All of these very strong and intense emotions that had almost seemed to overwhelm him at the time. He couldn´t ever risk this to happen again so he had to act quickly. Now of course he couldn´t just let the crown prince of a rising kingdom disappear into thin air, it would have been way too suspicious and he wanted to avoid the political drama at any costs. So instead, he went with a more pacifistic approach. Instead of having that noble murdered in cold blood, he had instead opted to look for a different spouse for him and set the two up. And from what he has heard from his messengers, his operation went successfully, the both of them were now officially engaged and that prince posed no threat to their love anymore. And on top of that, Riddle had been keeping a close eye on you all this time, spending as much time with you as he could and driving away any other possible suitors that might try to take you away from him. It wasn´t too hard to keep noisy people away from you, just one angry glare sent at the offending party and a threatening raise of his magical pen was sure to make anyone run for the hills in fear of having broken another one of the 810 rules he had promised to keep up. And while it normally would have greatly frustrated him in any other situation that no one had truly made the attempt to memorize all of the rules set up by the Queen of Hearts, it proved to be a great asset in this matter. If no one except him knew the rules by heart then he could just make them up as they were convenient to him and no one would dare to oppose the Heartslabyul dorm leader in fear of getting their magic locked away. Truly it pleased Riddle greatly to see everyone turn away from you after just making up a few rules on the spot.

“Rules of the Queen of Hearts No 666: At exactly 4:20 pm on any given day, the ruler is to spend a shared teatime with their significant other for at least 3 hours.”

“Rules of the Queen of Hearts No 69: It is forbidden to look at your ruler´s significant other if they are spending time together.”

“Rules of the Queen of Hearts No 420: You shall not approach your ruler´s significant other without their explicit consent.”

No one dared raise an eye at any of these unusual rules, after all the unusual was expected with the Rules of the Queen of Hearts. It wasn´t hard to believe that these could be actual rules so no one had caught onto him so far. And that just meant he could spend as much time alone together with you as he liked without anyone protesting. As he thought on and on about how everything had been going just as he had planned, he felt his heart speed up drastically as he saw you approach him with quick steps, a wide smile on your face. Coming to a stop in front of him you were left nearly breathless as you collected yourself before meeting his loving gaze with a deliciously joyous expression.

“Riddle! You won´t believe this! We did it!” How amusing, were you talking about the engagement of that noble? He had just been thinking about it as well, did that prove you two were connected in some way? You had to be, otherwise the wild emotions you caused within him didn´t make any sense. He had never felt this way before but he knew he wanted to hold onto this feeling forever. He decided to indulge you for a bit. “What are you talking about? What happened?” “You won´t believe it! It´s about prince Ayers, you know, the one that was supposed to marry me? Well he just announced his engagement to someone else! We are finally free!” And Riddle couldn´t agree with that sentiment more, you were finally free to both leave this academy together and spend the rest of you lives together, he could hardly wait. “That´s good to hear. Of course our plan worked out.” You took a small bow in front of the Rosehearts before making eye contact once more.

“Really, I can´t thank you enough for what you have done for me! You pretended to be in love with me, all so I wouldn´t get married to someone I didn´t want to marry! So, thank you!”

Wrong. You were wrong. Riddle didn´t pretend to be in love with you, this wasn´t just an act, why couldn´t you see that? He loved you so dearly with his entire being, what else did he need to do to prove that to you?

“-so we can finally stop pretending to be in love with each other and go back to being friends!”

What did you just say? Surely you were kidding? “Y/n what are you saying? Go back to being friends? I can´t allow that to happen.” Your face was quick to fall then, slight discomfort crossing your face.

“Riddle, what are you saying? We aren´t really together, you know? It was all just an act to prevent the arranged marriage, you know that, right?”

Riddle couldn´t help but let out a mirthless laugh at that which seemed to unsettle you even further as you tried to take a step back. But he wouldn´t allow you to go away, to leave him. He grabbed onto your wrist and pulled you closer again, your shaking and pulling not deterring him in the slightest, instead only making his grip even tighter.

“You can´t leave me y/n, I love you! I love you so much! This was anything but a game to me so please, give us a chance! Even if you don´t feel the same right now, these feeling could still grow! There´s still hope!” His breath was ragged now as his shoulders heaved up and down as his body shook. A look of sympathy and understanding now formed on your face and for just a moment, everything seemed okay. You wouldn´t reject him, you would stay by his side. It would all be okay. But his fleeting hope was utterly crushed as soon as you opened your mouth again.

“I´m flattered to hear this Riddle, really I am! But I just can´t accept your confession. I´m really sorry but there is someone else I love, it wouldn´t be fair of me to play with your feelings like that. I hope you understand.” Your eyes sparkled in sincerity but for Riddle, it felt like his world was falling apart right in front of him. You liked someone else? Who? WHO? Who could have caught your heart like that under his own watchful gaze? Who had achieved what he couldn´t?

“Y/n, please answer me. Who are you in love with? I NEED TO KNOW!” It shocked both you and Riddle himself how he had practically screamed out the last part of his sentence but he couldn’t be fazed by this at all now that his dreams were being destroyed right in front of him while you tried to take another step backwards. Riddle noticed the way you were tugging at his arm as a sign for him to let you go but he wouldn´t have any of that. You two were destined to be and nothing would come between the both of you.

“Riddle please let me- “

“NEVER! Rules of the Queen of Hearts No. 911: Never ever break up with your ruler! Especially not right after he had spilled all of his precious feelings for you and opened his heart to you, just to be trampled on and bested by some other wanna-be when he would be the way better choice!! DON`T LEAVE ME OR IT`S OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”

“Stop this Riddle please, you´re scaring me!”, you cried out as you kept struggling in his grasp and then… the tears started flowing. The redhead softened his gaze as he saw the tears run down your cheek and he used his unoccupied hand to gently wipe away your tears as he whispered to you with a decidedly calmer tone.

“Shhh don´t worry, everything will be okay! You don´t need to tell me who it is, I will find out myself and then I´ll make them disappear! I know that you are nervous, we are going to get married in just a few days after all but there is no reason to fool yourself into thinking you love another man! So just let me hold you close for the moment until you have calmed down, okay? This was an eventful day for the both of us so let´s just rest.” As he said this, Riddle pulled your shaking form into a tight embrace and then after meeting your eyes with a gaze that could only be described as utterly obsessed, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss onto your forehead.

“It´s okay, it´ll all be over soon. Tomorrow we can choose what kind of wedding cake you want and after that we can get your wedding attire measured out, okay? And then, we can finally get married and leave everything else behind. We can finally be happy together forever.”

“´Til death do us part”, Riddle whispered as he got down on one knee to slip a beautiful golden ring onto your finger, adored with a blood red gemstone that cost half a fortune.

Everything went according to plan.

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thewheezingwyvern · 4 years ago

Note

For Arcane April, maybe Shinso w/let’s say number 12? I’ve really been loving any Siren!Shinso stuff I can find. Thank you for your writing! It’s a pleasure to read ��

This took longer than I thought but then again this ended up longer than I thought. I wanted to try and take like an urban fantasy spin on this but go a bit...grittier? idk. This was just where my brain took me so I hope you like it! <3

Gossamer Web

Siren!Shinsou x Thief!Reader (a bit of sexual tension)

Warnings: Brainwashing, Dubcon (kissing) and blackmail

It was just another party, a gathering for some fundraiser or another that he honestly couldn’t even remember anymore. When you held a position like Hitoshi, seated among the rich and influential, a certain degree of public relations was necessary. And doing events for charity in the eyes of the public was just another part of maintaining his image. While Shinsou couldn’t remember what party he was even throwing anymore, his assistant would inform him later, he did like to think he knew the face of every important figure in the city. And plenty abroad too.

So his surprise was quite palpable when he saw you.

His lifestyle constantly had him around pretty people, coiffed and waxed to perfection, top of the line brands to smooth over any flaws that could possibly be present. Pretty faces to hide pretty fangs and pretty paint to coat their pretty claws before sinking them into someone. However, yours was a very different sort of attractive. Naturally at an event like this your makeup was applied and done so artfully, but it was in such a way that it enhanced what you had rather than attempted to bury whatever perceived flaw could be seen.

Most women attended these events hoping to look like the most beautiful one in the room, while the men sought to look the most powerful. But you moved and spoke and looked with a different purpose. You were searching for something. Indigo eyes slipped down to eye the gossamer threads of your dress, a stunning thing of spun shadow that fit your body like a glove. But it was only more exquisite whenever you moved, showcasing the elaborate enchantment that was woven into the very threads. Stars would wink and burst from your body, along with tufts of purple black clouds. But strung on a simple silver chain was the bespelled glow of a crescent moon.

HItoshi found himself breaking away from whatever boring conversation he was caught in to approach you, eyes glinting with interest. You were even more stunning up close, showing that you held a natural glow all on your own. With every step closer, the wink of starlight woven into your hair like constellations would catch his eye, beckoning him further to you. Whatever witch had magicked your clothes and hair was very talented and knew what they were doing.

“You look a bit lost.” he said to you after drawing very close to your back, close enough that it pulled a startled squeak past your lips, “Can I help you find something?”

Hitoshi deliberately laid the smooth demeanor on thick, a crooked smirk quirking on his lips. If he wasn’t so good at reading expressions, he might have missed the string of emotions that flitted across your face and in your eyes but he caught them. First surprise followed closely by recognition which melted to a look of worry or fear. And then it was gone beneath the smouldering curve of a coy smile.

“Hmmm and what if I just found it?”

A line he’d heard before but there was something lacking behind the delivery. Shinsou couldn’t quite put his finger on it but there wasn’t enough spice between the lines that gave the tell tale sign of someone looking for a quick fuck. Curious. A charming smirk wormed its way onto his lips, hiding the way his mouth had already began watering at the prospect of finding out more of what you were looking for. Anyone who came here with a purpose usually intended to use something against him.

“Well I guess that depends,” Hitoshi purred lowly to you, “what was it you were planning to do after you found me?”

This would have been the perfect opportunity for you to make another pass at him. To hint at how you wanted to be pressed against him in the throes of passion or whatever other way that it could be worded. But you completely skipped over that chance. One of your hands drifted up to toy with the luminous crescent moon that hung around your neck, deep and thoughtful eyes assessing him carefully.

“I guess I just wanted to see the man behind the name in person.”

A predatory glint sparked in his eyes, indigos boring into you as he drew impossibly close. Even through the well made fabric of his Armani suit, Hitoshi could feel the warmth of your body. He tilted his dark lavender head, drinking in the sight of you and how you seemed to fidget with him drawing nearer. The CEO decided he was going to make use of a power that he had at his disposal that very few people knew about.

He tipped your head up to look into his face before purring out, “Tell me your name.”

The magic woven into his very vocal cords twisted around you, bewitching you, until a glaze had fallen over your eyes, pupils swelling beneath the grip of his enthrallment. It was almost unfair how easily he could twist people to his whim with the power of his voice, have them spill their deepest secrets and desires to him. So to hear your mouth and tongue curl delightfully around your real name, it sent a surge of satisfaction.

“A beautiful name, Kitten.” a thumb traced along the curve of your jaw, “What were you really looking for tonight?”

“You keep the Wayfarer’s Orb here, third floor behind a wall of several enchantments and and a summon from the Infernal district,” you recited to him almost dreamily, “I’m going to steal it.”

Hitoshi tilted his head, dark smirk on his lips, “And what else? I know you didn’t risk pissing me off just for that.” he pressed a taunting kiss to your temple before leaning back, “Tell me the story while you walk with me, I want to hear all about it.”

He pulled your body close to his, your side pressed up against his as he led you away with an arm wrapped around your waist possessively. To anyone else, it would just appear as if he had found a new play thing that he was taking off to have some fun with. And in a way that was true. Indigo eyes swept over your delightful body and he couldn’t help but think how satisfying and how it would be to see you a broken little mess under him. A wet tongue snaked out to lick at his lips, arousal spiking in him. You’d look so pretty arching your back, column of your tender throat bared for him to bite as he speared inside of you.

“The orb was just a bonus and a way to cover my true intentions. I’ve already begun uploading valuable intel from your security databases and placed trackers so I can find more information about you and sell it.”

“What a clever little thing…” Hitoshi hummed down at you, fingertip tracing small circles on your hip, “And I’ve no shortage of enemies so you could charge whatever you wanted and they would pay it.” He led you deeper into his mansion, guiding the way up to the wing where he kept the stone you had planned to take, “You looked scared when you saw me...did you know that I’m a Siren?”

“Suspected but wasn’t sure.”

