#and then ill walk away with my head hung and a tear slowly falling down my cheek

[nomazee]

march will always and forever make a cameo in each one of my fics even if she's not the main focus and trust that in every plotline she is secretly in love w the reader

[zumek0]

draft 04; dostoevsky, f.

↪︎ fluff, fedya having a soft spot for his lover, reader is sick, gn reader, written with a fem reader in mind tho, references to irl dostoevsky’s life, surprise angst at the end, mentions of death.

↝ summary: when you become ill and are unable to fall asleep, he reads to you. the action feeling both familiar and distant to him.

You sneeze. Four times, actually.

You getting sick was highly inconvenient for Fyodor, as it prevented you from fulfilling your duties as a member of the Rats in the House of the Dead. He had to disregard plans and work his way around being down not only a member, but also the best assassin in the organization. Not to mention how it not only affected his organization, but also the Decay of Angels.

As annoyed as he was with the whole situation, seeing you in such a miserable state didn't bring him any kind of joy. On the contrary, he felt his heart hurt when he saw your teary eyes and heard your hoarse voice. Not that he would ever let you know that.

He stands up from his office set up and heads to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He can't concentrate, so he decides that he might as well check up on you. That is, of course, because he needs you to get better so you can get back to work immediately, and not because he heard you cough a little too much and a little too hard.

He places the glass on the bedside table. He hears you thank him weakly. "Are you okay?" he asks uninterestedly but scans your face for any kind of discomfort. "Tired..." you sneeze after you answer.

"Then sleep." He hands you a tissue, which you barely muster enough energy to take.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

Fyodor sighs and then leaves the room. Your eyes start tearing up again, this time because you want him to stay with you. The whole image is comical: a killer as cold and ruthless as you, crying miserably because their boyfriend wouldn't spend time with them? Even if someone were to see it with their own eyes, it would be hard to believe.

Fyodor returns to the room with a book in hand. The cover torn and creased from the passage of time. It is Fyodor's favorite. Even if he rarely touched it, you knew he held a great fondness for that book in particular.

He lays down in the bed and looks at you expectantly. While your moves are slow, he waits patiently for you to make yourself comfortable against his chest. He opens the book on the first page.

"On an exceptionally hot evening early in July a young man came out of the garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked away slowly..."

His soft voice and regular heartbeat lulled you asleep.

A young dark haired man lies kneeling at the foot of his bed. His head is hung low and his fingers are intertwined. After he finishes his prayer with an "Amen", he gets up and heads for his mother's room.

He enters quietly and finds his father already there, sitting on a chair by his mother's side. Her head turns upon hearing the door opening and a warm yet tired smile makes home on her face.

"Fedyen'ka." Her voice, although strained and tired, sounds happy to see him. "Come here, my angel. Your father and I have something for you."

He is given a book.

On a late night while talking to his mother, he had entrusted her with the knowledge of his passion for literature. Talking about some of the books he had managed to get his hands on, weather by acquaintances of his lending him some, or by the old man in the shoe shop who let him stay a couple of hours after his work ended just so he could read some of the books that he kept in the backroom of his store. That night his mother promised him that for his sixteenth birthday, she would get him a book of his own.

She had never broken a promise, yet there were still two months until his birthday. Fyodor understood at that moment that his mother was probably going to die before that.

A simple "Thank you." is all he could muster.

That night he was unable to sleep. His father went out to tend to some business, so the house would've been completely silent if it weren't for the coughs of his mother.

He gets out of bed, grabbing the book from the wooden dresser next to the door to his room. When he enters his mother's room, the coughing stops.

"Oh, Fedechka, did I wake you up?"

"No, mother." He takes a glass of water from a table nearby and puts it up to her lips. She takes a few sips. "Are you unable to sleep?" She nods.

He leaves the glass back on the table and grabs his book. His mother's gaze follows him as he moves to sit on the chair where her husband usually sat beside her. He opens the book on the first page.

"On an exceptionally hot evening early in July..."

She falls asleep with a smile on her face as she listens to her son's voice.

Two days later, Maria Fedorovna Dostoevsky would pass away.

Fun fact: i spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to understand which Russian pet names and nicknames are most common, just to end up not using any because in my head they’re already speaking Russian.

If you recognize what he's reading, ur hot. Ahhh I'm so in love with fedya, but i’m not sure if i like how this turned out...

— han.

[shions-new-blog-of-stuff]

"Guardian Angel"

[Canon x OC] [Leon x Catherine (OC)] CW: Blood, gore, zombies doing zombie things, injury, canon-typical violence? For my biggest fans @squashfics @whateverthefuckyouwantiguess @likesugarandcyanide@allen-444 @oreo-leon

@xcyberhexx

@lex-the-flex

@cilantro24

AN: This has been stewing around in my head for a while. I might turn it into a longer story. Maybe. Very stream of thought, quick writing, I just REALLY wanted to put something to paper/word pad 😂 What a night.

It started off as an evening at the local school of music--St. Cecilia's. Catherine had received an invitation to the annual concert from a old friend from high school, who had moved back to town in order to take classes there. A perfect excuse for Catherine to get all dressed up--white blouse, a black neck ribbon, black pencil skirt and matching shoes. The performances from every student filled the auditorium with fantastic melodies. After the final performance, there was to be a grand dinner held for everyone attending.

But now, Catherine was trapped at the far west wing of the school, hiding in an office, pain shooting up and down her leg. Unable to walk, she quietly sobbed as the moans and sounds of shambling feet got closer to her position.

It happened so suddenly--out of nowhere it seemed. She overheard some chatter in the ladies room about a few members of the faculty and a couple students falling ill. And then a small crowd of people began attacking several members of the audience and the class onstage.

Catherine could still hear the terrified screams, and the almost squishy sound of flesh being ripped apart. Then the fire alarm going off and thundering footsteps as the panicked crowd ran in every direction. She had ALMOST made it to the exit, only for someone to shove her forcefully from behind, sending her falling down the stairs. Now suffering a sprained ankle, Catherine now had to use the wall for balance.

In her attempt to make her way to another exit, her blood ran cold at the sight of a blonde woman hunched over her old friend, clawing his stomach open, her blue dress torn in places, her skin grey and missing her nose, her eyes a solid egg white and mouth covered in blood.

This can't be real.

This just can't be real.

Catherine gasped and covered her mouth, which caused the blonde woman to slowly look up, staggering to her feet, extending her arms forward and letting out a pained groan that echoed in the hallway.

Catherine lost her balance and fell backwards into the office, crying out in pain as she scrambled to shut the door. The woman outside continued to groan and begin to pound at the door, staining the glass window with blood and guts.

Moving backwards to the corner of the room, Catherine rummaged through her bag for her phone. But it wasn't there, which is when she discovered the tear in the bag. Everything except her wallet, which was in a side pocket, had fallen out in the confusion and chaos.

Defeated, Catherine started writing out some last goodbyes in her head as the glass shattered and the woman flopped over the window, crawling towards Catherine. Gasps became caught in Catherine's throat as she watched in horror as her friend was also lazily shuffling towards the door, blood streaming down his neck and shoulder, his expression blank.

With inhuman strength he pushed the door off its hinges, and Catherine hung her head, hugging her knees and shutting her eyes.

Gunshots rang out, and Catherine fell over, covering her ears. It was only a few minutes, but felt like an eternity. She slowly opened her eyes, to see both the woman and her friend lying still on the floor, a foot away from her. They never touched her at all.

A figure with a familiar voice gently helped her sit up.

"Cath."

There he was--Leon, wearing the clothing she remembered him in during that whole strange ordeal in Spain--but also an expensive-looking, but soft to the touch leather jacket with multiple pockets.

Catherine threw her arms around his back, burying her face in his neck.

"God…Leon…it's…it's really you," she mumbled into his jacket.

"Of all places to find you," Leon replied softly as he moved her to face him, "you all right?"

"My leg. I can't walk…sss! I think it's sprained."

Leon briefly pulled an arm away to retrieve a little ink-black beeper looking device, pressing a few buttons before putting it away.

"Real quick. Catherine, those people," Leon pointed at the two downed bodies. "Or others like them, were you bitten?"

Catherine shook her head no.

"Scratched?" Leon continued.

Catherine shook her head no once more, shifting to check her arms, neck, and legs. "What's happening…? Oh god, Leon, is it the parasites again?"

"No, it's not…but arguably just as bad…" Leon carefully put his arms around Catherine to pick her up. "It's…it's a viral infection. When it gets far enough, well…"

"My friend, he…he was being eaten by that woman…but then he got up. He was already dead, Leon…but…"

Leon stepped over the corpses, and out into the hallway. "Never wanted you to experience this Cath, but it's exactly what you saw--the dead walk."

He looked down at Catherine with a melancholy expression. "C'mon sweetheart, let's get out of here."

[s111ut]

watching eddie play guitar was absolute torture. he just looked so perfect, you couldnt help but stare at him. the way his long, calloused fingers would skillfully play each chord had you dripping. "i can feel you staring, babe," he chuckled, feeling called out, you almost immediately look away. you move to sit next to him on his bed and affectionately put your head one his shoulder. "you alright baby?" he kissed the top of your head

"want you," your voice was barely above a whisper, you started to kiss his neck. he grinned at your neediness. "what was that baby?"' he asked while he hung his guitar back up on his wall, walked back towards you and lifted your chin up to make eyecontact, "said 'i want you' ," you whined. "here, ill tell you what, ill let you ride my thigh. how does that sound, hm?" you huffed at the suggestion, you wanted to feel him inside of you. "oh cmon, dont be greedy sweetheart, should be thankful im giving you anything at all," he cooed.

nonetheless, you complied. before you knew it he was helping you remove your shorts. once they were removed, his eyes were glued to the wet spot on your panties, "poor baby, youre dripping," he teased as he started to situate himself against the headboard of his bed. he patted his thigh, a signal for you to get on. desperate for a release, you straddle yourself on his thigh and needily started to rut yourself against him.

"hey hey hey, take it easy puppy," he said so condescendingly as one hand gently gripped your throat, the other moving towards your hips to control your pace. "eddie—i need it so bad," you whimpered at him, giving him your best puppy eyes. "nuh-uh sweetheart. you can cum when i say you can," he ordered. he removed his hand from your throat and moved it down towards the other side of your hip. with him controlling the flow of your hips, you had no choice but to oblige with the movements, softly whining. "there we go, youre such a good girl," he praised, kissing your forehead.

the praise had your brain going foggy, " 'm your good girl," you softly muttered. "mhm, my good girl. the best" he assured you. the friction was too much, you could feel the coil in your tummy start to tighten, your breathing got heavier as you desperately tried to get out of his grip and move at your own pace but as a response, his grip only got tighter. "hey. whatd i tell you? dont be greedy. take what i give you."

you needed to cum so bad, "youre so m-mean," you stuttered out, tears started to brim your waterline, slowly starting to fall down your cheeks. he shakes his head, "no tears baby, too pretty to cry," he wipes away your tears and kisses them away softly. " 'm not trying to be mean, just know whats best for you," he cooed as he continued to control the movement of you against his thigh to the pace of his choice.

youre so close to cumming, you look up at his big brown eyes nodding, "can i please cum? wanna cum for you," you pouted. he kissed your pout and smiled softly at you. "youve been so good for me puppy, cum for me my love," he encouraged. and at that, you let it all out, stuttering against his thigh pathetically as your orgasm takes over, he moves one of his hands to rub your back. "good fuckin' girl, there we go sweetheart. so so pretty when you cum," he praised. you practically go limp against his thigh, you move to get off his thigh, "thought you were so desperate to cum?" eddie wraps his hand around your throat and gently pulls you back down on his thigh. you whimper from the overstimulation. "you're done when i say you're done."

[bluiex]

hi bluie. i had a dream about this concept that i'm now going to just spew it out free form because blood loss coupled with general sleepiness makes it very hard to pre-plan ficlets ___________ Ten years is a long time to dedicate yourself to something. Be it a person, a love you hold close, a place, somewhere that brings you solace and peace, or even an idea, worship towards a high being, a decade is an incredible length of time to hold yourself fast to something.

Scar had visited the Watcher's temple, without fail, every day for the last ten years. Rain or shine, with a smile on his face, or, like that first night, tear stains streaking down, he was faultless in his devotion to the place.