The dry drone of your voice was so satisfying. It was a song in and of itself, tongue curling around your forced submission to him anything he wanted you to. Hitoshi only stopped guiding you when the both of you reached the room which held the Wayfarer Orb on a pedestal. It was a smooth, polished stone of milky white with flashes of crimson red flecked throughout its surface.�� He had acquired it at least a year ago, an ancient stone said to help bring protection to the owner. It seemed necessary given how rapidly he had grown his empire.

“Look at me Kitten.” he yanked you to him, the sweet swell of your breasts pressed against his front, “Would you like it if I kissed you?”

He would be lying if he said that he asked this question with completely innocent intent. The thought of claiming your mouth was tempting but he wanted to know if you had at all been tempted by him in the brief time he spoke with you. Or while you did your research. Hitoshi swept a thumb along your lower lip, parting your mouth for him as you stared blankly at him.

“Yes.”

Shinsou dipped his head and brushed his mouth faintly against yours, murmuring, “When did you start feeling attracted to me?”

“We’ve met before. Enji’s holiday gala. We danced together.”

Now that was interesting. He pulled back, brows shooting up as he looked down at you. Despite how closely he studied your face, the sweep of your cheek bones, the hue of your eyes, he couldn’t remember you at all. Indigo eyes lidded lazily, a stray fingertip dragging along the arch of a brow.

“Why don’t I remember you then?”

“I spiked your drink with a memory potion.”

Shock zinged through him then. It had been proper years since the last time anyone had gotten the jump on him and yet there you were, speaking only honesty for his ears as his voice compels you. Had this encounter never happened, he never would have known. If you could pull a stunt like that then the skills you have were unspeakably valuable and he had every plan to use them. Shinsou chuckled softly before dropping the enthrallment of his voice around you.

The world came spinning back then, awareness creeping into the edges of your thought as you tried to grasp just where you were. By the time your pupils had refocused, he was crushing his mouth down onto yours. A muffled squeal was his answer along with you pushing at his chest. But the sensuous way his mouth moved against yours had you melting in his arms, soft moans humming in your throat as he kissed you.

When he finally broke the kiss, both of you were panting while you glared daggers up at him.

“What the fuck?!” you ripped yourself free of his grasp, staggering backwards with a hand clutched to your mouth, “What’re you doing?!”

The look of frustration blended heavenly with your flustered expression. Mirth spilled over in his open mouthed smirk. Casually he slipped his hands into his coat pockets, cocking a brow and half lidding his eyes at you. Tilting his head to the side, a soft laugh rumbled in his chest, drinking in your more outraged expression.

“Nothing you don’t want me to do, Kitten.”

“And how do you work that out?”

“You told me yourself.” Hitoshi gestured out towards the vault, hand showing you the glint of the Orb you came to steal, “Along with your goals. Your suspicions proved right.”

“Shit…”

“Now here’s how things are going to go,” he slowly advanced on you, “you’re going to put those skills of yours to work for me.”

You glared at him, “And if I refuse?”

“Well, I use my abilities and have you out yourself to every powerful figure here tonight.” that smirk widened, “You’re that one thief that’s been targeting all the high rollers, aren’t you? I imagine that they would all love to meet you.”

Fear flooded your eyes then, “You...you wou-”

“Wouldn’t I? If you’ve done your homework about me then you know how much of a dangerous man I can be.”

You had done your homework and that was truer than you would like to admit. Hitoshi’s public image was great but if you dug a little deeper, strange disappearances that surrounded him. Brainwashing you and having you out your secret to some of the most influential people of the city who would love to see you punished for your work. It would be the end of you and he knew you would have no choice but to work for him.

And that was how you, The Firefly, thief of rich assholes extraordinaire, came to work for Shinsou Hitoshi. Through blackmail and the threat of one of the most powerful men in the city ruining you.

#Shinsou x reader #Shinsou x y/n #Shinsou x you #Siren Shinsou #BNHA #BNHA fantasy #my writing #ArcaneApril #Anonymous

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littleoddwriter · 3 years ago

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Hiya! Your prompt list interested me and I would like to request you a Zsaszmask story with Dialogue Prompt n°5 "I wasn't sure your remembered me". Plot: During a fight with a rival gang, Victor gets knocked out and suffered amnesia. It hurts Roman who tried everything to help him. Angst+happy ending would be nice. I am sure it will be brilliant as always! Thanks in advance and have a nice day!

Remember Me | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask

Hiya! <3 Thank you so much for this delightful request! It's totally run away from me, istg (it's over 4k words long, rip). I really hope you enjoy what I've done with it!

summary; see above.

notes; Angst with Happy Ending; Amnesia; Hospitals; Recovery; Mentions of Murder and Fantasies of it; Mentions of having been stabbed and shot; probably bad depiction of how hospitals and such work despite the medical dramas i've watched.

Stupid fucking rival gangs. He wished he could kill them all over again.

Stupid fucking Victor Zsasz. He was always so fucking loyal and protective.

Fucking hell!

Fuck!

Roman was fuming; his blood was still boiling, thrumming through his body in high speed, making him tremble. Although to be fair, he wasn’t entirely sure that he was only shaking because of his rage. It might have also been caused by the fear that’s settled deep into his bones.

Fear! He, Roman Beauvais Sionis, the notorious Black Mask – scared! It was laughable, really.

It would’ve been laughable if it hadn’t been for the fact that Victor’s blood was all over his clothes.

It would’ve been laughable if it hadn’t been for the fact that Zsasz was lying on the hospital bed, wires and tubes attached to him, looking so lifeless.

Because yes, it was scary, indeed.

Roman thought even the cruellest people in the world would agree that the uncertainty of whether or not the person you cared about the most was coming back to you at all or not, warranted such feelings of fear. It was perfectly fine.

If only it didn’t feel so wrong.

If only he didn’t feel like ripping his own heart out, so he could make these emotions stop.

That’s one of the many reasons that he despised just how close he was to Victor, how close he let him get.

He’s always known that someday, he may as well lose him one way or another.

And then what?

He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

The strangest thing of all to him, in this very moment that he’s been sitting on the hospital chair next to Victor’s bed, was that he hasn’t left that spot even once so far. He was too scared to move. He felt as though the second his eyes left Zsasz’s shape, he would suddenly disappear. Because right now, he was still here. He was still alive, if only just barely, but he was still here.

He hadn’t even dared to change his clothes, the dried blood making them crusty and uncomfortable. It was disgusting and under any other circumstances he would have gone to change the second he had been out of danger.

Yet, here he was.

If only Zsasz knew just how much he actually cared about him.

Thinking about it though, he probably did. He seemed to know Roman better than he knew himself. Sometimes that scared him, but most of the time it only lit this raging fire inside him. He couldn’t stand the way he depended on this one person.

It was dangerous.

He couldn’t help himself, though. He’s tried before, but every time it led him right back to Zsasz. A strange pull kept hold of him, not letting him get out of Victor’s magnetic field under any circumstances.

Roman knew that Zsasz would probably say that it was some kind of fate thing. Destiny. They were meant to be together from the day they’d been born, only to wreak havoc on Gotham the way they’ve been doing ever since.

It was kind of charming, really, that Victor was so set on his theories about the universe. Sionis never questioned that Zsasz might have a point, considering that his purpose was to free all these birds from their cages, but he often failed to extent his belief in Victor’s theories to themselves.

Until now, at least.

The way he’s been feeling since Victor got knocked out, stabbed, and shot made him unsure of everything, now.

Because it truly felt as though with the very real notion of possibly losing his Victor, he’s suddenly felt so lost. Incomplete. It was as though with every action the rival gang’s taken, another part’s been ripped out of his body, his heart – his very soul.

It was absolutely horrific and now he could only hope that Zsasz would wake up again, without any permanent damages. He didn’t know what he would do if there were any at all. Would he rage? Mourn? Kill? He just hoped he’d never have to find out at all.

Several weeks later – fifty-six days, in fact – Roman sat in his chair beside Victor’s bed, like he’s done day and night since it had first happened.

Of course, he had changed out of his clothes after the first night, showered and slept, but he’s done it all in Zsasz’s hospital room. He didn’t dare leave him.

All business was done over the phone, or by meetings in Victor’s room. It wasn’t the most convenient situation. It also left him exposed, seemingly weak, and he’s made certain that they all knew that if they so much as thought of him as any less dangerous and cruel, they’d be dead faceless men. They seemed to have taken his threats seriously enough. At least nothing has come up so far.

After a while, Roman has started to hold Victor’s right hand in both of his, stroking his thumb over his palm, his wrist – tracing the only scar he found there. He even talked to him. The doctors have said that often times it helped to talk to a coma patient, that they’ve woken up earlier than expected – or at all – when they’ve been spoken to. So he had muttered about the incident that even got them there in the first place, but as time has passed, he just started talking about everything and nothing.

In rare moments of sentimentality, he’d even go on about how much he missed Victor, how scared he felt, even after weeks. Maybe especially because it’s been weeks – almost two months– now. He was so afraid that perhaps Zsasz wouldn’t wake up after all. The doctors have certainly never given him a clear answer.

Lost in his musing, he felt Victor’s hand, which has been still enveloped by both of his, twitch.

He immediately held completely still, not even breathing, as he looked at Zsasz curiously, expectantly.

“Zsasz?” he rasped, sounding so small to his own ears that he cringed internally.

The hand twitched again, fingers clenching and releasing around Roman’s hand.

“Victor, hey. Come back to me, hm?” he spoke softly, a nervous smile twisting his mouth upward.

After a few more moments, Victor’s eyes fluttered open. Slowly, he seemed to adjust to the bright lights in the room. Clearing his throat and groaning quietly, he sluggishly turned his head to the side, his eyes meeting Roman’s.

As soon as he had taken him in, Victor’s eyes widened.

Roman felt confusion coursing through him.

Zsasz looked – scared? Confused as well? He certainly didn’t look very happy to see Roman alive and well next to him.

“Who are you?”

The world seemed to stop around Roman; his heart was pounding, feeling it in his throat. He was kidding. He had to be.

“Excuse me?” Roman inquired instead, giving Zsasz a chance out of this uncalled for joke.

“Who are you?” Victor repeated, his voice still hoarse and broken, but louder. He looked so genuine, too.

An icy chill settled in Roman’s stomach, spreading through his entire body.

“Now’s really not the time for jokes, Mr. Zsasz,” Sionis reprimanded him, trying once more to make Victor react differently and say he’s only been kidding after all, before he called a doctor in panic.

But then Victor pried his hand out of Roman’s tight grip and said, “I’m really not joking, sir.”

Okay, maybe he really wasn’t, because Victor’s certainly never called him ‘sir’ outside of sex; even then, it was a rare occurrence.

Sionis took a deep breath and then leaned over to press the call-button, hoping the doctors – who were all on his pay roll, of course – would have an answer that was at least mildly satisfactory.

No such luck, though.

The doctors came in and asked Roman to step outside first, so they could check Victor over.

In front of his room, Sionis started pacing, running his hands through his hair in frustration, anxiety, and rage. He was trying so hard not to explode; it made him tremble all over again. He felt exactly like he had when they had first come into the hospital nearly two months ago.

This was just a really bad fucking nightmare. It had to be.

When the doctor and his nurses were done checking him over, they asked Roman back into the room. He’s kept his distance now, not daring to come any closer to Victor, his Victor.

“You said you don’t know who this is?” the doctor – whatshisname – inquired calmly, looking at Victor, but pointing at Roman.

“Yeah, no idea,” Victor replied, his voice started to sound clearer, which only made it so much worse for Roman when he couldn’t detect any underlying inflection that may have told him that this really was just a prank after all.

“But you do know who you are, correct? Do you know your name?” the doctor continued, looking at Roman, a hint of fear in his eyes. He hated it. He wanted to gouge them out, so he didn’t have to see the fear anymore. Instead, he just looked away, staring at Victor intently.

“I know who I am, yeah. Name’s Victor Zsasz.”

“Alright. Could you tell me what year we have, Mr. Zsasz?”

His brows furrowed, deep in thought, and then, “2002.” Fuck.

The doctor stopped short, Roman’s hands clenched into tight fists, the leather of his gloves squeaking audibly in the all too quiet room.

“I’m sorry to say it, but it is actually 2019. Do you have any idea why you’re in the hospital at all?”

Victor’s eyes widened again, just like when he’s spotted Roman for the first time a little while ago.

“That can’t be right. No, I don’t remember that. What the hell’s going on, Doc? What did you do to me?” The last part was directed at Roman, who felt as though his heart’s been stabbed, ripped out and stomped on with those words and the accusatory delivery of them.

“Mr. Sionis, I’d have to ask you to wait outside until I’m done here, please,” the doctor said.