Of his home village, a few wondered why he bothered; the Watcher of their world had gone quiet many centuries ago, his temple in disarray. If there was a god living there, it was once upon a time, and he had been buried under the weight of his followers.

There was no god, many of them thought, living in the ruined temple.

Others shook there head solemnly, thinking, "there he goes again, looking for answers where there are none. He'll give up his mourning soon enough."

Scar was never particularly religious in his youth, the Watchers to him back then nothing more than a fairy tale. But time and tragedy changes you, and the repetition of walking the several miles to the temple every evening, slowly and meticulously cleaning and maintaining the space into something beautiful once more, it gave him hope.

Besides, he knew that their Watcher wasn't gone. He was a small voice tucked into the corner of Scar's ear, whispering. Tell him fortunes that soon became true, predictions about the people around him, the ill wills and wonderful joys that would come into their lives.

Scar became a prophet, and the town came to one conclusion: grief had driven him mad.

Because it didn't matter if he was right down to the second about rainfall, or who would fall gravely ill, or who would have triplets under a waning moon, none could move past the looming pain that Scar had underwent.

Ten years was a long time to mourn someone. And as far as devotion went, ten years brought the feeble Watcher strength, and a physical form once more.

The Watcher, however, did not choose what form he took. With only a single follower to his name, he took on the former of that who Scar loved most, who his devotion was really for.

"You're not him," Scar said quietly, broom in hand, dusting away as he felt the Watcher stare at him from across the room. "You look like him, and sound like him, but you're not him. You're not my Grian."

"Then why do you stay?" the Watcher asked him.

"Because you let me pretend that he's still here," Scar smiled, finally turning to look at the Watcher properly. "And, one other thing."

The Watcher looked every bit like Grian did the day before he died: short and thin, but his face still full and pink. Golden hair sitting messily, like a bird's nest, lay atop his head, the faintest dusting of freckles painted across his cheeks. An emerald pendant, Scar's proposal gift, still hung from his neck, atop a dark red, hand-sewn cable knit sweater.

But his eyes were wrong. A piercing, amethyst hue stared back at Scar, though he couldn't fault the Watcher for it. Those eyes kept Scar grounded after all, that this being wasn't his to love. It wasn't something worth loving at all.

"You've given me a decade of time he should have gotten, instead," Scar added, going back to his dusting. "He was devoted to you first, after all." "You still have not forgiven me for that," the Watcher reasoned.

"My husband was killed by his devotion to you," Scar answered, though you could not see a line of anger in his face. "He acted out your whims and followed your every word, and you let him die in your name." Scar looked back up at the Watcher, his glare piercing enough to make even the god shudder. "Everyone thinks I've lost my mind. They all think that you're not real, and those who do think that you might exist, are scared of becoming what I am now: a mindless, grieving widower." He smiled once more, only now the Watcher realized that it was not a smile of kindness, but carefully planned deception. "I am your very last follower. When I die, you'll die with me. I've made sure of it."

______

-☾

BRO I GOT GOOSEBUMPS AT THE END

BRUUUUH

your dream- blessed. amazing. omg

[saturnsstufff]

Epolouge: The Empress

Warnings: slight NSFW

"Thena, sweetie, you can't play with that-" Techno warned to his child, moving the wrapped sword away from her tiny hands.

"But Daddy- you said you'd teach me!"

As Athena got older it was obvious she shown sides of taking after her father. Her curiosity in weaponry, speech, and body language told you that much. But, to be honest, you didn't mind.

You would admit, after being away from the toxicity of the empire, and the people it entailed, life was much simpler, and way more humble. It was homey, something far more than the large palace was. Instead of large marble floors, tall lengthy walls, and perfect matching fabrics, the cozy cottage home Techno and you built was made of warm, strong logs, wooden floors that gave off a warm glow, mismatched blankets and curtains that hung with care, showing they were frequently opened and closed. It was perfect for your small family. You adored it.

After the fall of your kingdom and the near escape you all had, life was hard to adjust to. Techno was distant, scared he would lash out at you again like he did in the library. You wanted to tell him it was ok, that it was a terrible misunderstanding between the communication, and the people holding the letters. Yet, the way he grabbed you still had you hesitant. You could still remember the first few months within the tundra.

Your eyes watched the brute cut more logs. The way he moved the axe, you wouldn't have expected him to be a once prestigious emperor. Instead he looked like a boy far past his years- someone overly exhausted.

The baby in your arms was easily fast asleep. Warm and cozy from the near fireplace, and if that wasn't enough, her mothers arms and chest opted as a warm cushioned resting place.

The past month was hard, both mentally and physically. Between the tension techno and you had, and the fear of Athena getting too cold from no true shelter, you both were at your wit's end. Thankfully Techno and Phil worked to built a small shelter. Something you could rest Thena in, well the three of you worked to build a more suitable home for a family.

The rocking chair you were seated in offered a soothing place to think back on it, of course your thought's were disrupted when Tech walked back inside the home. Logs over his shoulder for the fire, not wanting it to die out and bring the tundra chill into the home.

"Did she fall asleep finally?..." he asked softly, setting the logs down. Although he walked over to the two of you, he didn't rub his finger on her cheek like he normally would, he probably had sap on his hands from the wood. Something that was now normal.

Your smile came easy to his tone "yeah, she zoned out pretty quickly after she ate. You were right about rice cereal, she's not as hungry anymore" your eyes went up to meet with his. His smile was just as gentle as yours. "Where did you even hear about it?"

"I was curious if it would... I was trading in the village and I herd it from a elderly woman" he explained, moving to the sink to wash his hands off.

Your curiosity perked at this.

"You did?"

He hummed and wondered back, sitting on the couch, still respecting the space you wished. Just because you two were married didn't mean it was all sunshine and rainbows. Things were still healing, you still got weary around his touch after the library incident, and he was still blaming himself for the years you were alone. He didn't feel like you could forgive him so easily- he knew you shouldn't.

"Mhm. She saw me looking at a small plush and rattle. She asked if I had any children or if they were for a friend... I explained I had a fussy infant... she kind of laughed and told me a few ways to avoid it..." his cheeks went pink as he glanced away.

It was easy to believe Sarah tampered with the letters, the tech in the letters was cold and distant about children. Where the one you laid with every night cooed, and played with his daughter, eager to show her the world. One thing he did for her almost made you break down in tears.

Due to fleeing for your lives, Athena no longer had toys, blankets, or anything she needed. She even lost her plush, the one she slept with every night. When she was particularly fussy one night, you explained to techno why. Of course he was saddened too, he didn't wanna hear his little girl cry, no parent did. So the next day he found some scrap fabric and sewed together a small Pig for her. You would always remember how eagerly she pulled it into her arms.

In the end. It was easy to see Technoblade was a family man.

When night time rolled around, you were thinking back on all the nights techno held you close. After his return you both slept with a bit of distance between you. The first night you both were tightly within each other's arms, too scared to loose each other again. But after that something about laying tightly like everything was ok didn't feel right. So the two of you kept a bit of distance, easily a hands reach away if needed.

Tonight however, you wanted tech to hold you. You wanted old times back, the endless giggles, the warm arms, slight smirks, his nose in your neck content with life. You missed it so much.

So when Techno crawled into bed, you fallowed in suit, but instead of crossing over him for your place by the wall, you sat atop straddling his waist. The action alone was enough to make him pink, and curious. His hands didn't rest on your hips, rather you guided them to rest there yourself, showing it was ok for him to touch you.

You could feel how hesitant he was. He didn't want to scare you, drive you away farther than you already were.

"Princess... what are you doing?" He asked softly, admiring your form above him, dearly missing the sight deep down.

"Tech I miss you... I miss you holding me, making love to me, whispering how much you love me... I miss how close we were..." you said slightly pained.

He drew a slight breath, the air coming out shaky. "Darlin'- Princess... look... I miss it too... But I hurt you... I accused you of sleeping with Orion, i also assumed you hated me... It made me draw my sword to you... it made me Grab you-" he was cut off by you.

"And I forgive you... it's in the past... we can move forward... I mean... I'm assuming you wouldn't do it again..." you said slowly, watching him discard your hips for your hands.

"Ill never raise a hand, or blade to you again... never again... God's I love you too much to even think of hurting you like I could have... Your all I have..." he said softly, tearing up slowly. Thinking back on it, he hated how he acted, he was hurt and took it out in rage, he took it out on the one person who endlessly loved him.

After talking out how you two truly felt, you tried to make love again, the action felt odd, yet long awaited, Both of you desperate to feel one another after so long without each other, but sadly when Tech moved you under him, you watched his eyes well with tears before he fully broke down in tears.

Their may have not been physical intimacy shared, yet the wounds of words, and actions began to slowly heal, and it all started with techno burring his face into your chest, his sobs drowned out by the wild wind outside the cabin.

Your thoughts were shaken from your mind as you watched your daughter try to charm tech into teaching her sword play.

"You promised!" She said, hoping it would budge the stubborn Brute.

"Yeah, well I promised your mother a new ring too and all she got was another one of you-" he said scooping Thena up into his arms, holding her upside down to get her to laugh.

"Yeah well she can take Ares back! I don't want a brother!" Thena said, sounding like she meant it. "He’s annoying and he always cries at night" she explained, finding her reasoning good enough.

"It sounds like you when you were his size" you said with a smile, stepping up beside your husband, almost eye level with your child. "Ares is young, he'll grow up and get quite darling. Crying is his only way of communicating he needs something" you explained, moving your head so you were somewhat looking her in the eyes.

When tech started to tickle her, it brought smiles to you both. Over the years her giggle, and laugh had become your shared favorite sound. Athena was so innocent and pure, she was the only hope that had survived the darkness of the empire. Luckily out of that darkness came a stronger relationship between you and Tech, even if it took time to develop again.

Without the empire down his throat, he had become much more relaxed. Even his voices seemed to dull down quite a bit. Not only that, but with his son born he felt more at home than he ever had.

This was, and always will be better than what you suffered. This was the life you and Technoblade deserved, after every tooth and nail fought for normality, this was rewarding. This was home.

[wellsayhelloaagin]

Dirty little secret part 2 but bring Nat in 🤧🤧

Here you go anon, just what you asked for.

Part Two with some Nat thrown in.

Read Part One here.

Dirty Little Secret, Part Two

~1.4k words

(mentions of terminal illness)

You look at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing down the front of your dress and adjusting the straps to make sure they were sitting right.

You could feel the butterflies settling in your stomach, the nerves almost overwhelming you. If you had eaten anything today, you would surely be bringing it up by now. You close your eyes and take a deep breath to try and steady yourself, releasing it slowly as your hands tremble.

“Oh, will you relax already?” you hear from behind you and you open your eyes to see Natasha looking at you in the mirror, a soft smile on her face.

She wraps her arms around you from behind and hooks her head over your shoulder. You relax a little in her embrace, but the nerves still rattle through you.

“You look beautiful,” she continues, kissing you on the cheek. “They’re going to be so jealous of you.”

You roll your eyes at her, pulling her arms loose and spinning around to face her.

“You don’t know these people, Nat,” you tell her, your voice serious. “They made my life hell over something out of my control.”

She smiles in understanding, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and leading you out of the bathroom.

“Well, your life isn’t hell now,” she tries to reason with you. “You have a great job, your own house, a tonne of amazing friends and a smoking hot wife.”

You laugh at her as she throws you a wink, dropping her arm from your shoulder and walking over to lie dramatically across the bed.

“What’s this about a hot wife?” Wanda asks as she walks into the bedroom, smiling widely as her eyes meet yours.

She looks incredible in her dress, the material clinging to her in all the right places and you find yourself falling in love with her all over again.

“Nothing,” Natasha replies, faking innocence. “Just giving this one a pep talk about tonight.” She jerks her thumb at you, rolling over to get more comfortable on the bed.

“Are you still nervous, detka?” Wanda asks, looking at you with a frown.

You shrug in response, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth and chewing on it anxiously.

“I’ll be right by your side the whole night, I promise. I won’t let them touch you, not this time” Wanda tells you earnestly, pulling your lip free and pressing her own lips to yours.

You sigh into the kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck, hoping to forget about the upcoming night for just a few seconds. You’re just starting to lose yourself in the kiss when you hear a retching sound nearby, and the two of you pull back to watch Natasha pretend to dry heave.

“Jeez, you two do know you have an audience right?” she asks, feigning disgust.

You laugh at her theatrics while Wanda just scowls at her.

“Last time I checked, this was my bedroom,” she huffs out, resting her hands on your waist. “Can’t you go annoy my brother for a while?”

Natasha rolls her eyes, rising from the bed and walking toward the door.

“That poor bastard has a whole lifetime of me annoying him to look forward to,” she calls out over her shoulder. “But I guess I can start a little early.”

She closes the door behind her and Wanda grumbles under her breath about painful sister-in-laws’ while you just chuckle. Truthfully, you knew Wanda loved Natasha and she couldn’t wait until she and Pietro got married in a month. You were happy that Wanda would have someone like Natasha around.

You were all back in your old hometown for the weekend, staying at the Maximoff household together. Tonight was the night of your ten year high school reunion, and to say you were nervous about facing your former classmates was an understatement.

You had barely hung on until graduation and the second you left for college you had never looked back. College was a whole other world, one where Wanda was happy to be by your side. You still face the occasional backlash for your relationship with her, but both your families had welcomed the news of the two of you being together.

Your relationship only became stronger out of the shadows and ten years on you couldn’t imagine your life without her. The day you had stood in front of all your friends and family and shared your vows with Wanda was the happiest you had ever been. It was a memory that would stay with you until the day you died.

Wanda is still scowling at the door that Natasha had walked through, so you turn her chin with your finger and bring your lips back together. You can feel her smile into the kiss, her hands tightening on your hips. You want to drown in this moment, her lips making you feel heady.

Your eyes are closed and you start to feel a little lightheaded, swaying sightly on your feet. Wanda stops the kiss, pulling back to study you with worried eyes.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her tone apprehensive.

“Yea, just got a little dizzy for a second,” you reply, trying to lean back in but she takes a step back.

Wanda grabs your hands, leading you over to sit on the edge of the bed. She crouches in front of you, cupping your cheeks softly in her hands, studying your face intently.

“You look pale,” she tells you with a frown.

You bat her hands away, crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child and looking at the floor.

“I’m fine,” you pout, “I just forgot to eat today that’s all.”

You hear her sharp intake of breath and you don’t have to look at her face to know the concern that would written across her features.

“You have to look after yourself, detka,” she whispers, her hands resting on your knees as she tries to get you to look at her. “You know what the doctor said.”

The doctor had said a lot of things.

You had gone in for a simple check up but a few tests later and you were sitting in front of the doctor, your hand gripped firmly in Wanda’s as they rattled off a diagnosis. Most of the words went straight over your head, too technical for you to wrap your mind around. One however had stuck, replaying over and over in your mind as Wanda’s grip started to turn painful.

Terminal.

“I know,” you sigh, meeting her eyes. You see the tears she’s trying to blink back and you feel guilty for making her worry about you. “I was just nervous about tonight, I promise to have something before we go.”

“We don’t have to go,” Wanda offers with a shrug of her shoulders.

“But you wanted to go spend time with your old friends,” you reply, frowning at her.

“I’d rather spend time with you,” she counters, her hands cupping your cheeks again as she brings you into a gentle kiss.

The rest of her sentence is left unspoken, but you know what she’s thinking.

She would rather spend her time with you because there was so little time left you had to offer her. There would be time to catch up with old friends after you were gone; after you had left her alone to pick up the pieces and move on to a life without you.

So you don’t argue when she tells her brother that the two of you decided to stay home that night. Pietro doesn’t try and convince the two of you to change your mind either. You see the realisation in his eyes, the way he hugs you just a little tighter before he and Natasha leave for the old school gym.

Wanda leads you back up to her room and the two of you undress each other slowly before sliding under the covers. She brings you into her arms, holding you against her chest. You pretend not to feel her tears hitting the top of your head and just try to soak in the moment. You don’t know how many more nights you’ll get to be with her like this.

The doctor’s words swirl around your brain as you listen to Wanda’s steady heartbeat under your ear.

Two more months.

[dreamerstreamer]

Breathless

Pairing: Dream / Clay x asthmatic!gn!reader

Summary: Life with a chronic illness isn’t always easy, and some days are more difficult than others, but you always manage to find yourself breathing a little easier with Clay by your side.

Warnings: tw// depiction of asthma & asthma attack

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: my second commissioned story! this work has been altered from its original form so that everyone can read it, but the plot and writing remain largely the same. this was more specific and required more research than the stories i typically write, but i hope you all enjoy nonetheless! <3

The smell of sanitizer and antiseptics tickled your nose as you pushed past the hospital office door, folding the piece of paper tucked in your hands into quarters. Slipping it into your pocket, you raised your chin, the paper resting comfortably next to the familiar weight of your inhaler. You stretched your arms above your head with a small groan, rolling your shoulders back as you made your way down the hall with a small bounce in your step.

Respiratory therapy may be good for you, but your favourite part was still when you got to go home.

You rubbed your hand over the patch stuck to the inside of your forearm, the tiniest hint of red colouring the ivory white cloth as you pressed your fingers gently against it. Letting out a sigh, you faced forward once more, your eyes lighting up as the waiting room came into view. Walking a little faster, you was just about to head into the waiting room when you froze, your eyes falling on the figure sitting in a chair pressed up against the wall adjacent to you.

Clay was drumming one hand against his thigh as the other scrolled leisurely through his phone, Tweet after Tweet flying by on his screen. In his ears hung a pair of earbuds, and you could see him gently bobbing his head along to the beat of whatever song he was listening to, his foot quietly tapping against the tiled hospital floor. You traced your eyes over the bridge of his nose and the crest of hair that tickled the top of his forehead, a fond warmth rushing through your chest.

He always waited for you no matter what, even if you told him not to. It didn’t matter if he had a stream planned just a few minutes after your session would wrap up or if he was in the middle of editing a video—he would drop everything to wait for you, patient and caring as always. He was just stubborn like that, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to get him to swallow his pride, as much as you may try.

Blinking as you gazed at him, a thought suddenly popped into your head, a devilish ember tickling at the base of your spine. Your lips split into a sly grin, your eyes narrowing as the cogs in your head churned. Ever so slowly, you crept over to his side, just barely keeping yourself out of view until you were standing just diagonally behind him, a single step away. As quiet as a mouse, you reached your hand forward and dipped your head down beside his ear, gently tapping his shoulder. With a start, Clay jumped in his seat, his eyes shooting wide open as he whipped his head up to look at you. In a flash, he was tearing out his earbuds, his phone going slack in his hands and a bright smile tugging at his lips.

“Boo,” you whispered, waving your hand at him as your lips stretched widely across your face.

“Hey,” he said, gentle and warm as he reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers between his. “You done with therapy for today?”

You beamed proudly, bobbing your head. “Yep. We’re all good to go.”

The gleam in his eyes was as sweet as honey as he got to his feet, slipping his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. He tilted his head at you, and before you could ask if anything was wrong, he had raised his free hand to brush a stray strand of hair away from your face. A second later, he was dipping his head to yours, and you shivered at the warmth of his lips pressing against your forehead while he murmured into your skin, “Perfect.”

When he pulled back, he squeezed your hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles lovingly. With one last grin, the two of them began to stroll out of the waiting room and into the front hall.

“So,” he said after a moment as they turned a corner, “how did everything go, today? Did anything different happen?”

You shrugged, gesturing vaguely. “Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Got my blood oxygen level checked, did some breathing tests and exercises—” You eyed the small patch on your arm with a wistful glance. “Just the usual.”

A comfortable silence washed over them as they swung their arms together in a charmingly off-beat rhythm, occasionally brushing their sides up against one another with a small smile. Beside you, a nurse bustled past with his stethoscope bouncing around his neck and a clipboard clutched to his chest. You glanced over at him, then opened your mouth again. “What about you?” You shrunk back the tiniest bit, your fingers sheepishly twitching against his. “I hope you weren’t too bored or anything waiting up for me.”

Clay laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “For you? Never.” You felt your heart stumble in your chest as he continued. “I just scrolled through Twitter for a while, then I made a tweet about the donation I’m making for my next video—you know, the one to spread chronic illness awareness.”

Leaning against his side slightly, you sighed, your head stuffed full with adoration for your boyfriend as you pressed your head into his warmth. “That’s incredible, Clay,” you murmured, squeezing his hand. “You’re incredible.”

His lips twitched into a ghost of a smile, and he squeezed your hand back. “I try my best.”

You felt your heart swell, and you resisted the urge to kiss him in front of the hospital staff right then and there. Just how lucky could you be to have someone as lovely and compassionate as Clay in your life?

Stepping into the front lobby, he gently nudged his shoulder into yours, stepping to the side to make way for another patient. The ringing of the secretary’s phone made you jolt beside him, but not once did his eyes leave your face. “I’m guessing we’re coming back the same time next week?”

You flashed a grin at him, winking sheepishly. “You know it.”

The chuckle he let out made your stomach flip, affection nipping incessantly at the back of your head. “Awesome,” he hummed, sticking his hand into his pocket. Fishing around, his mouth quirked up a moment later as he pulled out a ring of car keys, clasping his fingers around it. “Alright—let’s go.”

You blinked, your lips curling into a frown as the automatic doors parted in front of them. “Wait, I can drive us.”

He shot you a fond look, shaking his head. The sun’s warm rays cast a golden sheen to his dirty blond locks, his eyes practically glowing in the midday heat. “Nope, no can do.” He jutted his head toward the car, which sat a few yards away in the parking lot beside the hospital. “You drove us here, and now it’s my turn to drive us back.”

Something flashed in your gaze, and your tongue darted out to swipe at your lips as your fingers twitched at your side. “You say that,” you began, your hand shooting forward toward the keys in his, “but not if I get the keys fir—hey!”

A gasp flew from your lips as your hand met nothing but open air, Clay having leapt back with his arm stretched up high above his head. Stumbling back a few steps, shimmering mirth danced in his gaze as he waved the keys at you, just barely out of reach. “Too slow, baby.”

Scowling, you leapt forward yet again, your fingers desperately reaching for the keys as he simply stepped off to the side, backpedaling until a few feet stood between the two of them. The glare you shot him only seemed to egg him on as he began to twirl the silver key ring around his pointer finger playfully. He was teasing you now, you knew it, and you were not going to take any part in it.

“Clay,” you said slowly between gritted teeth.

“[Y/N],” he drawled back, a wide grin still plastered to his face.

Just then, you were bolting over to him, a small breeze biting at your face as you lunged for his hand. You could feel your lungs tighten as the warm, humid air came rushing into your chest, but you were far too focused on the glint of metal against his skin to care. Clay’s eyes went wide as his hand suddenly snapped shut around the car keys, his arm pinning itself to his back as his other hand reached out to steady you against him.

“Okay, okay,” he cried, his fingers gently pressing into the fabric of your shirt, “no running! Please.” His voice suddenly went soft, and your feet came to a grinding halt before him, your lungs heaving. “I don’t want you to stress your asthma.”

Feeling your heart batter against your rib cage, you sucked in a breath, rocking against him ever so slightly as you lifted your chin at him. “Then will you please let me drive?”

He blinked at you for a moment, a thoughtful look passing over his expression. “Hmm... should I?”

You gasped, bobbing your head eagerly, a hint of a smile gracing your lips. His tongue poked out at the corner of his mouth, and you felt a glimmer of hope spark in the pit of your stomach. Yes!

Then, he smiled, apologetic and teasing. “Still no.”

Your face fell in an instant, twisting into a pout as you sagged against his side with a whine. His grin only widened at the sight, patting your on the shoulder with a gentle nudge. “Sorry, [Y/N],” he hummed, turning on his heel to walk over to the driver’s side of the car, “but I’m not budging on this one.”

You groaned, begrudgingly dragging yourself over to the other side of the car and tugging the door open. “Ugh. You,” you said, flopping into the passenger seat with a frown and your arms crossed on top of your frontside, “are the worst.”

He let out a chuckle at your face, pushing the keys into the ignition and turning his hand with a knowing look. “Sure, sure,” he murmured, soft and low. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Despite yourself, you felt your heart flutter in your chest at the pet name, melting back into the car seat as your arms went limp over your chest. Sneaking a glance over at him, you felt warmth skitter across your face at the way his eye caught yours, loving and true. Huffing, you feigned annoyance and stuck your tongue out at him, but you couldn’t quite stop the smile from tugging at your lips, something pink and fuzzy bubbling up in the core of your chest as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

You were so driving next time.