Without another word and as if he was on autopilot, Roman let himself out of the room and sat down in the chair in front of it, burying his head in his hands. This couldn’t possibly be true. He had to wake up from this horrible nightmare, soon. He just had to.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor stepped back outside.

“Mr. Sionis, it looks as though Mr. Zsasz suffers from amnesia. It was most likely caused by the blow to his head.”

“But he’ll be fine, right? Amnesia is only temporary. Right?” Roman hated that he couldn’t hide the anxiety he felt, the utter dread.

“Not always. We’d have to do some more tests, CTs and such, to make sure. After that I can disclose more certain information to you. Would that be alright?”

Sionis sighed, frustrated, “Yes. Do whatever you’ve got to, as long as it’ll help bring him back to normal.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll go and order the tests right now. I’d suggest that you go home now. I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got any new information, but it certainly wouldn’t do any good to confuse Mr. Zsasz even further now, when we barely know what’s really going on. Alright? I promise to be fast.”

“You better be,” Roman muttered and turned to leave the hospital, his driver waiting a couple of blocks away from it.

Normally, he’d have been raging now, throwing things, spitting into doctors faces, cussing them out – but he couldn’t.

He was in shock.

He could barely process the reality of what was even happening.

He felt so alone.

Two days later, in which he might’ve gone a little mad, really, his doctor finally called him. When he’s come in to see him, he’s told him that Victor did indeed only suffer from temporary memory loss. Unfortunately, such amnesia was quite unpredictable and it could be a few days, weeks, months, or even years until all memories were back.

Still, the good news were that the doctor has managed to warm up Zsasz to the idea of going back to living with Roman, after assuring him that it’s been this way for many years, now. To that Victor had first asked if he was gay, because apparently at that point in his life, Zsasz hadn’t had a clue about his sexuality, or that he could truly like anyone at all.

All of this was utterly ridiculous to Roman.

How can a person just lose access to such a big portion of their life, of their identity, essentially?

The same day that Roman’s received the news, he was also allowed to take Victor back home with him, already. Apparently his wounds had healed a great deal, while he’d been out, and so the rest could be done from home. Additionally, it’d be extremely beneficial to bringing his memories back if he was surrounded by things so familiar to him.

Roman hoped it worked fast.

“I had your old room prepared for you,” Roman commented when they’ve finally arrived back at the penthouse.

Victor was holding himself up with a hand on the wall. He hadn’t liked when Roman touched him and offered him to support him. Sionis couldn’t really find words for just how much he’s hated that.

“’Old room’? What’s with my new one?” Victor asked, almost looking like a caged animal, when their eyes met.

“Well, I had thought you wouldn’t want to sleep in one bed with me, right now,” Roman replied, hoping he’d catch on without needing him to spell it out for him.

Realisation dawned on him quickly, a slight pink tint to his cheeks. “Right.”

“Exactly. Anyway, so this is your room, there’s an en-suite bathroom, through that door,” Roman explained, showing Victor around. He was glad that he was such a natural at these things, it eased him a little, bringing back some much needed familiarity.

“Huh, compared to the shithole I used to live in, this is really luxerias.”

“Luxurious,” Roman corrected him without thinking.

“Uh-huh, whatever,” Victor just muttered darkly.

“Dinner will be ready at 6pm sharp. Until then you can- I don’t know, stay in bed, I suppose. If you should need anything, or you’re having an emergency you can either call for my staff, or me; whichever you prefer.” Fuck, Roman really hated just how much he cared about this asshole. He’d never do this for anyone else. If it had been anyone else, Roman would have dropped them – killed them – the second they had to have been rushed to the fucking hospital.

“Okay. Thanks, Mr. Sionis,” Zsasz said, gingerly sitting down on his bed.

“Just call me Roman, Zsasz.” Or boss, he added in his mind, but didn’t dare to speak it.

When he left Victor’s room, he stalked into his own, silent tears gathered in his eyes and ran down his cheeks.

He just wanted his Victor back.

Dinner was awkward to say the least. Victor sat in his usual place at the head of the table, to Roman’s right, and he ate just like he always did – like a fucking pig. But he didn’t talk to Roman at all, even when he had tried to start up a conversation. Instead, he only side-eyed him, looking suspicious of him. It enraged Roman.

In the morning, Victor didn’t show up for breakfast.

After a few minutes of waiting for him to come, Roman got up to look after Zsasz. His first thoughts had been that perhaps something’s gone wrong and Victor died in his sleep, but when he opened the door to his room – after knocking first, of course, he wasn’t a savage after all – Zsasz glared at him so darkly that an unpleasant shiver ran down Roman’s spine.

So he didn’t try to force him out if he didn’t want to. His doctor had told him to give him time and be patient with him, so he tried his fucking best to do exactly that. It was really fucking hard, though. He hoped that Zsasz would at least appreciate his efforts properly, when he was all his again.

In the end, Victor hasn’t come out of his room at all that day. It was extremely frustrating to Roman, who proceeded to trash his own room at night, when it had all just come to a head for him. He didn’t care if Victor could hear him scream and throw things, destroying them.

The day after, Victor sat at the breakfast table first, to Roman’s surprise. Sionis didn’t say anything, even though he so desperately wanted to make a snide remark, but he wasn’t willing to take the risk of having Zsasz lock himself into his room, again.

“The doc said that showing me some things could jog my memory,” Victor rasped eventually, when Roman had been ready to get up and leave.

“I know. So you’re willing to do that?” He only received a nod in response.

For a moment, Roman mulled it over, thinking about what he could show Victor to help him remember his life the best and the fastest.

Then it hit him.

Zsasz didn’t remember him. Well, maybe he would if he saw Roman wearing his Black Mask in the club they’ve first met, when Galante introduced them to each other.

“Alright, I’ve got something to show you. I’ll just make a phone call and we could go, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, alright.”

Roman had made sure that Victor wouldn’t see him in the Black Mask until they were to re-enact their first meeting – only that this time they’d be all by themselves.

He really hoped this worked.

Roman told Zsasz to stand in the same spot he’s stood when Black Mask had first stridden in to greet Galante. Just like he’s done with Sionis since, he’d stood leaned against a pillar. Usually his arms would be behind his back, but it would put too much strain on the still tender wounds on his abdomen, so he just let them dangle at his sides. Roman felt a painful tug on his heart strings. He had missed seeing Victor like this.

“Wait here,” he instructed Zsasz, who just nodded.

Then Roman went back to the car and got out his Black Mask and put it on.

“If this doesn’t fucking work…,” he muttered gloomily, before he opened the empty club’s door to walk in, like he’s done all those sixteen years ago.

As much as he hated admitting it, he was lucky that the mask gave him such a sense of security and protection, so that whenever he wore it, he practically became a different person. It made it a lot easier to hold himself with all the extravagance and intent that he’s displayed over a decade and a half ago (and every other day before all this), too.

He watched Victor like a hawk as he marched up to him, and Zsasz’s gaze was just as sharp and piercing as was his.

Black Mask stopped right in front of Zsasz, only a few inches away. He tilted his head a little, and gruffly inquired, “Anything at all, Mr. Zsasz?”

Victor swallowed thickly; Roman could see the way his throat worked around it. Then his eyes widened again, just like in the hospital, but this time recognition lied underneath his sharp gaze.

“Black Mask,” he whispered, a grin spread on his face, showing off his two beautiful golden teeth.

Sionis inhaled sharply. “I wasn’t sure you remembered me,” he rasped, a soft, sad inflection coming along with it.

“I’m so sorry, boss.” Victor lifted his hands and cupped the mask with them, oh, so gently. He’s always known to be careful with it. Then he stroked his thumbs over the seams and the roughly textured leather, a wonder in his eyes that Roman’s missed seeing more than he’d ever dare to admit.

“It wasn’t your fault, Mr. Zsasz,” Black Mask said, his voice strained from holding back. He didn’t know just how much Victor remembered now. They obviously haven’t been more than employer and employee from the get-go.

But fuck, he wanted to hold him close and kiss him so badly. It’s been far too long since and all the hospital stress has made him desperate for the assurance that Victor wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Still, he just stood there, watching Zsasz marvel at his mask for a while. Victor’s always loved his mask, and Roman couldn’t ever deny him from admiring it, when it was such a boost to his ego as well.

When it felt as though fifteen minutes must have passed, Roman got a little impatient, though. Victor’s not said anything since and he needed to know what other memories he’s gotten back; so he asked, “What else do you remember?”

Zsasz’s eyes were glazed over a little, having gotten completely lost in his own little world.

Under the mask, Roman smiled.

“Hm, I remember the Bertinelli Massacre,” the way he talked – it was a testament to just how far away into his mind he’s just gone, his voice sounded so light, pondering, Roman loved it, “And I remember you coming to Galante afterwards and buying my contract from him. How I became your exclusive assassin and later right-hand man. I remember how nervous you were about opening the club after your parents had just kicked you out. I remember how ecstatic you were when it had all started to work out in your favour, the way it should have.”

He paused.

Roman almost thought that had been it. They would have to wait for everything else to come back, too. And then who knew how long it’d take?

But then Victor continued with a smile on his face, “I remember the first time we’ve gotten each other off after I freed someone for you. And how you avoided me afterwards for a little while, so angry that you’ve given in to your urges. Then I remember how we just went from there. How we share a bed now, even though you hated it so much at first, but you can’t sleep anymore when I’m not there. And I remember just how close you are to owning Gotham the way you were always meant to do.” Zsasz ended it by kissing the mask’s teeth, like he would do so often.

Roman’s breath audibly stuttered. He wrapped his arms around Victor’s waist, careful not to squeeze, just holding onto him gently.

“Take my mask off,” he commanded.

With a cute little pout, Victor did as he was told and gently took off Roman’s Black Mask, setting it down on the table beside them. As soon as he’s done that, Roman captured Victor’s pretty, plush lips in a searing kiss that conveyed all the emotions that have plagued him for almost two months then. Zsasz reciprocated it just as enthusiastically, cupping Roman’s face in his hands. They both groaned into the kiss.

Their mouths open, Roman immediately plunged his tongue into his partner’s mouth, tasting and exploring him again after so long. It may have been the most amazing and intoxicating thing he’s ever experienced.

After a couple of minutes, they separated, although their noses still brushed against one another, their lips just barely apart at all.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, baby,” Roman murmured, pressing another small kiss to Victor’s slack lips.

Zsasz smiled, “I know. I missed you, too. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you.”

“Shut the fuck up, it wasn’t your fault, ‘kay? I’m just glad you’re back and all mine again. You are, aren’t you, Victor? All mine?”

“I sure am, boss. All yours. Only yours.”

Roman smiled, kissing Victor once more, a relieved sigh leaving him. He was beyond happy he’s gotten him back. He truly had no idea what he would have done if that hadn’t happened. Those past two months had been the worst of his entire life, he was sure of it.

“Never do that to me again. You hear me?”

“Never. I promise.”

Reblogs > Likes! Support content creators, please! Thanks!

#tw hospital #tw recovery #tw amnesia #angst with a happy ending #roman sionis #roman sionis fanfiction #victor zsasz #victor zsasz fanfiction #zsaszmask #zsaszmask fanfic #harley quinn birds of prey #birds of prey and the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn #mlm ship #mlm fanfic #mlm fiction #i cant believe this took me all day #i've sat on this for the past-- 8 or 9 hours #i sure hope it was worth it lol #gonna try to write one more fic and upload that before bed <3

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lost-my-plot · 4 years ago

Text

"It's Just The Spindle"

I'm a thirsty bitch for angst. So welcome to the first of many parts for twisted x a cursed reader (with the help of a friend each dorm will have a slightly different curse) I'm starting with malleus and the curse is very similar to sleeping beauty. I'll try to keep on top of getting these out.

PS. This took so long I got really excited about researching how spinning wheels work.

-creamy

Reader has he/him pronouns though this can be enjoyed by any. Reader is not mc!!

Tw: angst, mentions of depression, violence, slight yandere

The day was late a gentle glow gave peace in the dorm. Some attend to their studies; one naps among the animals, the tiny world of the dorm seems to be at peace. Though a single student has an unexpected fate they are about to face.

Y/n lurks around the unused halls of the dorm his heart singing a song leading him to a unknown destination. His heels echo through the quiet halls softy reaching few ears, a Prince's ear picks up on the clicks and spikes his interest. Leaving the unfinished work behind, Malleus moves to find the unfortunate heart that wonders.