You picked at the patch on your arm, your gaze focused intently as your nails carefully peeled back one of the corners. Gently grasping at the lifted flap, you tugged backward, the patch slowly peeling off until it was popping off your arm with a satisfying flick. Smiling triumphantly to yourself, you walked over to the garbage can and tossed the used patch in, relishing in the feeling of the cool air brushing over your now exposed skin. Leaning against the kitchen counter, you tugged your phone out of your pocket, swiping open your phone with a soft hum.

It had been a few days since your last respiratory therapy session, and you were feeling good. The new breathing exercises you had been suggested were working amazingly, and it almost made your feel like you didn’t need to keep your inhaler on hand every waking second.

Sucking in a deep breath, you held it in for a long moment, then exhaled, feeling the air rush out of your lungs in a single gust. It was right then that a small itch rose into the back of your throat, and you coughed just a little bit, swallowing sharply as you straightened. All of a sudden, a head popped into the kitchen doorway, golden brows knit together with worry.

“[Y/N]?”

You whirled at the sound of your name, your gaze immediately landing on Clay’s pursed lips on the opposite side of the room. “Mhm?”

He cocked his head at you, his eyes scanning you up and down for a split second before locking onto yours once more. “I heard coughing.” His eyes flashed. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, shooting him a reassuring grin. “Yeah—just choked on some spit or something. It was nothing serious.” When he only blinked at you, you firmly added, “I promise.”

Just like that, his shoulders relaxed once more, and a soft smile crept onto his face. “Alright. I just wanted to let you know that I’m gonna be editing for a couple of hours.” He jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be in the next room over if you need anything, alright?���

You grinned, sending him a playful salute. “Roger that.” Pushing back against the counter, you slipped your phone back into your pocket and strode across the kitchen over to him, stopping just a tile in front of him. “How much is it this time?”

One side of Clay’s mouth curled up into a thoughtful expression. “Well,” he began slowly, leaning against the doorframe, “I’ve got about five hours of footage and audio to cut down into about fifty minutes, so...”

He gestured vaguely with a pained expression, and you offered him a sympathetic look. “It’s a lot?” you prompted.

He let out a long sigh, weary yet sure as he bit back a wince. “It’s a lot.”

Shuffling a step closer, you reached your hand up to brush your fingers over his cheekbone, gentle and sweet. “You’ll do great,” you said quietly, your eyes curving into crescent moons alight with ardent and honest affection. “You always do.”

Clay leaned in to your warm touch, his eyelids fluttering for a moment as he let out another sigh—an enamoured one, this time. “I love you,” he whispered, sincerity seeping into every letter he breathed.

The fondness of his voice made your heart melt into a sugary sweet puddle in your chest, and you let your hand bury itself into his soft locks. “I love you, too,” you whispered back.

With a warm gaze that made your insides tingle, Clay was dipping his head, and you let your eyelids fall shut as you let your mouth part ever so slightly. A second later, his lips were pressed against yours, plush and loving as you felt yourself smiling into the kiss, his hot breath tickling the side of your cheek. Just a moment later, they broke apart, warm air rushing into your lungs as you flashed him a bright grin.

“Go ahead, now,” you murmured, nudging his shin with your foot. “You’ve got lots of footage to sift through.”

Standing up straight again, he rolled his eyes as he turned on his heel with a dramatic groan. “Why did you have to remind me?” he cried over his shoulder.

You could only laugh in return, waving at him with a jesting bow and grinning at the way he pretended to be offended. You watched as he slunk into the next room over down the hall, pushing the door shut behind him with his arm. With a hint of a smile lining your lips, you hummed to yourself before strolling out of the kitchen and into the living room. Flopping onto the couch with a huff, you settled back against the cushions with a comforted exhale and pulled out your phone once more. You relished in quiet moments like these, even if you would much rather be spending them with Clay. Maybe you would make him a snack or something, just to help him ease up on all his editing.

You had only been sitting for a few minutes when you felt a familiar itch gnaw at the base of your neck once more, and you ducked your head into your elbow to let out a harsh cough. Your chest felt tighter than it usually did, and you furrowed your brows. You had been breathing just fine less than an hour ago. What in the world could be possibly changing that?

As another cough welled up in your mouth, you turned your head, sweeping your gaze across the room. Just as you began sucking in yet another burning breath, a flash of cerulean blue caught your eye, and you froze, your jaw going completely slack.

The window was open.

Everyone had their own asthma triggers, whether it was a cat allergy or some nasty pollution. But for you, having so much as an open window could be more than enough to send your body spiralling into overdrive and straight into an asthma attack.

And by the looks of it, your body was doing just that.

Your lungs felt tight—too tight, almost as if a boa constrictor had snaked up your spine and wrapped around them, constricting them until they were nothing more than two, tiny, trembling slivers in your chest. You let out a choked gasp, then desperately tried to breathe in, only to feel your lungs screaming in protest within the cavity of your chest, fuzzy pain swimming throughout the entirety of your body. your windpipe felt like it had been squeezed into the size of a straw, and you knew it was only a matter of time before you began wheezing. With a hammering heart, you stumbled to your feet, your hand reaching for your pocket with a shuddering cough. Patting against your thigh, you suddenly seized up when you felt nothing pressing up against your palm. That was when it hit you.

You had left your inhaler upstairs in the bedroom, back when you were feeling better than ever just a couple of hours prior.

You half wanted to cry out of both amazement and agony—how ironic was it that you would have an asthma attack the one time you didn’t have your inhaler on you?

You could practically hear the blood rushing through your ears as you took a shaky step forward, holding yourself upright as much as possible as you tried to remain calm. Or, as calm as you could when you couldn’t breathe. It would take too long for you to go all the way upstairs and grab your inhaler—there was simply no way you would even be able to make it that far.

Luckily for you, you knew just where to find another one.

Striding as quickly and steadily as you could on your shaking legs, you pressed your way out of the living room and down the hall, breathing as deeply as possible despite just how narrow your airway felt. You coughed again, the inferno ripping through your lungs like a raging beast as you grasped at the wall for support. It was like someone had sat on your chest, pressing down like an iron anvil slamming into the earth from a cliff.

It hurt.

You could feel the back of your eyes sting more and more with each desperate gasp for air you took, and your entire body felt like it was about to collapse beneath your . You nearly sank with relief when you finally reached Clay’s door, your knees buckling like a newborn fawn’s. With a muffled choke, you wrapped your hand around the door handle and twisted it, pulling it back as hard as you could. The door slammed into the opposite wall with a reverberating thud, shaking the floor with a low creak.

In front of his desk, Clay jolted at the sudden sound, ripping off his headphones as he spun around in his chair to face you. “[Y/N]?” he said, confusion clouding his face. “What’s wro—”

You cut him off with another cough, the flames licking at your throat with a burning vengeance as you frantically gestured toward your neck. An instant later, you were sinking to the ground, wheezing for dear life. That was all it took for Clay to come barrelling out of his desk chair and across the room to your side, one hand already digging itself into his pocket.

“Oh, crap, okay,” he rambled in a panicked rush, pulling an inhaler out of his pocket. “[Y/N], please look at me. I’ve got a rescue inhaler here.”

Forcing your head up to meet his frenetic gaze, you could feel tears brim along your lashes, opening your mouth for him. Not even a split second later, he was gently pushing the inhaler past your lips, one hand carefully gripping the plastic while the other reached for your hand.

With a quivering voice, he slipped your hand into his. “Ready, set, breathe, baby.”

He pressed down on the top of the inhaler, and immediately, you were sucking in a harsh, aching breath. Almost instantaneously, you felt a cool mist of medication spray against the back of your mouth, your throat relaxing the tiniest bit as you exhaled. A few seconds later, he was pressing down again, and you were inhaling as much as you could. For a few minutes, they stayed like that, your hand squeezing his as tightly as possible as you took breath after agonizing breath, your lungs working beyond belief. You weren't keeping track of how much time had passed, focusing only on the simple act of breathing and the feeling of your lungs slowly expanding in your chest. Every so often, you let out a tiny whimper, and he would reassuringly squeeze your hand in his, his emerald eyes filled with an intensity you rarely got to see.

At long last, you tapped thrice at Clay’s hand wrapped around yours, and in a flash, he was pulling the inhaler from your lips and letting it rest in his lap, his eyes desperately scanning your face. Your chest felt like it had just been unraveled from a wound-up ball, and you leaned forward the tiniest bit, your palm pressing against the ground to stabilize yourself.

“Clay,” you whispered, your throat feeling raw and your voice coming out with a slight rasp.

His name was only about halfway out of your mouth when he was wrapping his arms around your shoulders, the warmth of his hands soaking into your skin. “[Y/N], are—are you okay? Does your chest hurt? Does it still hurt when you breathe?”

You took in a staggering breath. Then two, then three. After a few long seconds, you lifted your head, flashing him a brighter, calmer smile. “I—I’m okay. Y-Yeah, I’m—” You cleared your sore throat, not missing the way his eyes flashed with concern. “I’m alright.”

His palms were still tense next to your arm. “Are you absolutely sure?”

You reached a hand up to grab one of his, gently prying his fingers into yours with a soft promise. “One hundred percent.”

His eyes focused on yours for a moment longer, then he was sagging with relief, his shoulders finally slumping. “Good. Really good. That’s great, honestly.”

You laughed at his reaction, your heart only just slightly trembling between your aching lungs. “Thank god it’s over. Just, woah, um,” you rambled, your words coming out in a hazy rush. “That was—holy crap, that was so… so...”

He raised his hand, and you suddenly fell silent as he warmly patted your side. “Slow down a bit, baby,” he said gently, his brows sloping downward. “I don’t want your lungs acting up on us, again.”

You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut for a second before whispering, “That was so scary.”

Just like that, his face was flooded with compassion, and he brushed his thumb over your cheek with a soft croon. “It was. It’s been a while since you last had an attack.” You melted against him, soaking in his every word. “Do you know what triggered it, this time?”

You paused, furrowing your brows before cocking your head. “I, um, there was an open window. In the living room.”

Clay blinked at your . Then, his expression slowly shifted to one of realization, the horror creeping onto his face like a stalking beast. “Oh, god,” he breathed. “I—I opened it when we got home from grocery shopping today. I just thought... it might be nice to have some fresh air, and—” He ran a hand through his hair, anxiety flicking at his head. “I wasn’t thinking. [Y/N], I’m sorry. That was terrible of me, I—”

His voice cracked brokenly as he dropped his head, and you were immediately throwing your arms around him, climbing forward and into his lap with a soothing tone. “No, no, no, Clay, no. Don’t say that.” You pressed your hands to his face and lifted his chin until he was looking at you again with wide, ashamed eyes. “You’re so good to me,” you whispered, “so wonderful in every way. If you didn’t have an inhaler on you, we would have had to call 911, and—”

You shook your head, your lips curving up into a gentle smile as you leaned forward to press your forehead to his. “Clay, you’re the best. Really, I mean it. Don’t think so poorly of yourself.”

For a minute, all was silent. Clay’s lips were parted with what looked like a mixture of awe and admiration, and you watched with surprise as he suddenly tugged you closer to his chest, your chin resting upon his shoulder as he squeezed you tightly. You could feel his breath tickle your ear as he whispered the softest of words into the quietness of the room. “God, I’m just glad you’re safe.” He brushed his lips against the shell of your ear. “You’re too important for me to lose.”

You gulped, your heart somersaulting through your chest and barrelling right through your lungs. You could feel your eyes water the tiniest bit as he rubbed a small circle into the curve of your waist, and you smiled as he nestled your head into the side of his neck.

He always managed to take your breath away in the best way possible.

[minshookie]

All Play, No Work.

Pairing | CEO!Yoongi x reader

Genre | yandere,angst

Summary | “your secret relationship with Yoongi is all smooth sailing,until Mrs Kim gets in the way.”

!warnings! | mature language, workplace bullying, gossip, and infidelity. Also some pretty steamy scenes, for readers 18+.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 2k.

A/N | “I’m so happy you enjoyed “meetings at midnight.” I never really expected over 100 notes that’s crazy! I may have gotten a little carried away with this one but I hope you don’t mind & enjoy it as well. I’ll probably be making a part 2, please take any mistakes as love ❤️”

The disturbing rattle of the air conditioner served as white noise while you toyed with the drooping noodles swimming in the savory sauce placed before you. A few of your coworkers droned on about their plans, their kids and undeserving husbands leaving you alone in the corner of the depressing break room to think about what to expect when getting back to your cubicle. Which was a little less depressing than the powder white painted room you resided in now.

“Y/L/N, Min is asking for you.” The conversations stopped and all three of us looked up into the door frame. Jimin,Yoongi's assistant stood with his hands buried in his stiffly pressed pants pockets. “I-I’m on lunch.” You slowly went back to your lukewarm meal, taking a few noodles into your mouth. Chewing, You waited for the heavy pitter patter of his polished leather loafers to exit, but You never get what you wish for.

“Y/N, please don’t make me have to run back up there just to run back down here and tell you the same thing….c’mon.” He came closing your tupperware, sighing as you pushed it into your lunch bag, embarrassment growing on your features as he stood over you. The stare of nosey coworkers followed as you stepped out of the bland break room. The clacking of Jimin’s shoes found your nerves rather quickly, closely he walked behind you like a school principal making sure you went where instructed.

Taking you past your cubicle to leave your lunch you could almost taste the jealousy being thrown at you like missiles. Disapproving and confused whispers and glares followed you out the area. Reaching the stairs, out of sight of your colleagues you out ran Jimin, the looks, noises and scoffs getting the best of you. You practically threw yourself through yoongi's door, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Hey! hey! Bunny, got here quickly didn’t you?” He walked over locking his loyal assistant out. Falling back on the couch struggling for your breath, closing your eyes, you heard him walk around you. “I told you I’d see you after work, we’d have all night together.” Sighing, he pulls you up by your arms. With a grunt he sat down and replaced your head on his lap. “I know what you said, but did you really think I was going to wait...why should i?” Opening your eyes you met his soft gaze. “Tell me you love me.” He whispers, almost ashamed in himself. Needy, needy,needy,always needy. “This can’t be why you called me in.”

“Why should I?” You laughed, obviously he didn’t share your sense of humor as he tugged harshly on a strand of your hair. “Well if I didn’t love you I’d quit Yoongi.” Rolling over you cuddled into his soft tummy inhaling his masculin scent, this here under him locked in his dim office was your safe place. “No you wouldn’t, I pay you too much.” He murmured petting your back with his large hands. “As if!” You giggled into his tummy, pulling back to look up at your lover. His signature smile displayed on his features, moving his hands from your back he places his limber fingers at the back of your knee. Locking eyes he slid skillfully under your skirt to massage your ass over your panties. “Who were you hiding from today hm?” Groaning you rolled your eyes, you hate how he knows you so well.

“Kim?” “Mrs Kim is the least of my worries now.” You grimaced playing with his buttons. “Mm good, can't be the new girl, maybe her boyfriend?” Your eyes shot open, “boyfriend?! Who?” He planted this topic in the conversation, knowing your interest in the drama of your workplace. “Yeah, she’s running around with the coffee boy.” Laughing, he cut himself off “Jungkook.” He laughed almost uncontrollably. “That’s so cute since when?!” He hums calming down, “uh since about last month, I’ve been watching them get all close and flirty jeon puts extra cream in her coffee, she blushes blah blah. And you know Jimin is the nosiest person in the population of this place.”

You chuckled Nodding in agreeance “learned that way before you did, he was my cubicle neighbor before he was your assistant.” Sitting up you go to his drink cart to grab a bottle of water. “Yeah they’re cute as long as they stay on task, Answer the question though, who’s bothering my baby hm? I hate seeing you that way.” He comes from behind gliding his hands around your front pulling you into his embrace “you have a whole cafeteria in the next wing, I made sure they served your favorite today, and yet you chose the shitty break closet.” His rambling turns into background noise as you look through the one way window. Watching as your coworkers attended their duties, Jungkook balanced coffees in his arms with skill the new girl watched in admiration...I wonder what he’s actually here for.

Yoongi’s breath fans your neck causing you to shiver against him. “I’m sorry what’d you say?” “You’re ok.” He turns you around swiftly kissing you passionately against the glass obviously you’ve missed something. Though unseen the act feels extremely dirty. Dropping your water you cling to his shoulders, legs around his Slender waist. “You're not paying me to make out with you I hope.” He pecks your nose, gnawing his bottom lip. “Huh looks like I am.” “Ah, as tempting as that sounds Yoongs-” “don’t ever call me that.” He nips at your neck in retaliation. “I have a stack of papers on my desk that Mr Jimin has been beating me over the head about.” Groaning he loosens his grip around you. Letting you gather yourself before going to his door.

“I’ll see you tonight yeah?” Pouting,he came kissing your lips once more. “I’ll be waiting.” He opened the door and watched you strut down the stairs.

Getting back to your respectful area, you notice something was off...where’d your lunch go? You could’ve sworn you threw it on your desk. Pulling out the rolling chair to take a seat, “I’ll find it later.” You whispered to yourself,taking a seat, directly in the cold remains of your lunch. “What the fuck!” A wave of laughter was given with your ill response. Noodles dangled from your backside as you turned to look at the mess on your office chair.

“Okay! What are we a bunch of middle school virgins?” Jimin shouted, his face turning a dark shade of peach. “I’m sorry y/n.” Rolling your eyes you tried to keep back tears of utter embarrassment turning away from you colleagues. “Uhm...it’s pretty bad, do you have anything to change into?” He takes off his styled coat and hands it to you. You can’t process over the harsh giggles and whispers, “yeah like I have a closet in my car, Jimin I don’t have shit to put on!” You hiss making him pull an offended expression.

“I could give you something.” Your head snapped in the direction of the quiet new girl in the far corner. “I have a few dresses in car I-I I’m in the process of…” she scans the room unsure of her words “moving.” You offer a smile to cover how distraught you are, unable to respond correctly. “Thank you luci, we appreciate it.” Nodding she smiles softly grabbing her bag going to retrieve the clothes. “Go to the restroom, please.”

Tying the coat around your waist you rushed with your head down to the bathroom, shutting the door behind yourself roughly. Taking off the grey coat Turing to examine your soup covered ass. You brushed the cold noodles letting them splat onto the tiled floor. Pulling coat off the conjoined sinks you found the spacious stall at the end of the row, stripping off your soiled skirt. Nothing better to do, but to sit on the cold stool and wait.

The creaking door of the bathroom cut your silent thoughts short, isn’t Luci a quick one? You chuckled to yourself getting up, about to tell her of your whereabouts…“maybe if the bitch didn’t have her head so far up Min’s ass she woulda saw it coming.” The unknown voice stopped you in your tracks. Her friend snickers. “Shh she could be in here.” “As if I give a fuck, she needs to know!” Peeking through the side of the stall you could see them in the mirror touching up their makeup. “Min’s probably got his head up hers too!” The quieter of the two spoke up.

“Ha that would explain my recent hours, I heard they fuck in the office, I wonder if the sluts any good.” She cleaned the edges of her lipstick, “I’ve fucked him, I know he’s good, really into all the rough shit, he’s crazy.” She tossed her makeup into her bag fixing her hair, “why’d you guys stop?” You felt your chest ache, yoongi never told you about him and Mrs Kim, what kind of fucked story is this? “Little miss pasta booty got the job, and Joon finally proposed...guess he didn’t want me any-” “y/n are you in here?!” Luci’s softened voice searched for you.

“I’m in here.” Responding slightly above a whisper, the soft steps of her pumps were trampled by the clicking steps of the two mud slingers who quickly bursted from the restroom. “I didn’t know what you would like, I have this blue one, it’s a cute summer dress.” She hung it on the door of the stall for me to see. “Or this white one, it’s a bit tighter but I think it’ll look great on you.” Randomly choosing you stripped of your top pulling the dress over yourself. “Thanks Luci, I owe you one.” Collecting your clothes and Jimin’s coat, you left the stall. “No no, I’m sorry Kim did that to you...I should’ve stopped her.” She coyly hangs her head, “not your fault...thanks Luci.” She smiles politely, leaving me alone in the bathroom.

Eunji That jealous bitch, yoongi has much explaining to do. You smooth out your dress bracing yourself for the environment behind the door. only to be pushed back. A deep blush pink shade covering his face, yoongi brings you back in, “you can’t be in here, this is the ladies.” He scans your body before looking at the dirty laundry in your arms. “This is my building. I can be anywhere in any room I want.” Scoffing you attempt to leave, grabbing your forearm he pulls you back. “What’s going on with you I’m here to check and see if you’re alright and here you are acting like an ass y/n” his face held a concerned stare.

“Yoongi the last thing we should be doing is huddling in the bathroom, we’ve drawn enough attention to ‘us’ already.” Unable to look him in the eyes you examine his posture, he propped your chin on his pointer finger bringing your face up. “And since when did you care?” “Ever since your ex painted my ass with my lunch.” He giggled darkly, “what?” Again you attempted escape, only to be overpowered and lifted with ease. “Okay sit the fuck down.” Placing you down in the sink like a child he took your skirt looking at the back. “And this just had to be the one I bought?.” He shook his head like a disappointed father. “What are you acting so mad towards me for, who’s supposedly my ex huh?” He took the skirt under the faucet scrubbing it harshly together with soap.

Why can’t he ever just leave you alone, drawing attention to your relationship was the last thing you needed today. It’s not like nobody knew, it was hard not to. But you hated the unwanted attention the favoritism brought you. “Who lied to you?” “You did.” He stopped the water, “y/n now you know I’d never.” He folded the cleaned wet skirt along with your shirt. “Yoongi, I heard Kim Eunji talking about it. She told her little follower about it while I hid in the stall.” You answered blandly, ready to be freed from the bathroom. His face shifted shades, “what? I’ve never fucked that bitch, all she does is lie and get into shit she has no concern for.” He gripped the sink roughly.

Like a switch, when the right buttons were pushed Yoongi’s temper was quick to strike….though never thrown at you. It can have harsh outcomes and you've seen it first hand. “She runs her mouth about you too much, I’ll have to help her out.” Aggressively released the marble counter, “Yoongi w-what, calm down.” He walked to the door, unsure of what to do. Naive of his wrath you followed behind. “She wants to get fucked? I’ll give her something that’ll fuck her up, something that’ll make her piss off for good this time.”

Not my image

[aesthetic-angel612]

BREAKING DOWN CONTACT BARRIERS- BUCKY BARNES

Bucky was never a physical contact type guy, not even a handshake. Y/N was the opposite, but her powers slowly break his barriers.

Masterlist

Bucky wasn't a hugger. Anyone with a brain knew this. He didn't like physical contact at all. It made him feel vulnerable, like anyone could do anything to him at any moment. The only person he let touch him was Steve which consisted of a pat of the back; and Bruce but only if he got injured. Apart from that, he never had any physical contact that wasn't violent. 

Y/N on the other hand, didn't mind it. She wasn't clinging to someone every second of everyday, but after a mission, he'd hug her team; when moving past someone, she may occasionally lay her hand on their waist to get past and when greeting she'd shake hands. Polar opposite to James. And she knew this. She learnt that pretty quickly. Whenever her hand would move towards him, he'd immediately flinch away. At the end of a mission, when she was hugging the others, he'd have his back turned with his head low, then eventually walk out the jet with his head hung low still. Y/N was confused but never questioned it. She knew she'd be able to break him, it was part of her powers. She couldn't explain how, but she just could, but it would take time. It was no surprise she wanted too...I mean look at him. He was attractive and he had so many layers to him and she wanted to unravel every one. 

The first time you touched Bucky was in the kitchen. HE was making a cup of coffee and you had poured yourself some water, he was in the way so you ever so slightly pushes past him, hand on his waist. You hadn't even thought about it, it was a natural action for you. This made him tense slightly but he soon relaxed as it was over quickly. Shaking it off, he continued to make his coffee.

The second time you touched, was on a mission. It wasn't difficult but you did need a hand. After being knocked to the ground, a piece of the ceiling had fallen on your ankle, making you groan in pain but also incapable of moving. Bucky being the only person close to you, ran over and scrambled to get the broken pieces off and reaching his hand out. Surprised, you grabbed it and he helped you to your feet. Limping, Bucky offered and you put your arm around his neck, limping back to the jet. This was possibly the most physical contact Bucky had got since the 40's and it was his choice. Even Bucky was confused, but it didn't bother him...you didn't bother him for some reason.