The beating of the mortals heart grew in volume the song taking over his mind; as the s/c hand wrapped around the cold metal handle, the dragon Fae reached the human friend, the human who holds the strings of his heart without knowledge. Green eyes watch the near hypnotized man turn the handle and pushes open a long forgotten door, to a barren room void of anything but an old Saxony spinning wheel covered in dust and webs it's bobbin half filled with yarn while, the wool laid spread around the tool as if there was haste when the maiden who once spun it abandoned it.

Malleus's heart froze seeing y/n wonder in, the glossed look in his eyes made the Royal release exactly what was taking place. The sleeping curse. The same, or atleast similar, curse that his grandmother placed on a princess many a century ago. Before he could think his legs were carrying him towards the competitively younger man, yelling out for them as he passed the border of the room. The familiar voice pulling the cursed back to reality however, it was to late as he turned his head to look the left ring finger landed on the spindle and it was over. With a slight lack of grace the h/c man fell back knocking the ancient wheel with him it hitting the ground, breaking with echoing loud crack. Malleus caught the sleeping man before he landed.

Between the wheel's crash and Malleus's grief filled wailing the whole of Diasomnia was alert, their previously peaceful afternoon was now a night of curiosity. Lilia, having an idea as to what had happened, with Sebek and Silver made swiftly towards to the distressed Prince.

The two taller men pulled their broken friend way from the human that has caused this heartache, Lilia quickly took y/n's heavy lifeless body and placed him on the ground; getting an unexpected and frankly out of character roar from Malleus as tears pooled at his chin and his legs grew weaker. Silver silently told Sebek what he wanted to do before gently bringing the dragon down to the ground where he could safely continue his agonizing cries while being held by people he sees as his family. Looking over y/n Livia's suspicions were proven true, the cure. The Fae y/n grew up under did inform him of this though he never did believe it; why would a peasant family in counter and Fae with such power, and how had they angered them? This question weren't important now, he had to comfort Malleus and start work on how to save you.

The dorm was near silent again but this dorm the only sound was the mourning the Prince, for the first week seemed to be handling as many. he didn't stay by the sleeping corpse when his peers came by giving gifts to be placed around the soft bed he rest some would stay longer speaking to those who slumber as if he'll respond; he never did. Teachers came by as well few leaving things most there to help Malleus work on a way to free you. Leona even came by shortly, it was clear that this lost has hurt most in the school.

As time passes the answers never seem to show itself, though many continue trying to remind him of the original tale of his grandmother, he simply refuses. He doesn't want to accept that the true love kiss may not be from his pale lios; there has to be another way. Lilia tries to keep his 'child' together and safe taking him out on walks at night, while silver watches over y/n. Despite these efforts Prince malleus breaks more and more until the final crack.

The doors to his room, as well as the stairs leading up the tower to it have been blocked and filled by large roses and their thorns creating a near death trap for those who don't have the aid a strong teleportation spell or broom but even those are risky their own two people who the vines move for: Lilia, silver and when they do he's usually reading more and more books on curse's or sleeping alongside y/n hands interlocking are tears visible on his face; the food they left on their last visit was barely touched. The Prince's own room hasn't being used since ye fell its covered in dust with the smell of what once was, the sound of y/n laugh still echoing off those walls; it was hunting to walk pass.

Years it's been years your body stay the same just barely breathing eye closed gently enough that one would believe they were to open any second. However he knows better know but why, why had he left him, why didn't y/n tell him of this. he would have protected him, if he Had then he wouldn't be where he is now: A ruined castle covered in vines of thorns, alone. Even with his 'family' he's alone without him, with out the man he loves. "maybe my kiss will wake him... I have nothing more to try" the mumble was his last hope.

Pushing the h/c out of the beautiful face he leans in closing his eyes. If this doesn't work he shall live his long life without love, without what he wanted most. His lips y/n' touch lightly.

#x reader #fanfic #creamy writes #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #malleus x reader #x male reader #Angst #malleus angst #yandere malleus #twisted wonderland angst #yandere

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nymph1e · 4 years ago

Note

Okay fuck it, I gotta give in, I gotta watch through Supernatural. AFAIK, it's all on Netflix; at least I saw it on there in passing. Going into this, is there anything I should be aware of? Are there any episodes I should skip, any seasons? Should I start from season 4? I know the basic plot and concept, and I know it's very monster-of-the-week. But aside from me highkey shipping Destiel already, that's all.

Well my first piece of advice would be

but uh, let’s fucking ~GO~

If you’re actually jumping into this hellhole (why why why) don’t start at season 4. It’s tempting, but seasons 1-3 are some of the best shit in the whole show, also having context for Sam and Dean’s characters, and their relationship with the supernatural up to season 4 really highlights how fucking wild the introduction of angels is in the show. it’s basically a complete paradigm shift.

I would recommend you watch seasons 1-5 basically as is, though if you’re in a rush, season three is kinda skippable as long as you read a general synopsis. This is the original arc of the show and it shows. A friend of mine, @sammwinchestersdimples has said she’d have been fine if the show had ended there, and I can totally see her point. After season five things start to get... uhhhhh... not as good. THAT BEING SAID some really amazing seasons come later, and you’d get nowhere NEAR the Full Destiel Experience without them. What REALLY sucks is that all the seasons have good moments in them, so even if the seasons are generally bad, they’ll have episodes of GOLD. But fuck it, here’s a season-by-season breakdown.

Season 6 - This is the first... “eh” season. There’s a lot of character choices made in this one that I don’t like. The plot also doesn’t quite seem to know what to do with itself and it has no real main villain... or I guess it has a twist villain? This is also the season where they start chucking in the typical “no homos” you get when a show is queerbaiting, so they can point to the no homo bits and claim the queers are delusional.

Season 7 - The absolute WORST season, imo, is season 7, and it features Cas the least out of all the post season 4 seasons. You can tell the writers genuinely tried to write Cas off here. Not to mention the main plot is completely stupid. HOWEVER this is the season where we get golden things like Cas showing up to Dean’s prayer naked and covered in bees, and the episode where Charlie (best girl) is introduced and Dean subsequently has to flirt with a dude because she, a lesbian, cannot. (Wow so straight, Dean)

Episodes Not To Skip:

6x03 - A good Cas/plot episode (spot the famous destiel quote)

6x04 - A good all-round episode, also Jackles directed it so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

6x09 - This is one of the Batshit Episodes. Definitely watch.

6x10 - On the one hand, Cas episode. On the other, no homo, megstiel episode. Your choice.

6x11 - Good episode.

6x15 - THE ULTIMATE META EPISODE. Sam and Dean are teleported into Jared Padelecki and Jensen Ackles’ lives on the set of Supernatural and it is so batshit.

6x17 - Jolly good episode, and nice destiel content.

6x18 - Time travel episode, which is always fun.

6x19 - “Baby in a trenchcoat.” ‘Nough said.

6x20 - The Man Who Would Be King is the destiel episode. It is infamous in the fandom, and for good reason. It’s not just a good destiel episode, but one of the best episodes in the series. With banging lines like “Freedom is a length of rope. God wants you to hang yourself with it.” and “For a brief moment, I was me again.”

6x21 & 6x22 - The last two episodes are kind of must-watches after TMWWBK, trust me.

Episodes Not To Skip:

7x01 & 7x02 - follows on from s6 final. You don’t wanna skip.

7x05 - Good general episode

7x06 - Again, good general episode. Sets ups plot for the season.

7x08 - Ugh. So the A plot for this episodes invoves Becky, the insane, stalker, fandom-insert character, roofie Sam into marrying her (and it’s heavily implied they have sex - and it’s treated as a joke despite being LITERAL RAPE). BUT this is the episode where Garth is introduced and Garth is fucking amazing. So. IDEK.

7x10 & 7x11 - Plot important.

7x12 - Time travel episode! See if you can catch the bi!dean moment ;)

7x17 - Cas is back! Or is he???

7x18 - GARTH EPISODE

7x20 - CHARLIE!!!! WATCH THIS EPISODE!!!!

7x21 - Cas episode. It’s... interesting.

7x22 - The tagline for this episode is “Sam and Dean seek out an Alpha” 😭. It’s a Cas episode.

7x23 - If Cas weren’t in this episode I’d say skip it.

Season 8 - A fantastic season. If The Man Who Would Be King is the destiel episode, season 8 is the destiel season. When you watch this, DM me so I can RANT about all the amazing destiel this season. It’s also, again, a great season in general I remember watching it as it was airing it was soooo good. You have the arrival of the Bunker, you have Kevin and Charlie being awesome, some nice sprinkles of batshit episodes, BEST BOY BENNY rocks up in all his glory. Fucking epic season. Only downside it Sam’s character takes a bit of a dive. I’d recommend you watch through all of this season.

Episodes To AVOID:

7x13 - I literally pretend this stupid fucking episode doesn’t exist. Basically Dean impregnates a woman with Super Pregnancy and she has a daughter who becomes an adult within hours and then dies. The end. Everyone hated it. Man fuck this episode. Of course it was written by Buckleming.

Season 9 - Sadly, after how amazing season 8 was, and how spectactularly season 9 was set up, this season is a disappointment. It’s an ok season. It’s not bad, it’s not good, it’s just a bit all over the place.

I was going to give you the normal episode list to not skip, but looking through, most episodes this season should be watched for one reason or another. Either they’re Cas heavy, they do some interesting character building, or they feature one of the awesome side characters like Charlie or Jody.

This season is probably the height of the war in the writers’ room about destiel. Some writers want to no homo the whole thing and back way off, while other writers want to lean into it hard. So in the same season where SPOILER Cas loses his virginity to a random reaper woman and Dean kicks Cas out of the bunker to fend for himself, you also have Cas’ fatal flaw used as propaganda against him by Metatron being that he’s "in love” with humanity Dean. /SPOILER Whatever you do DON’T SKIP THE FINAL FEW EPISODES. TRUST ME.

Season 10 - Haha oh dear. This season is likely the biggest for wasted potential. You saw the end of season 9, right? You go “HOLY SHIT YES LET’S DO THIS” and then they do... season 10. They really became experts at setting up an awesome season only to fuck it up in delivery, right? Again, not a bad season, per se.

Episodes To AVOID:

9x05 - In which Dean wants to fuck a dog. I am not joking. I wish I were. Basically a spell-gone-wrong makes Dean doglike. it’s weird. it’s batshit. Not the good kind.

Season 11 - Season 11 is a pretty good season! They tried to give Dean a female love interest but Jackles said ✨No✨ and played Dean as brainwashed and uncomfortable the whole time and I love him for it. Of special note this season is the episode Baby (11x04), which is my favourite episode in the series! It’s funny, it’s heartwarming, it’s weirdly shot. I love it! We also get casifer this season which is awesome! Some episodes are skippable, but they’re generally good episodes.

Episodes NOT to Skip (ignore the 10 year special):

10x01 & 10x02 - Great episodes, Dean in this is *chefs kiss*.

10x04 - *sighs* Fan Fiction. A 200th episode that is simultaneously a love letter to fans and laughing in fans’ faces. I’ve never liked this episode for the second-hand embarressment of it all, but you should watch it and see if you like it.

10x06 - Pretty good episode.

10x07 - Jody AND Donna! Fantastic episode!

10x08 - Dadstiel rears his ugly head. I fucking love how Cas adopts two (2) kids over the course of the series and in both cases Dean eventually goes “ah fuck, I guess I gotta co-parent this thing”. Also we get some KILLER destiel this episode. hey go on a DATE and Cas tells Dean he’s a good person ^_^

10x09 - Good episode. Much destiel.

10x10 - Charlie episode!

10x11 - Teen!Dean! Need I say more?

OK so I just had a look, and you really just need to watch every episode from this point in the season on. Enjoy!

Season 12 - Another example of a TERRRIBLE season, is season 12. Season 12 is also one of the most destiel-heavy seasons in the show. You see the issue? Like, it’s got a stupid plot that makes no sense and has no fucking cohesion, but you also FINALLY have the writers going “fuck it” and all in on the destiel. After this point Dean never has another non-Cas love interest and vice versa, they stop giving us whiplash from baiting and no-homoing. IF the conspiracy theory is true, and the end of the show is shit because of executive meddling, this season is the one where the writers decided they were gonna push for destiel endgame.

I gotta tell you the truth, I skipped this season in my rewatch, so all of my memories are from years ago when it first came out. This seson was the last that I watched live (for a reason). Should you skip it? No. But I’m not well informed enough about this season that I can point out what episodes you should or should not watch.

Season 13 - Congratulations! You’ve reached the point where the show’s gotten consistently good again! (just in time for most of the audience to have already left lol). We start off with SPOILERS Dean mourning Cas like he’s lost the will to fucking live. I’m talking complete despondence, praying for Cas to come back, lashing out in anger at everything, one of the darkest points we’ve ever seen him at on the show, then pulling a 180 and being super happy the second Cas comes back. /SPOILERS They also introduce Jack, who is the SECOND child Cas decides to adopt and Dean ends up co-parenting (Sam too). In fact, Jack is explicity Sam, Cas, and Dean’s kid.

Season 14 - Another good one. My only issue is where they decided to take the plot at the end of the season. I’d recommend watching it all, regardless.

Season 15 - And so we’ve come to the end of the line. This season was... well it was actually pretty good. It started off with what we hellers lovingly refer to as the “divorce arc” where Cas and Dean have a big blow up, and Cas leaves, but that ends with Dean praying on his knees for forgiveness and a nice hug. Honestly this season you can cut the tension between the two of them like a knife, and you can tell Misha and Jensen were doing it deliberately.

I’d say watch up until 15x18, then you decide what to do with the last two episodes. If you want you can watch them to understand just why people put their conspiracy theory hats on, or you can send me another ask and I’ll rec you some post 15x18 finale fics! There’s one fic that’s a replacement for 15x20 written in script format that is particularly good.

Anyway that’s it. It’s kind of left me a little sad, to break down the show in this way. Especially coming up to season 15 nd remembering all the wasted potential. Honestly if you do decide to watch the show, good luck. I hope you enjoy it. I’m also glad you never had to be put through the bullshit false hope that came about after 15x18.

#supernatural #destiel #deancas #spn

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dishonestkilla · 4 years ago

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Bliss

A/N: So, this was inspired by a video @/nishinoyayus posted on tik tok and that is when this headcanon started to bloom inside of me.

Synopsis: Ushijima Wakatoshi, a man of few words and even fewer reactions. If one did think about it, they'd be quick to figure out that the famous athlete was way too stiff for a normal person. However, there was someone who knew better than that, who was aware of Ushijima's stoic personality and what laid underneath the facade. They had seen Ushijima at his worst and his best. When he was on top of the world and when he was lowest. But what happens, when the exact same Y/N happened to trigger an entire inner war to develop between the olive haired male's heart and mind?

TW: angst, mentions of smutty themes, a little foul language, hints at mild drug use(w33d)

The dawning sky brought shimmering rays of light onto the darkened city, the beaming smile of the sun kissing the white sheets spread upon someone's bed. Painted in a caramel gold, the sheets were wrapped around the upper body of no one other than the legendary Ushijima himself. With every shift of his, a muscle twitched, this man had the gods sculpt him from head to toe. The glistening pecs of a deity alike Adonis, honey tinted skin, his face ever so distinctive, prominent jaw and sharp eyes. Overall, the tall man was fairly handsome to say at least.

Despite of his good looks, Ushijima never happened to be interested in a relationship or anything alike, hookups did the thing for him. After all, he was an athlete and did not have the time for a serious relationship, whether his family liked it or not, Ushijima never seemed interested in settling down for the time being, though he never entirely denied it. He always claimed he had yet to find the right person.

But how exactly was he supposed to find a partner whilst traveling all the time? Unlike his current image, Ushijima had matured a lot since highschool, he has changed to a fair extent, Ushijima is not as oblivious as he used to be, he is rather perceptive and has a hunch for understanding the ones around him, though he often simply ignores them if they happen to be of insignificance. He is a busy man and wanting to understand those of no prominence to him would be a waste of time.

The only people he truly cares about are his friends, and to be fair, he tries his best with them, really does. Ushijima is aware of his past and his selfishness, but ever since he has realized that being entirely selfish wouldn't lead one to the top. Therefore he often tried, emphasis on tried to be a good friend, he truly wanted to be, but with how occupied and focused be was, that proved to be harder than expected.

Overlooking all those things, there was one person who always had Ushijima's back, regardless of anything, they had been by his side since highschool, a rock at the stormy shore for him. They never judged him for his behaviour, never claimed they knew better, being the amazing best friend a guy like Ushijima needed.

After highschool, Ushijima had asked them to accompany him on his way to the top. It might have sounded entirely egoistic and self-absorbed, yet that wasn't the case.

Y/N used to be a great volleyball player, they were amazing at what they did, though given the fact that it wasn't their main focus, there wasn't a way for them to go pro. Instead they went to college. Ushijima still remembers how hard working they were, studying till late. However, they always reassured him that it was worth it, and two more dark circles beneath the tender skin of their eyes wouldn't be a crazy change.

Now, they were the co-coach of the national team that Ushijima was part of. Yes, Y/N was not only a great best friend but also a ridiculously good coach. Many would mock the men's team for the latter fact, what they didn't know most of the time, was the fact that as a mere highschooler, alike Ushijima himself, they belonged to the best in their respective field. In their second year they happened to become the second best and continuing on that path, they reached the top, through hard training, extreme measures being taken that sometimes, even Ushijima was worried about his best friend overworking them self.

Fast forward to the current situation, it was around seven in the morning when Ushijima woke up, dragging his broad body towards his kitchen to enjoy some coffee just to be met with the only thing, and honestly most annoying factor of living with his best friend. Unlike Ushijima himself, Y/N lived a double bladed life. One as the presentable and modest co-coach with a short temper who had the men of the team on a leash, a power hovering above them, that even Iwaizumi Hajime, the coach, did not possess.

And then, there was the other side to Y/N, the one who enjoyed getting a kick out of life, the one that drank too much at parties, and didn't mind being higher than the clouds more than often. The worst part? Their very casual hook-ups. One that the olive eyed male had to encounter, topless body on display as the guy stuttered out an apology while collecting his clothes. The heated glare of the bigger man shot daggers at the other, with a grunt he turned his head away as he made a stroll to the coffee machine, luckily, Y/N had already prepared some. Pouring his cup, his orbs fell onto their figure as they walked into sight, leaning at the frame of the door to their bedroom. A mug snug in their hands, though the next sight caused a proud smirk to glaze the face of the wing spider. Unlike what one would await from such a situation, Y/N wore a Jersey, not only any Jersey.. It was the one Ushijims wore during his first match with the national team. They seemed smaller in the piece. It didn't even matter too much that they wore a sacrilege. It filled Ushijima with a weird flame in his guts. It made his insides churn and twist here and there, thus, seeing them wear his clothes while dismissing some one night stand, definitely filled the male with pride.

After both of them had finished their morning routines and had some breakfast, they were off to training again, after all, they had a match in barely two days, everyone had to be on top of their game, prime qualities were the ones needed. And Ushijima knew that as well as his Y/N did.

The two days to the match passed rather quickly and the national team was met with their enemy, it was quite strong themselves. It was obvious that the match would take a toll on the members, so when the last and deciding point fell and the national team of Japan experienced a devastating, yet very very close defeat, that is when Y/N happened to act like the safety rock to the entire team. They told them how the others were older and more experienced, but that they'd get their chance and that the next time, their team would be able to defeat such champion as Poland. They were the second to mention after all.

During the drive home, Ushijima was eerily quiet, yes, that wasn't out of the usual, but the silence this time was heavy, it was thick and laced with tension, tension that Y/N could sense from miles away. They were familiar with the feeling though. The time Shiratorizawa lost against Karasuno, that's when Y/N felt that tension, but that was years ago and ever since, Ushijima took losses not as personal as this time, therefore Y/N decided to get this entire mood out of the way.

As soon as the door closed behind the two, they were quick go grab onto the others wrist, eyes fixing themselves on his.

"Toshi~" their voice was a whispered tone, a tiny purring sensation to it. "Care to tell me what is wrong with you?" They spoke ever so softly as the hand around his wrist let go. "Nothing," the other answered non-chalantly, though Y/N knew better, they knew when he lied. It was that he hesitated to answer, eyes shifting to the ground whenever he did so. "Oh, spare me with your lies Wakatoshi. I can see through your petty dishonesty. So, what is it, spit it out."

With a gruff huff, Ushijima's shoulders slouched slightly, eyes now trained on his best friend, "I missed the receive and messed up, Y/N, I messed this up for us. If it wasn't for m-" before another filthy ounce of self-hatred could even barrel itself out of his plush lips after being processed by that bird brain of his, Y/N was quick to wrap their arms around the torso of the tall man, their head on his chest as their brows furrowed in annoyance while talking to him, " Don't say such things about yourself, everyone knows that you did your best, hell. None of them stopped the ball, they couldn't. And so what if you didn't manage to do so? It is not the end. I think you guys forget who your opponent was. They are not the second best to be beaten down ever so easily. It takes us more training and time but instead of sulking, learn something from it." Listening to his breathing, the calm, steady pace of it being ever so reassuring, but when that flow was stopped by a hitch, Y/N realized one thing. Ushijima didn't hug them back yet, his arms slumped at his sides as he simply stood there, eyes widened in shock and something they couldn't entirely decipher.

Time stood still, Ushijima couldn't move, couldn't speak. Throat dry as if he hadn't hydrated for weeks, months, if not years. Yes, Ushijima and Y/N were friends, best friends, though there was one astonishing fact about their relationship. Ushijima did not ever show interest in cuddling or hugging to begin with, not to mention that he often dodged them, if they weren't after glorious victories.

Most people would tell him to get over it, to stop dwelling over such a simple act. But to Ushijima had a different point of view on the entire thing. Why? Ushijima did not experience the privilege of tenderness. His mother did not hug and comfort Ushijima, she wasn't affectionate. After his father had left, Ushijima was hit with an even stricter family, no one stood up for him, so while maturing, his behavioral patters of being ever so stoic and disinterested could be blamed on that. How could one show excessive emotional reactions when never confronted with them in their household, being told they were inappropriate and would lead to disciplinary punishments?

But the way Y/N swiftly embraced the male while trying their nest to comfort him, something in his mind snapped, as if a pair of chains that had winded themselves around his brain down to his heard had been removed, like a string inside of him had snapped and the sound being the reason for him to act instead of retreat. And in that very moment, Ushijima realized something more, there was a sensation beneath his cold outerior, the usually emotionless Ushijima Wakatoshi felt like electricity was running through his veins, bolts playing hide and seek on his skin, that's when he knew Y/N was more than a friend, more than a best friend, so much more, a soul mate, the partner he needed.

With a big step and almost harsh movements Ushijima basically pulled the retreating Y/N against his muscular chest again, his head burying in the crook of their neck as he held them there, body shaking with vigor as a sob left his throat.

Eyes widening in realization, Y/N pushed a little against the other, just to be confronted with a heart wrenching sight. The big, scary Ushijima with tears lacing his orbs, their fire and flame died down just the slightest as his cheeks were stained with a few glistening streaks with the wetness of the discharge.

"Toshi..!" Before Y/N could continue with their words, Ushijima was quick to shush them down, "Listen to me please. All these years I have been running from any sort of affection, I had no idea how to initiate it in the first place. Which, is caused by the upbringing of my mother and her family, but today, today you showed me that a failure does not make me equal to a failure. You proved to me that I can be weak at times.. zand that craving a casualty like a hug is human nature, and that is why it is okay to hug."

The way Ushijima explained his feelings made the best friend chuckle. Even now his words were controlled and neatly picked. He was such a dork despite of his serious self.

"And there is something more, something I cannot entirely understand, but I think this is what love is. At least the feeling is the same as described in the magazines Tendou used to read."

For a second Y/N was the one stunned, words stuck in their throat. It would be a lie to say that Y/N did not like Ushijima more than a little friend, ever since highschool they had been crushing on their now best friend. When did it start though? Was it when they saw Ushijima and his overwhelming presence in the halls, or was it when Tendou who happened to know Y/N for years as they were friends in middle school, or was it on the field. The game against aoba johsai, was it then? When Ushijima stood there so proud, showed off his skills sthey admired so much? Or was it the day Ushijima came to them, devastated in a sense, not crying but being way too talkative about the match against Karasuno, that night he laid his head on their lap, letting them play with his hair as they listened to music together? That must have been it. That was when Y/N knew they loved Ushijima. But knowing him, they were aware of how focused he was on volleyball and his future. Yes, that second they chose not to indulge with him in any other sense than friends. They'd stop him, wouldn't they?

"Wakatoshi..I do love you, always have, always will, but I don't think this is a good idea, I would only stop you and you know that, too. In our worlds, dating is not very convenient."

Y/N explained ever so rationally, but Ushijima wouldn't understand, he didn't want to, that is why his next movement caused the other to visibly flinch as his lips found theirs, melting into each other. Y/N's resolve simply crumbled in front of Ushijima, a smirk on his lips as one hand tagged with the back of their neck, tugging at the hair, eyes darkening with lust clouding the mind of the mind baffling wing spiker.