Later that day, when you returned back to the compound, you were alone in the living room watching tv with an ice pack on your ankle. Bucky came strolling in, looking for food from the kitchen, he spotted you and silently made his way over, taking a seat an awkwardly long way away from you, still next to do, just with a weird gap. 

"hey... you ok?" you spoke gently.

"Yeah" Bucky replied.

"Thank you again for helping me" you smiled. 

"no problem...h-how is it" Bucky questioned looking art your ankle.

Lifting it off the table in front of you where it was resting, you lightly run your fingers over it,

"sprained badly and pretty bruised" Bucky hesitantly moved closer to you and reached out, before asking if it was ok for him to touch. Receiving a nod, James gently grabbed your ankle and rested in in his lap, running his human fingers over the skin inspecting it, and pulling a face at the dark bruising. Smiling you just looked at Bucky's face observing him. You were getting through to him you knew it, and he secretly knew it even if he didn't want to admit it.  

As time passed on, months later, Bucky let Y/N in, the waist touches were common, high fives replaced the after mission hugs and hands were placed on knees when one of them stood up, giving the person acceleration. But one thing that still never happened were hugs. 

One night, during one of Bucky and yours weekly movie nights together, you found herself falling asleep, eventually your head full upon James' shoulder. In shock, Bucky tensed but for some reason, you had a power over him, a power he couldn't fight no matter how hard he wanted too. He gently moved you, so your head was in his lap. When the movie was over, Bucky carried you to your room bridal style, you soundly asleep in his arms.

Days later, you were sick. Somehow catching a cold you lay in bed, sneezing and not being able to breath properly and feeling nauseous , resulting in no sleep. On the verge of tears, you called for Jarvis,

"Jarvis, whos in the med room right now?" you squeezed out breathlessly.

"Mr Barnes Mam" 

"Can you ask him to bring me some medicine and a glass of water too please...maybe a bowl as well" I pleaded.

10 minutes later, a light knocked at my door was heard and in came a concerned looking Bucky. He placed the bowl on the floor next to me in case of an emergency and I took my medicine. 

"c-call me if you need anything" James awkwardly smiled.

"Buck... please stay" You coughed out. Eyes going wide, Bucky took a seat at the end of your bed, fidgeting.

"i-i know you hate it, but can i please have a cuddle? Just for a few minutes..." I wearily asked. 

Bucky shifted and got under the covers, lifting his arm up so I could cuddle closer.

"I feel so ill Buck" I cried silently.

"Where?" He asked and i pointed to my stomach and head. Thinking for a second, Bucky placed his cold metal arm on y forehead cooling me down. Sighing into his chest, I began to relax. Hours had past and Bucky was still here, eventually we'd both fallen asleep. And that's where the final contact wall was broken. From that day on, Bucky came to Y/N whenever he was tired, stressed, anxious, whatever and they slept while cuddling. Bucky Barnes. The man who didn't let anyone shake his hand, clinging onto this woman like she was his lifeline which to him , she was. She saved him from his mind she saved him from being scared of affection...

and she was the woman he eventually called mine.

[blackspoon99]

The Empty Hearse Pt. 1

Sherlock x Female! Reader

TW: minor Violence, Mentions of suicide and mental illness, Spoilers if you haven’t seen season 3!

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

A/N: This is a reader insert of season 3 of BBC Sherlock. If you haven’t seen season 3, I would definitely skip this series because it wouldn’t make sense and there are definitely going to be some spoliers!

Saturday - 8:37 pm

“Take it outside! Not in my shop!” The café owner yelled while pulling John off Sherlock and into the street. John walked a few feet away, pacing and trying to control his anger. Mary sympathetically handed Sherlock some napkins. He leaned his head back and tried to get his nosebleed under control.

“I don’t understand. I’ve said I’m sorry, isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

Mary laughed to herself “Gosh, you don’t know anything about human nature, do you?”

“Hmmm Nature? No. Human? No.” He said with an ironic smile.

John walked back over to talk to Sherlock “I’m going to take Mary home. I’ve had enough of you for the night. Have you seen y/n?”

“Not yet. Do you think the fake mustache was too much? I’d bet y/n would like it.”

John scoffed to himself. “Oh god, Sherlock. What is it going to take for you to realize this isn’t a joke? Don’t you dare do whatever this was to y/n. She hasn’t been the same. You–” He paused and clenched his fists by his sides. Mary put a hand on his shoulder. “You- were not here Sherlock. You didn’t see what it was like. What she was like.” He closed his eyes and turned away. “No, I can’t do this. All I have to say Sherlock is be nice, be kind. For her.” John hailed down a cab while Mary stayed behind.

“I’ll talk him round.”

“You will?”

“Oh yeah,” She said with a smile before following John to the cab.

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Sunday - 10:16 am

The next morning, Sherlock slowly approached the apartment. He was most excited for your reaction. John was still furious with him, but he’d come around. Mary had promised. Sherlock liked her already. You would be over the moon when he came back into your life. Everything would go back to the way it was in time: you, John, and him. Together again in Baker Street.

He walked into the living room. He didn’t see you. Mycroft said you were to come here to pick up a book. He thought it was oddly fitting that your first meeting would be back in Baker Street. It didn’t seem like you were there. Perhaps Mycroft’s surveillance had gone downhill. Sherlock was about to leave when you emerged from John’s old bedroom, holding a book in one hand. You stared down at it, walking over to the bookcases by the fireplace. Sherlock anxiously waited for you to see him standing in the doorway. How happy you would be. He would finally see your face again, hold you in his arms. He’d have you back. You turned to leave and finally, you noticed him.

You let out a startled breath, but you didn’t even look surprised. You just looked sad. Sherlock was silent with anticipation as he waited for you to react. Your face was almost glazed over. Something was wrong. You suddenly dropped the book to the carpet. Sherlock watched as you turned away and with shaky hands, dialed a number on your mobile.

“H-hello? Michelle? I’m sorry to be calling, I know I stopped seeing you a few months ago… it’s just that I-I can see him again. I thought they’d stopped, but he’s back and you said I should call if I…”

His stomach dropped at the realization that you didn’t think he was really there. That’s why you didn’t seem surprised to see him. Sherlock watched as tears formed in your eyes as your voice quivered and stammered on the phone with your ex-therapist. John had said his so-called death had been hard on you, but he hadn’t expected this. You hesitantly looked over your shoulder at him before quickly turning your head back to your phone.

“No, he’s like he was when he was alive this time. It’s not like– you know– when I used to see him there on the pavement.”

Sherlock could feel his heart break a little as you cowered from him near the fireplace. His instincts were screaming at him to say something, to walk towards you, but he was paralyzed. Sherlock stood there for a moment until he realized you were wrapping up your call. He slowly and as quietly as possible backed out of the flat and down the stairs.

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You hung up the phone and slowly turned around. The image of Sherlock was gone from the door. You sighed in relief, leaned against the wall, and slid to the floor. You tried to take a deep breath, but you felt sick to your stomach. You tasted salt and became aware of the tears streaking down your cheeks. You were certain you were over this, that you were strong enough not to feel this way anymore, not to see him everywhere. Maybe it was too soon to come back to Baker Street. Then again, it had been 2 years.

Or maybe this is just the way it had to be from now on. You’d go about your business, feel your wounds begin to close but no matter how close you’d think you were getting to healing, no matter what you do, you’d always be just one moment away from falling apart all over again. You figured you should take your therapist’s advice and call John.

You went to pick up the book when you could have sworn you heard the creak of a floorboard on the stairs followed by the sound of the front door closing. Hallucinations don’t make noise. A hot flash ran through you. Your body moved before you could even think. You clambered over to the window, tripping over a loose pile of books. You flung open the dusty curtains and frantically looked out the window. You immediately scanned the crowd on the street below. Just down the block, you spotted a head of curly black hair and a long wool coat.

You snatched up your coat and ran down the stairs, not even bothering to put it on. You threw open the front door just in time to see him turn the corner. You started running, pushing past tourists and pedestrians. The cold air felt like it was burning through your lungs as you sprinted down the sidewalk. Tears were now steadily pouring from your eyes, blurring your vision. You finally rounded the corner and spotted him again.

“Sherlock Holmes!” You yelled, your voice strained and breaking. Sherlock turned around just as you reached him. Still unsure if it was just your mind tormenting you once again, you hesitantly reached for his hand. The moment your ice-cold hand felt a leather glove, a real hand, beneath its touch, you let out a choked gasp. The realization was quickly replaced with blind rage. Without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped him across the face as hard as you could. He barely flinched from the impact and looked at you with pure pain in his eyes.

“How could you!?” You screamed, tears uncontrollably pouring down your face. You threw half-hearted punches at his chest. He reached out and gently grabbed your forearms, trying to stop you.

“Y/n I’m so sorry”

“How could you?” You repeated over and over, fighting him. “How could you? How could you? How could you?” Eventually, the rage faded, and you leaned into him and just sobbed “I needed you” You said weakly.

“I know, y/n. I know. I’m so sorry” He said, wrapping his arms around your shivering body.

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A/N: Part 1 of god knows how many. This story will take us through season 3 and end with his last vow. Just getting back into writing and I will try my best to upload the parts semi regularly! 

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Fury of Their Scales

m.yoongi / reader

genre: dragon!au, wyvern!yoongi, human/herbalist!reader,

warning(s)!!: isolation/alienation, mentions of war, injuries/blood/violence, dragon boy yoongles is stuck in a trap bc he’s dumb, y/n is so sO pure, protective dragon yoonyoon, villagers physically bully y/n a lot :(, unfair situations, y/n takes so much shit like a champ she deserves an award, dragon boy is a dragon for the first half of this (sorry, not sorry), don’t be scared there's actual humor and wholesome stuff too :D, slow burn (kinda)?  

w.count: 17.7k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: T]

synopsis: a world of dragons, demons, devils, gods and ghouls- humans were of small number. you’ve lived on the outskirts of your human village in the woods ever since you could remember. living alone in a small cabin with nothing but woodland trees, ponds, lakes and animals was like a small paradise- with the occasional bump in the road. as someone who’s studied and experimented with nature to make all sorts of concoctions- your home was ideal. it didn’t matter that your village didn’t like it or that they rejected your life of medicine. what did matter, however, was the dragon stuck in a trap not too far from your home that you just discovered.

a/n: i literally haven’t sat down to write fanfiction in over a month bc my brain was fried and i got sucked balls deep into a fandom of an anime i dont even watch (yet). It took me three hours to edit this bc i pass tf out, pls be easy on me LOL

A shrill whine echoed through the woodland area. Bouncing off trees, echoing in caves, spooking off wildlife of rodents and critters that crept along the ground with far too many spindly legs.  Rustling in the wind, entangling with the leaves that blew and then erupting when a campfire crackled, settling in it’s burning pit of wood and stone.  

-x-x-x-

You shot awake in bed, the morning light peeking in through your bedroom window that was covered in a beginning to tear curtain.  You breathed out a heavy sigh as you flopped back down onto your mattress that squeaked at your movement.  You really should be getting a new bed sometime soon. This one was old and did nothing for your pressure points or back while you slept.  What was the point of a good night rest when you wake up feeling like you just wrestled a bear and lost? 

You looked at the small streaks of light that soaked into your wooden home as you closed your eyes, took a deep breath and opened them again before getting out of bed.  You threw your covers off, your nightdress coming down to your knees as you started to stretch.  Your arms reached above your head as you stifled a yawn. 

You could hear the birds outside and from the way the sun angled into the room through the drapes, you assumed it was still fairly early.  You hated that you could never seem to sleep until later into the morning, but you couldn’t help the fact that when you're up, you're up for the day unless you’re ill. 

Walking to your window, you drew open the curtains and immediately shut your eyes. Peeling them open slowly in a squint, the morning light was brilliant until you finally adjusted to the sudden light difference.  Letting the morning sun warm your room with sunspots, you started to change.  

Tossing away your nightdress, you changed into your everyday- not at all flattering- attire.  

A dress of a faded moss green skirt and a stretched, overly used leather corset around your waist that tucked around the white top half of your dress. Tying your hair back you slipped on some socks. 

Leaving your room, you immediately dashed to your fire place where a kettle of day old water hung from the single hook inside the top of the pit.  Striking a match, you ignited the wood that had not yet been completely burnt and noted to refill the kettle with fresh water later on- too lazy to do it right off the bat. 