Ushijima was a non-chalant, aloof and sober man, but when lust lingered in his being, the entire persona made a 360°. No words needed to be spoken between the two as the large man pushed the soul mate in question into the nearest wall, impatient and needy on both sides, "Jump," he ordered, dominance oozing off of the olive haired man.

Without further instructions, Y/N showed to be compliant in the situation, back against the wall as their lips molded together again, hands roaming each other before one pulled away to catch air. With that, Y/N was carried away, the scent of pleasure and passion filling the entire area.

The rest of the night is a telltale of sinful sounds, a bed breaking due to the impact of the excitement and lustful rage, if one would ask the neighbour's, they'd probably be able to recall the sounds even the devil would consider inappropriate.

From that night on, Ushijima and Y/N happened to be dating each other, not much later making the announcement publicly, and unlike Y/N's fear of rejection by the fans and supporters of the player, they were met with a positive wave. Some even complaining that it took them oh so long to realize while everyone already knew.

The only person more excited than the both happened to be an infamous red head who was now rich off of his skills as the 'Chocolatier fou de Paris' which meant something along the lines of the 'Mad Chocolatier of Paris'. His voice was so hectic and high pitched, a little upset he was not the first person to be told but their friends in their Japan.

Overall, the two were blessed with each other, love finally being gifted to the two. In such cruel and difficult world, Y/N and Ushijima were each others strong rock to lean on.

A/N: This took an eternity LMAO, but I hope yall like it, I'd be happy to get feedback and also, my requests are open, so please, request stuff, I really like writing and requests could help against my writers block. Cyaa💕💕

#haikyuu!!#angst #haikyuu #haikyuu boys #haikyuu imagines #anime #ushijima #ushijima drabble #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima fluff #ushijima x y/n #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima headcanons #hq ushijima #ushy gushy #ushijima is not boring k

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tuffduff · 4 years ago

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#1 Fan (Axl Rose x Reader)

Pairing: Axl Rose x Reader

Words: 2,043

Request: @normatural “Hii, hope you’re doing fine! Could you write some Axl (current or 80’s) x reader, where she’s a famous young (20s) actress and they go to a talk show/interview together? It’s okay if you don’t feel like writing :)) Thank you xx”

A/N: Hello, love! I went with 80s Axl for this one, and lemme tell ya, I LOVE this request so much. I love ideas like these, thank you for requesting! Happy Friday loves! <3

Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia @reigns420 @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @rumoured-whispers @dustnbones

“Critics have already been calling The Winter Trials your breakout film. This is also your first action movie. What was it like filming and working as a lead role opposing Arnold Schwarzenegger?”

For you, doing media to promote your movies was one of your favorite parts of the job. That is, when you got to actually engage in intellectual talk rather than just details of your diet. But this late-night talk show appearance had you more nervous than most.

“It was an awesome experience. Getting into acting, I’ve never wanted to do only one genre, I’ve always wanted to do different types of work. He’s an absolute workhorse and a true professional, which is such a privilege to be around because your company really elevates your own mindset. And he’s so kind! He really helped bring out the best in me.” The talk show host nodded at your words.

“Well, I know I can’t wait to see it and I’m sure the rest of the world feels the same; you’ve really been working hard the past few years to make a name for yourself. Do you have time for anything else? Do you watch MTV?” You laughed despite feeling your stomach drop; you had a feeling this was a segue point.

“Oh, absolutely. Yeah, I love MTV.” You shifted nervously on the small loveseat you were seated on.

“Have you heard of Guns N’ Roses?” The crowd cheered, mainly the women. You pressed a smile on your lips, hoping the camera couldn’t see you sweating.

“Yeah, of course.” You replied evenly. On the inside, you were screaming. You were a huge fan of Guns N’ Roses. When Appetite for Destruction came out, it was the only thing you listened to for months straight. And if there were any other guest appearing on the show with you, you would probably be gushing over that fact.

But your fellow guest star was in fact Axl Rose, and you couldn’t lose your cool. You were actually certain he probably had no idea who you were. He probably didn’t care.

He had a bad boy reputation, known to fly into a frenzy at a moment’s notice. You were America’s current sweetheart.

Ever since you found out you would be appearing on the show with Axl Rose, the only thing you could think about was his reaction to you. He probably thought you were boring, uptight, and some actress snob. He was probably disappointed it wasn’t Arnold Schwarzenegger.

“What do you think of them?” The host asked.

“I think they’re very talented.” The crowd clapped in agreement and you took a breath before you added, “I think their album actually is the greatest debut album of all time. Of any genre.” The crowd cheered louder in agreement and the host’s eyes went wide.

“Wow. Are you just saying that because of our other guest this evening?” You laughed a little and shook your head.

“No! I’m being honest. I don’t ever get asked about my music opinions.” You admitted. If Axl held a certain disdain for you, or no opinion at all, it couldn’t hurt to put your honest feelings out in the open. Right?

“Well, alright then—let’s talk music! Don’t go away, up next we’ve got Axl Rose joining us!” The crowd cheered and clapped in anticipation. You smiled and clapped with the audience, knowing Axl himself was in the back waiting to come out.

Sooner than you expected, the show came back and the girls in the front row were screaming exceptionally loud as Axl walked out. He was instantly an intimidating sight in his leather chaps over his blue jeans, thick studded snakeskin belt paired with an LA club tank top and black leather vest. You swallowed nervously as you clapped, realizing the loveseat you were sitting on would barely provide enough space for the two of you. You saw the host stand to greet him with a handshake and scrambled up to your feet, remembering etiquette. Oh god, were your hands clammy? Was your top wrinkled from where you were sitting? You didn’t even have time to think because as soon as he shook the host’s hand, he was turning to you.

There was something immediately disarming about him. You’d seen the magazine covers and music videos of a rough and tough arms-crossed-and-covered-in-tattoos man, but now, here, he didn’t even look like the same person. He was smiling pleasantly at you and his face was incredibly clear. Smooth and frustratingly beautiful, like a sculpted Greek statue. His hair wasn’t ratty and teased and sprayed in Aqua Net like other rock stars. Instead, it rested against his shoulders neatly, shining a delicate strawberry blonde in the studio’s lighting. Even his handshake as he grabbed yours in his was gentle. You weren’t expecting him to lean forward and kiss your cheek.

“How are you?” You heard him ask next to your ear. It wasn’t small talk other famous people made for appearances, he genuinely pulled back and waited for your answer.

“Good.” You were able to murmur in reply. You could smell his cologne and almost felt your knees weaken.

“W. Axl Rose! Guns N’ Roses!” You heard the host say and you were suddenly reminded this was an interview. You sat back down again and Axl followed your lead. Your legs instantly brushed, and you wondered if you should’ve tried to scoot over, but decided to stay frozen, waiting for him to be the one to move. He didn’t. His leg stayed against yours, brushing yours with his every time he moved ever so slightly. “How are you? How’s the band?”

“Good. We’re really good. We just got done touring for our last album. We’re all taking a short break and getting everything in order before we head back to the studio and start working on the next album.”

“Right, yes. I’m sure everyone’s heard it, Appetite for Destruction?” The host checked with the crowd who cheered and clapped in response. The host turned to you, a teasing gleam in his eyes. “We all know Y/N has.” You could feel your cheeks heating up and you looked down at your lap, unable to even look at the man next to you, though you were pretty sure you heard him laugh. You were eating your words now. “But what I found interesting is, in the beginning, MTV wouldn’t even play your videos. The album didn’t even get notoriety until a whole year later, which doesn’t happen. How did that make you guys feel, Axl?”

“Uh, I mean, it’s kind of disheartening. When you put so much work into something and everything is against you, it only makes you want something more. We had to claw our way to where we are now.” You listened carefully to his words, surprised by how well-spoken and articulate his response was. And his voice, smooth and deep, so different than the earth-shaking screams he could produce. “But, in the end I guess it all worked out. If Y/N thinks we’re good, then we’ve really accomplished something great.” You looked up quickly at the sound of your name. The host and crowd laughed, and at first you assumed Axl was being sarcastic until you saw the smile on his face. One of earnest, with his eyes lighting up a little when you finally met his. You smiled back at him, laughing a little as you relaxed.

“Are you surprised Y/N listens to your band?” The host asked.

“Oh, yeah. It’s a real trip—I almost lost my mind back there while I was listening and waiting to come out because,” Axl shifted in his seat, facing you with his body. Somehow, he managed to appear bold and yet bashful at the same time. “I’m a really big fan of yours. I almost considered canceling this appearance because I was so nervous.” The host and crowd were delighted at his revelation, but you could only sit there with your mouth open.

“…Me? You were nervous to meet me?” You managed to get out. There was no way you could hide the blush on your face now.

“Yeah. I’ve been a fan of yours ever since Don’t You Remember?” You blinked a few times in amazement. That movie had been filmed years ago, when you were barely breaking into the film world. It was a romantic and sentimental 1800s period piece.

“No one’s seen that.” You laughed in amazement, making the crowd laugh too. Axl only smiled sincerely at you, and all of a sudden you felt like a giddy teenager again.

“I have. I liked the title and the cover when I saw it in the rental store. I don’t really watch movies, but I watch all of yours. I go back to that one all the time.” You were speechless. “Yeah, I think you’re incredibly talented. I’d really love it if you starred in one of our music videos someday.” The crowd cheered in agreement.

“I would love that!” You couldn’t help but blurt out. “So much. I’ve never done a music video, but I would love to do one with you guys.”

The rest of the interview went pretty smooth, with Axl shedding a little light on some of the song’s inspirations, what Guns N’ Roses hoped to accomplish in the future, and upcoming tentative tour dates. But it was when you were both backstage together again that you felt the most nervous, just the two of you.

“You know, I meant everything out there. I wasn’t bullshitting you for TV or something.” He told you. Without the noise of the crowd or studio, the deepness of his voice struck you even more.

“I meant it too. I had no idea you were gonna be so…” you struggled to find the right word. Charming. Interesting. Insightful. “…not scary.” You finished lamely. He laughed warmly, but you noticed he stepped closer.

“Did I scare you before?”

“I…didn’t think you even knew who I was,” you admitted. “I mean, your band has this reputation, and I get it. More than you probably know. The media likes to twist you around and paint you a certain way. But I can see there’s a lot more to you than what everyone else thinks they know.” He listened intently every time you spoke, and now, his eyes continued to search yours for a long moment after you were done speaking.

“I think all the hype about you is true. And you’re more beautiful in person.” You were a nervous mess, practically giggling like a school girl at his compliment. “…But I agree with you. And I want to know the things about you no one else knows.”

That was it; you gave Axl your personal number and he called you that next night. The magazines, radio, and TV had a field day with your interview segment and rumors ran rampant of the two of you crushing on each other. The world was obsessed with the idea of the two of you together. Polar opposites—the rebellious rock star and the polished starlet.

There was a mad frenzy the first time you two met for dinner, with pictures in the magazines and tabloids for weeks after. You and Axl then agreed to have secret rendezvous in disguises at odd times of the day and night, the two of you sneaking around and going off to hole in the wall restaurants far from the prying eyes of Hollywood.

As time went on, you kept your relationship very private, though neither of you failed to mention the other in interviews or speeches. You went to each other’s award shows, movie premieres, and concerts. You became the “Guns N’ Roses” girl, appearing in every single video afterwards on starting with “Don’t Cry.” Axl even wrote a song for one of your movies. The both of you were obsessed with each other, always one another’s biggest fan, always celebrating every accomplishment together. Out of any accolade you could attain regarding your professional career, nothing could ever top the true happiness of a partner who loved, cherished, and respected the blood, sweat, and tears you put into your craft. And with Axl, you had that, as he did with you.

#axl rose #axl rose x reader #axl rose imagine #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #gnr #gnr imagine #classic rock imagine #80s imagines

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moonlightchess · 3 years ago

Text

a brief interlude in which a young mortician finally meets his patron saint.

(Diaphanous).

Around five years old, when he first started hearing them. Soft, muted weeping echoing lightly through the cavernous halls just beyond his bedroom door, and by ten he was accustomed to sliding out of bed, yawning, padding to his doorway to step out into the endlessly shadowed maw veining through the upstairs of his family’s home. The moaning creak of the floorboards was easily avoidable if you knew where to slide your feet, which by then he did, and he’d whisper into the dark: “You’re okay. It’s all over now, but stay as long as you need to. You’ll be getting along when you’re ready.” And even then, there was something profoundly tender and melancholy wrapping itself around little Theodore like an aura, to which the ghosts usually responded favorably. On occasion, they’d even slip into his bedroom after he climbed back into bed, gently tugging his duvet over him in thanks.

Sixteen, and Pere introduced him to the family business in the most definitive sense yet, bringing him down into the embalming room. There, he was shown how to drain the bodies, to sew their gums securely closed, to carefully apply powders and lotions to suggest sleep despite death. Pere helped him to remove the heart and lungs of a corpse in the preparation process of the old fashion, despite it having fallen out of favor in more recent years. Bellefontaine, Louisiana, lingered a decade or two behind much of the nation, in every way from embalming practices to racial sensitivity, both topics having already been addressed with young Theodore. “A person is a person, deserving of respect and love and dignity regardless of their skin, wealth, or any other such thing that the ignorant might think defines them,” Theodore senior had informed his small son firmly, long ago, meeting his midnight-blue eyes that were so solemn and sympathetic even then. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Pere.” Theodore had not understood, not entirely, back then. But at sixteen, hunched over the dead body of a local bait shop owner whose wife made the softest, sweetest beignets he’d ever tasted, clarity rose sharp and bitter. “Monsieur Dumonde,” had escaped him before he could swallow the words in the interest of professionalism. “I knew him. Used to buy worms from him when the boys wanted to go fishing, but it’s been so long. I didn’t know he was sick.”

“Everyone dies, ti-Theodore,” and he’d been in love with the way his name rolled from his father’s tongue in a thicker cajun accent than his own - tee-tay-oh-doure, Theodore junior. It was enormously soothing, even now as he considered shaving Monsieur Dumonde’s thick mustache away for his funeral - but in the end, he placed the straight razor back onto his father’s table of sharp tools, aware that his decision had been a test. “No. We leave the mustache, he always had one when he was alive. He used to tug on it and laugh at our homemade fishing poles whenever we went into his shop. His mustache was a part of him, and it’s important that we send him to the next with as much of the man he was intact as we can.” He’d been a little nervous, meeting the dusk-colored eyes that he’d inherited from his beloved father, holding his breath.

“Good boy,” and he’d exhaled. “There are many who would have shaved him, cut his hair, put on some strange new clothes he never would have chosen himself. But you, my sweet and quiet boy, you understand.”

Mere had been a dancer, once. Ballet had been her life, her identity, until a careless would-be principal prince had stumbled into her leap - during a rehearsal no less, she’d been denied even the dignity of a grand disaster to end her career in the middle of a soaringly tragic performance - and her ankle had snapped, had never healed properly. She limped a touch even then, bringing sweet tea out to their wraparound porch thick with creeping ivy and heavy flowers bursting open at random, studding the lush green like jewels in a necklace, where her teenage son sat cross-legged on a battered loveseat long since dragged out to face the elements of the swampland. Together, they would count the darting fireflies, tiny pinpricks of golden light waging a valiant war against the encroaching southern dark. “I was beautiful once,” she’d said to him. “They all used to come watch me dance, in the city.”

“You’re still beautiful, Mere.”

She’d only sighed, slipping a hand into the pocket of her pea-green silk skirt to retrieve a shot bottle of bourbon, hoarded from the liquor store in town, and poured it into her tea.

They were both gone now, six, seven years proper. He’d prepared their bodies, and in death all of his mother’s pain and longing had been exposed to him with the first incision into her cold and rigid flesh for the draining, sixty-two years of ballet and resentment filling up the glass reservoir of the tubing’s end, dark red. She’d always done up her soft, honey-colored hair into elaborate braids, draped over one shoulder or both or trailing down her back or even wound up into a twisted crown if she was in a happier mood than usual. Theodore had sat beside her, holding her stiff milky hand with his own and with the other, scrolling through youtube tutorials on how to create the perfect fishtail braid until he was confident.

Pere had gone five years after, the light in him having drained out as clear and real as every fluid in his wife’s body had eventually found its way into the belly of their aspirator in the basement. Pneumonia had taken his mother - she’d always had a poor and fragile immune system - but his father had been just shy of seventy and to this day, at thirty-two years old, Theodore had never been offered a satisfying cause of death for him. “Just his time, sug,” a nurse in powder blue scrubs had tried, patting his hand soothingly and because this was the south, “I’ll be praying for y’all - well, just you I suppose. Oh lord, you’re the only Bissonette left now, ain’tcha?”

He was. They’d left the entire mortuary to him, and with it all the responsibilities of being the local mortician and funeral director at such a tender age, and his head had at first swum dizzily with all the pressure and expectations. Theodore senior and his wife Lisette had been fixtures of their country community, familiar and comforting, always there whenever someone had passed on to arrange flowers and platters of cold cuts, to deliver gentle words to cushion the grief. They’d been known, trusted, but Theodore junior, well. Ti-Theodore Bissonette, so young to be running the whole house himself, and the folk of Bellefontaine just weren’t sure. Until the death of little Suzette Marchande.

Hit by a car, she’d been, some hideous beast driving drunk through the winding access road circling their little cajun town and pointed out toward Nola proper. He was in prison now, but Suzette remained dead, and in his huge, capable hands Theodore had poured every bit of his father’s knowledge and sensitivity into that girl. He’d dressed her in yellow, one of her own dresses supplied by her mother, but he’d also remembered that she’d loved frogs. She’d catch them in the swamp and hold them in both hands, laughing at their croaky sounds, but then she’d carefully deposit them onto some leaf somewhere. “They got big ones, in the jungle. The Amazon,” he remembered her saying when the Bissonettes had run into she and her parents in town once, years ago. “Big as cars, they are. I’m gonna go there someday and study ‘em.”

So he’d bought sparkly little green frog clips for her hair online, pinning it back from her freckled face. Her favorite stuffed froggie, named Monsieur Ourauron, Mister Ribbitt, had been lost in the crash, but he’d found one in the Amazon - or at least on amazon - that looked largely the same. When her parents had seen her during the open-casket service, they’d wept and clutched his hands, thanking him in a babbling blend of French, English and grief. That day had declared the end of one life and the beginning of another, as little Suzette had been delivered unto whatever waited after, but thirty-year-old ti-tay-oh-doure had been manifest and confirmed.

There was something to be said for how tall he was. He would have thought some would find it intimidating, difficult to relate to considering that he was six-seven or perhaps a touch over, impossibly long limbs and a hawkish nose, soft mouth borne of his Mere and his father’s nearly indigo eyes the color of a sky five minutes before the moonrise. His was soft, floppy, peanut-brown hair and a quiet timbre resonating in his voice that was immediately associated with the unthreatening sense of calm authority that his father had once carried around easy as an old sweater. Theodore would take care of everything, Bellefontaine knew. They’d be left free to grieve their lost, because he was here with his huge hands and endless legs and fleeting smile.

He lived alone, now. There had been flings, lovers, Audrey from Nola with her autumn-brown skin and fox-gold eyes, elegant and sure, but she hadn’t stayed long. “This place is charming, but you can’t actually expect to stay here all your life, can you?” she’d told him once, after the sex, the two of them naked and wrapped around each other in his sprawling bed with a gentle breeze from outside floating through his open window. She didn’t understand, and neither did the men, not even sweet Peter with his auburn curls and dimples.

“You’re all alone out here, doesn’t it get boring? Lonely? My god, you live in a mortuary.” His shiver had been all that Theodore had needed to kiss him tenderly and send him on his way. His father had been extraordinarily lucky to find Mere, he knew - so few understood, the nature of a curator of death. The ancient contract they’d signed, the tradition they’d inherited. It was sacred but horrifying to most, because everyone wanted the convenience of their holy order at the end of all things, but no one actually wanted to have to think about dying. About the fact that literally all of them, rich or poor, pious or skeptical, afraid or unafraid, was going to die. The repulsion, he understood, was instinctive, and he’d only made his lovers breakfast in the morning and never called any of them back.

Some of the ghosts never left, as it was, and there were mornings in which he’d make his way into the kitchen to find his black tea already steaming, his chair already pulled away from the table. Some of them had found their peace here with him, and so he’d leave his cello out on occasion so that they could pluck the strings or plink a few keys on his mother’s old baby grand in the living room. He was happy too, his natural introversion leaving him largely content in his solitary life. There were those who sought comfort in his touch after the funerals of their loved ones, holding onto his hands a beat too long as he bade them goodbye, meeting his eyes meaningfully, but he always released them to the hazy swamp air outside. They were hurting, vulnerable, and he was a gentleman.

It rained the night the stranger arrived, or stormed rather - Theodore’s lights had been flickering throughout the manor all night. He’d collected candles and charged his phone, but his power had soldiered on even as the thunder crashed and jagged needles of lightning slashed open the churning charcoal sky outside. He’d yanked open the heavy oak door in response to some insistent knocking, only to find a man roughly his age standing there on the porch. He was oddly untouched by the rain despite no car present behind him, moon-pale, spilled-ink hair thick and soft over limpid, silver-mirror eyes, colorless as a deep-sea creature’s, slicing through the dark.

“Saints alive, are you lost? Are you all right?” The man, he didn’t know personally, but a truth and clarity rolled from him like steam off the swamp, and he felt enormously familiar somehow.

“I wouldn’t say lost, no. May I come in?” His voice, soft and polite, still clear and steady over the storm.

“Yes, forgive me. Please.” He stepped aside, watching him enter, translucent eyes sweeping over the yawning, shadowed maw of the grand old manor’s entryway. “Who are you? I’m sorry, but I’m not taking in any bodies until morning.”

“I understand. Terribly sorry to intrude upon your evening like this, but you and I, we have a matter to discuss.” His accent was not local, nor was it unfamiliar. It felt like a forgotten dream, abruptly remembered, an old song once loved playing on the radio years later.

“I’m afraid I don’t recognize you, Sir. Have you been to one of my funerals?”

“Sweet Theodore, I have been to all of them.”

“I don’t understand.”

The stranger clasped his hands behind his back, idle as a museum patron, gazing thoughtfully up to the enormous and heavily framed oil paintings of Bissonettes past lining the walls of the entryway. “It’s my fault for allowing myself to become so fond of you, but you’ve never really understood just how rare a person you are, have you Theodore? I shouldn’t have come here, but I had no choice. I couldn’t let you leave here tonight, that tree would have rendered your car to a smoking wreck and your body to worse. And you, sweet Theodore, you deserve so much better. After all the respect and care and compassion you have shown so unfailingly to myself and my vocation over the years - I’ve come to love you, and you deserve a soft and quiet end. So much sweeter than the one planned for you, I had to make sure you didn’t die in that crash. I had to come here, on this night. For all your kindness, tonight I will be kind to you.”

Drunk, perhaps. Some sauced-up tourist stumbling through the bayou after a bar crawl, but - this far from the city proper? “I’m afraid that you’re still losing me, will you please tell me who you are?”

He turned then, colorless gaze meeting Theodore’s, an echo of sorrow in his faint smile.

“You know who I am.”

In the end, it was true. He supposed at least a part of him had known from the moment he’d opened the door.

“I do. I didn’t think I’d meet you this young in life, but I’m pleased to find you a gentleman, Sir. I can only hope that in the time you’ve allowed me, I’ve done you proud.”

“You and your whole dear family. You don’t know how much I owe you, all of you. You would have lingered, in pain, on life support, for months. It was unbearable, unacceptable. Not you, not my Theodore who has served me so gently and so diligently for so much of your life.”

“I suppose it’s time, then.” He was not afraid. Death, he knew. He’d existed out here in a kind of stasis for years, honoring his patron saint, the man standing before him in a soft black sweater and reaching out to slip an arm through his.

“It is. But I think the storm is winding to a close, and the mists are always so lovely. Why don’t we go see.”

Nodding, Theodore allowed himself to be led to the door, turning briefly to look back just one last time into his beautiful old house, his shrine to a softer death than most knew existed. He’d always done his best, to make the transition as easy as possible for those on their way to some other place, and now it was time to go.

“Will it hurt?”

“Not for you, no.” The stranger opened the door then, and Theodore couldn’t be sure that the new world laid before him looked the same to both of them, but he smiled at what he saw.

“You were right. It’s beautiful.”

The house and the ghosts left wandering its halls signed in unison with the departure of their beloved Theodore, but the rain had slowed and the moon had risen and they were patient enough to wait a while. Someone would come, someone as warm and bright as him, someone who would take care of them as tenderly as he had, some new Theodore born. In the end, after all, nothing ever really died, and daylight was coming on soon, sure as a promise.

#writeblr #writing #my writing #fantasy #death #louisiana #i'm still feeling shy about my writing but i'm completely obsessed with this character right now #just a little something i hope y'all like it

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whumpzone · 4 years ago

Text

Tomas and Rowe - Part 5

if you saw me last week saying I’m going to upload every friday.... no you didn’t. also- this is the last bit of comfort for a while!! I promise!