You walked around your small, cabin home jumping place to place with small tasks or chores that took a mere few seconds to complete to start your day off waiting for your kettle to whistle with hot water.  When it finally did, you carefully took your kettle with a cloth wrapped around your hand and set it on your countertop. Grabbing a clay mug from your cupboard (that you made on your own to your pride), you dropped in a few leaves from a box of herbs you had and poured the steaming hot water over them.  

“Alright,” you assured yourself as you left your kettle to cool off again. After a handful of minutes, you took your mug and sat yourself at your small table that was made for two- but only occupied by yourself. You lifted open your window and let out a breathy sigh at the fresh air.  You placed a small plate of grain and food on the open window seal and soon enough, birds were flocking to it to grab something. 

“Good morning you guys,” you chuckled as you basked in the small moment of peace before the day ahead.  You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there in your spot of sunlight and birds with the occasional squirrel, but after the sun had shifted just enough to get you to notice, you deemed it long enough. 

Getting up, you set your mug into your sink and took the plate that was previously filled on the widow as you walked to your door.  Grabbing a white cloak to tie around your shoulders, a small gathering basket and placing a pair of worn down, brown boots on, you were leaving your home.  Grabbing the key that hung on a nail beside the door, you locked your cabin door behind you and placed the key around your neck. 

Taking a list from beneath the small cloth in your basket, you started reading aloud to none other than yourself.  You kept yourself company, that’s the only way you stayed somewhat entertained in your lonesome cabin. 

You lived on the outskirts of your village, having been born in this cabin and growing up in it even when your parents left you there as a child.  You found out quickly how to grow and live independently and by now it was just second nature.  Sure, you had your rough days of work and weather, but it was manageable.  At least you didn’t have neighbors that stressed you out- only the occasional bird, bat or squirrel that got stuck in your chimney that you had to chase out. 

“I need to find some goldenrod for sure,” you muttered.  “I’ll need to make sure not to grab yarrow in its place; although, I guess it wouldn’t be all that bad if I did.” Your knowledge and interest in medicine was also another reason why you never branched further into the village as a person.  All they did was ridicule you for not following the status quo. “I need honey too, but I’d have to go to the village for that unless some merchant runs into me while I’m out.” You sighed, “I doubt it. I’m never that lucky.” 

You started your way off, passing by the small well in your front yard and bypassing the small station of firewood you had yet to cut and move.  A pile of logs sat sliced into thirds under a tarp beside your front door. The hardest part of your life was building the muscle and stamina to cut your own firewood, not to mention swinging and actually hitting the wood with your axe instead of magnificently missing it and getting the blade stuck in the stump you used to chop on. 

As you walked away from your cabin, the trees becoming thicker as you followed the dirt trail further into the woods, you started looking around.  Scanning for any signs of any herb that you may want to snag along the search for the days main goal: goldenrod.  You started off the path and began walking between trees and away from small holes from rabbits and moles so you don’t jeopardize your ankles and fall. 

You were searching for a while as you were knelt into the grass, scanning leaves and flower petals to identify what was what when you thought you heard something.  From somewhere beyond the trees, past the wall of foliage, you though you heard a sort of... whining? Or maybe howl?  

A sense of deja-vu washed over you. Had you heard this whining somewhere before? Was it a wolf cub or maybe a bear? No, it sounded too rough to be either of those.  A cry echoed after a moment of silence and then the whines from before returned shortly after.  

A part of you wanted to forget about it and leave the area immediately.  Something about the way it seemed to bend and mold the air around you with it’s unfamiliar cry made your skin crawl.  However, the bigger part of your heart that knew that the cries you were hearing were cries for help made you think otherwise.  

Rising to your feet, you tucked your basket to your side closer in a pitiful sense of self-comfort as you made your way towards the cries. The trees became less dense and soon you were approaching a small opening.  You could hear the sounds of metal clanking together along with the loud cries and whines.  Perhaps an animal had gotten snagged in a trap?  If that were the case, you wondered if you should free it or not. 

Although you felt bad for the animals in the moment, you knew that they were someone else's food source or something important to help somehow; whether it be a pelt for warmth or their claws for weaponry. You had no right to free an animal that wasn’t your prey- so you decided that if it was an animal you’d leave no matter how much your heart ached.  

When you could see the clearing ahead, you slowed your footsteps and slowly crept up behind a tree to peer around it.  As you did so, your breath caught in your throat as you gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from choking and making a sound.  You spun around, nearly dropping your basket from your arm as you hid behind the tree you had peered around and pressed your back firmly to it’s trunk. 

Your breath shuttered, shook, halted and repeated.  You couldn’t remember how to breathe properly as you tried to be as quiet as possible.  Around that tree trunk and indeed caught in a metal trap was no animal. 

It was a dragon. 

You racked your brain trying to be reasonable.  Perhaps it was just a trick of the mind? A hallucination? Maybe the leaves you boiled earlier that morning were hallucinogenic and you were simply too careless about what you were brewing in your morning daze? 

You peered one more time around the tree trunk to verify and your entire body ceased up again at the same dragon from the first time you saw it.  You didn’t hide immediately this time.  You stayed hidden, tucked away but examined the situation the best you could; even if every orifice of your body was telling you to run. 

You weren’t too well versed on the dragon race, but this particular dragon you had read about before in a book once- but only briefly.  A wyvern you think it was called. 

The creature was large, as tall as the trees- one not quiet fully grown yet you imagined. Or maybe it was because the creature was folded in on itself, crouched to the ground as it tugged on it’s trapped legs- so it appeared smaller en masse. 

A large bear trap had sunk it’s sharp metal teeth into the scaled leg of the mighty creature.  With nowhere near enough space to try and fly away- trap attached or not- and no room to try and back away, shake it off or even break the chain that held the trap in place, the dragon was ultimately stuck in whining pain. 

It’s scales were that of ashen red; the color of a fine blush, but rough to the texture like brick. It’s arms were large and folded inwards, the talons of one digging into the earth to steady itself and the other crawling at the trap futility. It’s long tail was curled around it’s back and the length of it disappeared behind the tree line where you suspected it was barbed at the end.  It’s head was long, thin and had three horns- one on the end of its nose and two on either side of it’s head. 

Needless to say, it was a wonder to witness.  A dangerous wonder, but a wonder no less. 

Dragons were a very rare sight around human territory.  They hated the human race and for reasons that you couldn’t blame them for.  Years ago, you had read about a war- if you could call it that- that took place between human and dragon.  

The humans in their invincible high from all sorts of discoveries and conquering of other places had decided to set their sights on the dragons.  If they could tame the mighty beasts of the skies and elements and use them as war creatures- the people would reign over all. That’s what they had assumed. 

They had no idea just what they had signed themselves up for when they marched into Dragon Country. The doom that took place was instantaneous for the first brave and foolish group of marchers and it only got worse.

A group of nearly 400 men were slaughtered at the hands of just a few dragons who were the first to be approached as mere animals.  Burned alive, crushed, eaten, slashed into ribbons- the humans stood no chance in hell. 

Then, the dragon’s returned the favor.  If the humans wanted war, so be it.  The dragon race was smart, far smarter than the average genius human being.  With magic on their side along with their mighty strength and numbers, they took to the Humanlands and burned it to the ground. 

This pathetic war lasted no longer than a week and nearly one-third of the human population was blown away from the very beasts they had wanted to tame and use.  

The two had long since left each other alone, no one wanting to repeat the past.  Humans fear dragons due to the stories- that was unavoidable. However, dragons live long and hate even longer.  They can hold a grudge longer than that of a devil or demon.  

That is what shook you to your core as you gazed at this one single dragon caught in the woods of the Humanslands. Why was it so far from Dragon Country? Had it wandered here because of boredom? Perhaps it was banished by the king of dragons you had known about.  Or maybe this dragon was just foolish. You weren’t sure and you less sure if you’d stick around long to find out. 

The creature was a terror and the snarls and whines and cries that came from it were something that would surely haunt you in the middle of the night when you hear the wind howl. Regardless of that however, you felt pity for this dragon.  

As of the moment, it had hurt no one and you had heard no word of any dragon attacks.  It was just stuck, injured and helpless.  Before you could muster up the conscience to quietly leave, you stepped forwards just an inch and knocked a small rock from its place on a tree root.  

The dragon’s head whipped up, it’s sensitive nose finally catching a whiff of a different scent that wasn’t of Woodland descent now that it wasn’t as preoccupied with the stupid bear trap. 

It’s black coal eyes narrowed as it’s mouth opened to show its rows of white fangs that could easily devour you. A violent shiver ran through your entire body as your eyes connected with its own.  You were discovered and there was no going back down. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat felt like a massive stone was lodged inside. You took a few more shaky steps forward, showing your entire body to the beast.  It’s winged arms lifted in defensive as it’s head lowered; it’s chin becoming level with the ground and still growling.  You could see plumes of steam coming from its mouth due to it’s hot breath. 

It was clear this particular creature wanted nothing to do with you- a human- and you couldn’t blame it.  You didn’t want to be here either. This situation could end with you getting killed, but your morality and ability to sympathize with the weak or injured was larger than the risk of your safety. 

Lifting your arms to show you had nothing on you, you started to enter the small clearing.  

“Easy,” you hushed softly as the dragon snapped it’s jaw just one time in warning. You gulped again, daring to take another stupid and foolish step. “I want to help,” you said.  Earning another growl in response didn’t shock you. 

It took several minutes, a handful of snaps to stay away, constant growls and steam filled breaths for you to even get within arms reach of the trap.  You were sure that if you made one wrong move the creature would bite you in half- but you had to take a chance.  

You think the dragon knew this too.  You were the closest thing to an escape it would probably find that wasn’t going to go and tell other humans to capture or kill it. It would cooperate until it was free, you were sure of that- but after? You could only imagine. 

It’s winged arms were around you, shading you from the sunlight that the tree’s didn’t cover as your fingers brushed the cool metal of the trap. As you eyed it you wondered why someone would make such a large trap in the first place.  It seemed far too large and frankly a bit overkill for a just a bear trap.  

You look over your shoulder to see the head of the dragon that was the size of your body staring down at you just above your head. You swallowed for the nth time that morning in nervousness. 

“I’m going to try and release it,” you say. “It’s going to hurt.” 

You carefully pulled the sleeves of your dress up as you curled your fingers around the thick metal teeth.  The scales of the dragon were broken and destroyed as the trap dug into it’s reptilian-like skin. 

Blood had already begun to stain the metal. The trap’s teeth were warm- warmer than the rest of the trap due to the dragon's blood being so much hotter than an average animal or human.  It’s hot, like steamed bathwater, and it steamed the metal to warm your hands almost uncomfortably. 

You took a breath before you started to pull your arms away, fingers aching from pulling on the teeth to try and open the trap.  You had been thankful in the moment that you did indeed chop your own firewood because it built up some bit of muscle in the grand scheme of things.  The trap began to give and slowly creaked open bit by bit.  The dragon’s coal black eyes widened a fraction as it started to wriggle it’s leg. 

“Stop moving,” you hissed instinctively. If it thrashed too much, you could loose your grip and then it would just clamp down on it’s leg again. With a whining and grunting mixture of sounds, you soon pried it open enough to where you were almost certain the creature could free itself.  “Okay,” you huffed in endurance as you held it open, “move!” 

The dragon was quick to rip it’s leg out of the trap and send it, and you, off the ground.  The rapid motion tore you away from the trap, the metal scratching your fingers as you fell to your ass and then onto your back in the dirt as the trap snapped shut again away from you.  It fell to the Woodland floors empty and bloody as you hissed on your back. 

You pain and breathlessness were soon replaced by fear and anxiety when you felt the dragon you had just freed hover over you.  It’s taloned, long, winged arms were on other side of your body and it’s hind legs- one of them being the proffered injured one that still bled over it’s brick colored scales- were perched like it was ready to pounce.  

It’s nostrils were hovering above your chin as it’s eyes bore dangerously into your own.  

This was it.  You were going to die, you were almost certain of it now.  

The dragon huffed as it opened its mouth.  Small licks of fire fanned across it’s tongue in the dark cavern of it’s fang lined mouth and steam pushed from it’s nostrils like a chimney that hadn’t been opened to let out the smoke of the fire in it’s hearth.  