Masterpost

taglist: @sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @oceanthesarcasamfox @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-raccoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld (thank you all! if you want to be added or removed just ask!)

CW: pet whumpee, aftermath of abuse

Rowe’s eyes fluttered open. The small, audibly ticking clock by his bed told him it was quarter past seven. He read it with a small dose of pride- it had taken months, but he had taught himself to tell the time a couple of years ago. He felt odd, twitchy, like he had forgotten something important.

And then it came to him, all at once. His nose was broken. He had duties to perform for his Master. He had slept through the whole night.

The whole night?

He had had a nightmare, of that he knew. Rowe didn’t care to remember what it was about. He didn’t fight it as his waking mind let the details slip away.

Master Tomas had let him sleep, even as he screamed. Kindness beyond understanding. What if- what if it’s not an act-

Rowe quickly stamped out that train of thought. His first task was to make his bed, get himself looking presentable, and then go downstairs and help himself to breakfast.

Once Rowe had prepared his bowl of cereal, he realised that Master Tomas wasn’t around to force Rowe to sit at the table. Kneeling, he tucked himself in against a wall, careful not to let his back touch it. His skin was still raw with whip marks and cuts, despite the bandages Master Tomas had wrapped around it.

Something clattered by the front door, making him jump. Padding over, barefooted, he saw that it was an envelope. His eyes brushed over the letters as he picked it up. He couldn’t want things, he knew that. He knew that. But sometimes- sometimes he hoped that he’d be given a task that required him to read, and someone would teach him how.

Fuck do you need to read for? his old master had said, on the one occasion Rowe had forgotten his place and mentioned it. I like knowing you can’t read my post, Pet. It’s in my interest to keep you dumb.

Rowe put the letter on the kitchen table. His nose ached. He ate his cereal and tried to stop his thoughts running. Rowe was grateful, so grateful for his chores, but he still felt acutely aware of the lack of rules Master Tomas had given him.

When Rowe broke a rule around his old master, he would know about it immediately, a kick or a punch or a swing knocking the lights out of him. But here- Master Tomas was unclear. Did he enjoy making Rowe wait, unsure of his every move, dreading a punishment that could come at any time? He could be breaking so many rules right now, and he wouldn’t even know.

His stomach twisted and he instinctively went to grab his mouth, but fear had made his hand unsteady and he smacked his palm into his nose instead. His mind went white as he doubled over, moaning in pain like an ill-trained, unwanted, damaged Pet. He froze and listened for any signs that he had disturbed Master Tomas, but nothing came.

How much longer could he take this? The list of indulgences that Rowe would have to pay for was growing, and growing, and Master was always so casual about them, and Rowe just wanted to take the punishment and be good. He was so confused and the stress was unbearable when he was left alone with his thoughts. Maybe Master was just waiting for Rowe to break? Maybe if Rowe crawled to him, begging to be hurt, pleading to be beaten raw, Master would be satisfied, and this new and unusual game could be over. Maybe.

. . .

Tomas rolled himself out of bed at eight o’ clock. When he walked into the bathroom, he was happy to see that the mirror was still faint with steam. Rowe had had a shower. It felt surprisingly normal already, having this other person in his house. Looking at the dripping showerhead, he couldn’t help but picture Rowe washing his hair, the bruises on his neck hidden as shampoo ran down him. Unseen, not trembling at Tomas’s feet, able to exist as a person without worrying about what his ‘Master’ thought. It made him feel bittersweet.

He found Rowe dusting the DVD shelf that sat beside the TV, seemingly lost in thought. Tomas picked up the letter and made a point of rustling it. Rowe turned around in surprise and dropped to his knees in an instant, his forehead on the floor.

‘’Master. Good morning. I ap-apologise, I didn’t hear you come downstairs.’’

‘’Good morning. That’s alright- people tell me I tend to walk quietly.’’

‘’M-master, I slept the whole night. Thank y-you for this kindness. I-I-I’m not worthy of it.’’

‘’You are, Rowe. You deserve to rest. Have you eaten?’’

‘’Yes, Master. I- I had cereal.’’

Tomas smiled at this detail. ‘’Good. That’s really good. You can stand back up, Rowe.’’

Rowe unfolded himself fluidly and Tomas, remembering how well it had gone down the last few times he’d done it, reached a hand to the top of his head. Rowe flinched, going stiff all over. Tomas withdrew his hand in surprise and Rowe’s eyes widened.

‘’I-I, I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean t-to-‘’

‘’It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re still- you’re still being good,’’ Tomas tried hopefully. It didn’t exactly cheer him up, but it confused him enough for him to calm down.

‘’M-master?’’

‘’You’ve had breakfast, you’re washed. You picked up that letter. I’m very pleased.’’

‘’Th-thank you, Master…’’

‘’Cup of tea?’’

‘’Y-yes, of course, Master!’’ Rowe said, hurrying over to the kettle. Tomas had been offering him one but…. this worked too. No point stopping him now. ‘’Make yourself some too, if you want it, Rowe. I’ve no shortage of teabags. One sugar for me, please.’’

‘’Of course, Master.’’

Tomas leaned on the kitchen counter and flapped his letter around idly. It was from the bank. Rowe stood awkwardly, waiting for the kettle to boil. He seemed especially on edge this morning, Tomas noted. Probably his nose giving him grief.

‘’Hey, Rowe, come here please.’’

Rowe obeyed, and Tomas held the envelope out so he could see it. ‘’That’s my first name, there. T-O-M-A-S.’’ He sounded it out, pointing to every letter. Rowe nodded, captivated. ‘’You try.’’

Rowe held out a finger, gently running it under the letters. ‘’T..o..m..a..s.’’

‘’Well done! You just read your first word.’’

Rowe’s breath caught, and for a second Tomas thought he had scared him somehow, but when he looked he saw that Rowe was smiling. ‘’Thank you, Master, thank you, thank you.’’

‘’Shall I teach you how to read?’’

‘’Y-yes! Yes, please. W-why though, Master?’’

‘’Why what?’’

‘’Why teach me to read, Master? I-is there something you need of me that requires it?’’

‘’No, no, I mean, maybe in the future? I just figured I would, since you clearly want to learn.’’

‘’I’m not allowed wants, Master,’’ Rowe said quietly.

Tomas decided to challenge him on this one. Maybe it would help change his train of thought. ‘’Who says?’’

It worked! Sort of. Rowe looked stumped. ‘’P-pets can’t have wants. I don’t deserve them.’’

‘’Did I say that?’’

‘’No, Master…’’

‘’Well, then. It might have been a rule your old master enforced, but do you see him here? I don’t. You can have wants. It’s only natural.’’

‘’I… I see. Of course, Master.’’

‘’Say it after me: I want to learn to read.’’

‘’I w- I want to learn to read, Master.’’

‘’Well, it’s lucky that you have me here to teach you then, right?’’ said Tomas cheerfully, giving Rowe a big smile. He mirrored it weakly, but it was a smile nonetheless. Tomas was overjoyed. This felt like progress.

. . .

All thoughts of begging for his punishment had vanished when Rowe realised Master Tomas was in the room. Master- who was strong enough to pick him up, who stood a head taller than Rowe, whose long stares were enough to make Rowe’s heart pound. Rowe was too weak, he realised. Too scared to offer himself up, place himself willingly at Master’s mercy and plead to be hurt. The thought of it as he looked at Master Tomas took his legs from him, and he thought fast and nosed the floor in submissive greeting. If he could just keep his Master happy for now…

Master Tomas seemed cheerful, Rowe noted. He didn’t ask for any kind of penance for the night’s sleep, but at this point it didn’t surprise Rowe. Master Tomas’s voice was so warm, and gentle, and he let himself be soothed by it as he stood back up.

He shouldn’t have flinched- he really should not have flinched. Master Tomas seemed to like patting Rowe’s head, and the first few times it had felt so nice, and pulling away from Master’s touch was unimaginably disrespectful. The kind of behaviour that would get a Pet thrown out. But it had reminded him so suddenly of the way his hair had been grabbed before his head was smashed into the bedframe. Not that was any excuse. Not that Rowe hadn’t completely deserved to get his nose broken. He was such a failure. ‘’I-I, I’m sorry,’’ he begged pathetically, ‘’I d-didn’t mean t-to’’

‘’It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re still- you’re still being good,’’ Master Tomas said. Rowe couldn’t work any of it out. He surely was not being good, so why- why-

‘’M-master?’’

‘’You’ve had breakfast, you’re washed. You picked up that letter. I’m very pleased.’’

Rowe’s heart stopped pounding quite so hard at this. An explanation always ordered his thoughts. Master was so generous. He still couldn’t quite stamp out the stammer as he replied, ‘’Th-thank you, Master…’’

‘’Cup of tea?’’

‘’Y-yes, of course, Master!’’ Rowe said, practically jumping to attention. A task, he could do this, he could make Master Tomas happy, he could be good. He gripped the kettle firmly as he filled it, ignoring the way it made the burns on his stomach throb. Ignoring the worry this might be a trap, Master might hold Rowe down and pour the boiling water over his skin, ignoring all of that because it was a very simple task and if Rowe didn’t want to get thrown out he had better sort himself out and start behaving right now.

‘’Make yourself some too, if you want it, Rowe. I’ve no shortage of teabags. One sugar for me, please.’’

‘’Of course, Master.’’

Rowe had never had tea before. He decided to try it how Master liked it, spooning sugar into both mugs. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Master looking at his letter.

‘’Hey, Rowe, come here please.’’

Rowe walked over, about to kneel when he realised Master was showing him the letter. Please, please don’t make fun of me, don’t make me try to read, you know I can’t- ‘’That’s my first name, there. Tee-Oh-Em-Ay-Es.’’

Rowe blinked. The letters suddenly had names, and sounds. Master Tomas pointed to each in turn. ‘’You try.’’

There was something like excitement rising in his chest. For once he didn’t worry about why Master was doing this. ‘’T..o..m..a..s.’’

‘’Well done!’’ cried Master, and it sounded so genuine, ‘’You just read your first word.’’

Rowe gasped. A peculiar feeling was flooding his chest; it felt warm, and urgent, and it made Rowe actually smile. ‘’Thank you, Master, thank you, thank you.’’

‘’Shall I teach you how to read?’’

‘’Y-yes!’’ he squeaked, far too loudly for a common Pet, ‘’Yes, please. W-why though, Master?’’

‘’Why what?’’

‘’Why teach me to read, Master? I-is there something you need of me that requires it?’’

No matter what it was, Rowe would do it. Master was being so kind. He felt so obedient, so obliged to him. He’d do anything.

‘’No, no, I mean, maybe in the future?’’ Master didn’t owe him an answer, of course he didn’t. ‘’I just figured I would, since you clearly want to learn.’’

‘’I’m not allowed wants, Master,’’ Rowe said immediately. If this was a test, he could do it right. He knew what Master wanted to hear.

Or, at least, he thought he did. ‘’Who says?’’

Rowe couldn’t answer this. It was just how things were! Everyone knew that! ‘’P-pets can’t have wants. I don’t deserve them.’’

‘’Did I say that?’’

‘’No, Master…’’ Was Rowe being disrespectful? This was strange and new and unnerving.

‘’Well, then. It might have been a rule your old master enforced, but do you see him here? I don’t. You can have wants. It’s only natural.’’

Rowe’s brain hurt slightly as it recalibrated. Rowe could want things here. Okay. He could do that. This was a rule, and Rowe could stick to it. ‘’I…I see. Of course, Master.’’

‘’Say it after me: I want to learn to read.’’

Rowe obeyed, even though it went against everything he’d been taught. If he were with his old master he’d have been belted before he even finished the sentence. But he wasn’t. He belonged to Master Tomas now. ‘’I w- I want to learn to read, Master.’’

‘’Well, it’s lucky that you have me here to teach you then, right?’’ Master said brightly. Rowe met his eyes. Master had such a sweet smile- toothy, with no malice behind it. Rowe couldn’t help but smile back. He was allowed to want things! It didn’t make sense, but nothing seemed to make sense here. Rowe struggled to find an angle in which having desires would benefit Master Tomas, but a rule was a rule. The kettle boiled.

Rowe found that he rather liked tea.

. . .

[Hey Kas, I’m gonna go out soon to get some groceries n I don’t really feel okay leaving Rowe home alone. Are you free?? Huge favour I know but if you could come over while I’m out I’ll be rly grateful x]

[What time?]

[In like thirty mins??]

[Sure no prob]

[Thank you!! I owe you one! x]

#next chapter is a big fat whumpy one get excited >:D #whump #whump fic #pet whump #mine #tomas and rowe #pet whumpee #fear #master/pet #aftermath of torture

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