You were petrified, frozen in fear and weren’t even capable of breathing.  All of your senses were focused on the threat of death inches away from you and you knew that no one would know that you died.  No one would find it odd that you weren’t in the village like you were every few weeks or so. They wouldn't find it strange that your cabin was abandoned. And you were certain that they would not conduct a search for you- you didn’t matter to them in the long run. 

You were going to die and you were going to do so alone and your body would stay alone until the earth reclaimed it in it’s soil. 

The dragon only then opened its mouth further, roared into your face and then sprung off you.  It plunged into the tree line, knocking down and busting through the trees and tearing up the soil beneath its claws and talons as it escaped. Running from you and leaving you alive. 

“What,” you breathed as you soon let out a strong, almost painful, burst of air that had been held and contained in your chest.  Your heart beat strong like it would burst straight from your chest into the sky.  You weren’t sure how long you lay in the dirt just trying to regain control of your body that had been previously paralyzed. 

When you did manage to pick yourself up- albeit pathetically- you grabbed your discarded basket once again and rushed home.  

“No more outside,” you declared to yourself in the clearing of trees and the one bloody trap left behind. 

-x-x-x-

Despite the events of the day behind you, once your heart calmed itself and you were able to finally rationally think again instead of assuming you were at death’s door, your mind would flutter back to the dragon and it’s injury. 

As you carried in buckets of water from your well or logs of wood for your fireplace, you worried.  You felt silly worrying over such a mighty and strong being, but you couldn't stop that cloud from covering your mind. You wondered how it was doing or if it made its way out of the Woodlands- only briefly thinking about the damaged and torn or uprooted trees in its wake. 

You went to bed that night far earlier than usual. The blanket of black had not yet completely enveloped the sky of deep orange and red.  However, maybe the early bedtime hadn’t been a bad idea, considering you were awoken in the middle of the night anyway. 

It was a small noise in the distance.  A sound like the padding of paws of a dog running on wood or horse clops on cobblestone.  Small and forgettable, but almost irritating and grinding on the nerves of the listener.  

Crawling out of bed almost at zero energy levels from your previous encounters, you shook your head to try and shake the sleepiness away. Trudging to your door, you cracked it open to try and see if it was some foxes scraping in the glory of midnight or maybe some critter getting into trouble. Instead, when your door opened, the sounds of an eerily familiar growl filtered through the air. 

All tiredness from before flew away as you shut the door harshly and grabbed your cloak to throw over your nightdress. You rushed to your table to grab your glass covered lantern and lit it before blowing out the match and tossing it. Going back to your door you threw it open again and ran out of it.  You didn’t even bother locking it, the key still hanging on it’s key as it flopped against the wall from the air of the forcefully shut door.  

You ran through the woods, trying your best not to trip on any rocks or sticks. You let out an occasional wince from your bare feet scraping too hard on the dirt or catching on the rough end of a stone. You were going down hill when you saw in the shadows a series of trees uprooted or knocked in two with claw marks on the trunks.  

You tried skidding to a stop when the hill started to level out steadily, but there was a fat chance of that happening.  You threw open your arms and snagged a tree trunk to forcefully stop yourself from going further.  Your legs flew out in front of you far too dramatically for a spontaneous run in the woodlands at midnight as your lantern nearly flew out of your grasp.  

You huffed as you heard the same growls you had heard before echo around you.  You could hardly see, but you could tell the outline of the dragon in the darkness.  You looked around as your lantern had lost it’s flame.  

You dug in the pocket you had sewn into your nightdress and struck another match, lighting it again as the fire dimly lit up your face.  You were now fully aware you were seen- even though you knew it already to begin with.  

The dragon had previously been nipping and lapping at it’s wound with it’s split tongue before you had interrupted it’s silence.

“I knew it,” you whispered as you saw the same dragon from before.  You slowly approached it, somehow feeling a little more confident than earlier even though it still growled at you.  “Hey,” you soothe, “you know me. Just let me see,” you said as you walked around it’s curled body to it’s injured leg.  Lifting your lantern up to see better, you weren’t shocked to see the scales still wet with troves of blood.  Just how much blood did dragons have? 

If a human bled this much for this long, you were sure they’d be long dead by now. 

You carefully set your lantern aside and worked around your neck to remove your white cloak from your shoulders. “Hold still,” you instructed as you started to rather sloppily wrap the wound. You couldn’t let it just keep bleeding and it wasn’t like you had anything else to try and wrap it in- you’d just have to sew a new cloak or buy a new one in the village. 

You didn’t even take the time to be shocked that the dragon once again let you do as you pleased in aiding it’s unfortunate situation. In fact, it was silent.  There was no growling or snarling, just the sound of hissing when you brushed against the wound or wrapped your cloak around it too tight. 

When you finished, you almost pouted at the sight of your cloak already starting to dot with the dragon’s hot blood seeping through the fabric.  A loss, yes, but you felt like it was worth it from the relief you felt in your chest at the dragon’s ease of tension. 

“If you stay put,” you started, grabbing your lantern again and looking up at the dark eyes of the dragon you were becoming almost familiar with, “I can come back in the morning with something to help you.” The dragon showed no sign of obeying or denying you and you weren’t going to stick around and press the issue.  

At the end of the day, it could still very well tear you apart. 

You soon left the dragon’s side, the fire of your lantern lighting your way back home. You’d come back just as you said you would and if the dragon was still there, then you’d try and help further so that it can eventually go back home.  Even you knew that it had a home somewhere and you were sure that home was missed to some degree. 

When you returned to your cabin, you breathed a small sigh of relief when you saw that in your haste of not locking your door behind you- no nightcrawler had snuck in and wrecked your home or stole anything.  You walked inside, shutting and tightly locking up behind you as you set your lantern on your table.  

Wincing at your sore feet, you wrapped them in cloth and a paste of herbs you had in a jar to help soothe aches and pain before you tucked yourself back into bed. Hopefully, you could stay asleep until the sun rises this time. 

-x-x-x-

You were pleased to see that when you opened your eyes again, you could hear the birds and see the sunlight of what looked like late morning.  At least you managed to get some decent sleep- although you weren’t all too surprised looking back on the last 24 hours.  A lot had happened and to say it was taxing was an understatement. 

You were slow moving this morning; another thing you weren’t shocked about.  

Trudging around your cabin, you walked around in your nightdress gathering small jars of salves and ointments that could be useful to the dragon in the woods that may or may not still be there with your- no doubt- beyond salvaging cloak. 

When you finally got changed, you threw on a dress of a fairly unflattering shade of brown since you may be kneeling on the ground or thrown into the dirt again from the dragon. You wrapped up a new layer of paste for your still sore feet before pulling them into your boots. You grabbed your basket with your half-hazardly thrown together first aid treatments and left your cabin- actually locking the door this time. 

It was all a blur on what direction you rushed to last night in your sleepy, adrenaline pumped haze, but you were able to clearly see where your footsteps pressed into the soil. Following your own trail, you carefully descended the hill you flew down the night before and when it all leveled out, you smiled at seeing the dragon sleeping peacefully in the same spot you left it.  

“Good,” you breathed happily.  You were glad it stayed put- whether it was because you asked or not didn’t matter.  You would be able to help more now and nothing filled your chest with more glee than being of use to someone, or rather something in this way.  Healing was your passion after all. 

You slowly padded up to the sleeping dragon and decided against working on it while it slept.  It could spring to life and attack you out of instinct for all you knew. You sat a good distance from its body and in view of it’s line sight for when it woke up you wouldn’t be hidden. You sat on the ground, you're back against the trunk of a tree as you started digging around your basket for the folded and wrapped up herbs you had. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat in the tree shaded morning sun plucking, grinding and mixing different herbs together in a cloth draw pouched you had with you. Eventually you started to hear groans from the dragon ahead of you.  You figured that if the first thing the creature sees when waking up was you staring at it, then you’d push away any future idea of treating its leg. So, you kept yourself occupied with your herbs until it made a noise of awareness. 

A handful of minutes pass when you feel a warm wind push towards you. Instinctively, you look up to see the dragon’s dark eyes looking at you. You smile at the mighty beast, the polar opposite of yesterday’s fear stricken paralysis. 

You finished grinding a handful of mint smelling herbs between your palms to sprinkle into an oil you had with you as you swashed it around in it’s cork plugged jar.  It was odd, doing your everyday tasks with a dragon for an audience.  

When you finished, you stood up after placing the jar back under the cloth of your basket and brushed off your dress’s skirt.  You fumbled around to grab the small oval container of salve before you started to approach the dragon. 

It didn’t growl and it didn’t snarl.  It extended it’s winged arms as it’s head dropped to the ground and it’s leg that was wound with your cloak that was now a deep shade of red was pushed out further for you to inspect.  You didn’t want to let it get to your head that maybe, just maybe, this dragon was learning to trust you. 

You knew that dragon’s had to have good instincts, so maybe it just realized that you weren’t a threat. 

You carefully unwound your awfully tied cloak as you tossed it to the ground in a heap. You were glad to see that the hot blood that had been continuously seeping through brick red scales had finally stopped.  You twisted open the container and began to smear the salve over and between the thick scales to the broken skin beneath. 

You had expected them to be cooler to the touch like a lizard’s skin, but the scales and skin of the beast was warm like a freshly doused warm towel. 

The dragon let you work in peace as it watched you without disruptions or growls.  It didn’t even twitch if you touched a particularly pain-sensitive area. 

When you finished, you placed the cap back over the salve and looked up at the dragon to address it. “The bleeding looks to be done, but we should cover it with something.” You looked down at your soiled cloak. “We can’t reuse that, it’s already used and we can’t put dried blood back on a wound.” You started to walk away to your basket to place the salve back and maybe take your cloth in your basket to try and at least tuck it into it’s scales or something when something snagged your dress skirt. 

Yelping, you spun around and took a moment to process that the dragon had moved it’s winged talon to step on your dress to keep you from moving.  Looking up to its face, you saw it looked at you with a calm expression flitting through its eyes and it shook its head.  

“What?” You asked more to yourself than the dragon.  “You don’t want it to be wrapped?” The dragon only moved it’s head back to look at it’s leg before lifting it’s arm back up and freeing you.  You trotted back to the dragon’s leg and squinted at it like he was trying to tell you to. 

You gasped at seeing how the wound already looked way better than it had just twenty minutes ago.  You saw the damaged scales start to repair themselves as the skin below it’s scaled armor pulled itself back together and became covered again. You looked back to the dragon’s face, relief evident in your expression as you breathed out a sigh of happiness with a hand on your chest like a weight had been lifted off you. 

“Oh, thank goodness. I’m glad that the rumors of a dragon’s healing potential are true at least.” You went back to your basket, dropping the container of salve inside as you lifted it back into your arms. “I’m going to be on my way then,” you said. You felt a little bad for leaving so soon, but you had hardly gotten anything down yesterday because of your meeting with the beast, so you were already behind on your own personal tasks.  

You still needed to find some goldenrod and if you were honest, plucking some stuff to replace the amount of salve you used on the dragon’s leg wouldn’t be so bad either.  

As you left into the thick Woodland, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.  You peered over your shoulder several times and from somewhere you could almost tell that the dragon was watching you from beyond the trees.  Dragons had eyesight far stronger than human eyes, so when you felt a stare on your back, you didn’t doubt it. 

It was obvious that it couldn’t travel through the Woodlands like you could without plowing down trees in its wake and it wasn’t exactly spacious enough to spread its wings and take off in this section of the woods. 

When you left a location you could feel the eyes following you and even heard stomping in the distance of the dragon moving so it could keep you in it’s sights.  You wondered briefly why it would be following you around if not for it wanting to eat you, but you just shrugged it off.  

It was just past midday when you had finally started to depart back to your cabin. As you unloaded your basket inside your cabin and began to put everything away, you went back outside to gather a bucket of water from your well and you nearly jumped out of your skin from the sounds rustling behind your home. 

If the glimpse of horns and wings was anything to go by, you knew that the dragon had somehow squeezed around the trees and followed you back to your cabin. Even closer to human territory.  You crept around the cabin and met the dragon face to face for yet another time as you just smiled at it. It seemed relaxed and at ease to your surprise. 

“Are you going to follow me around now?” You playfully asked as all it did was let out a small huff.  “I know you can understand me,” you teased as you looked it up and down.  You felt bad mentally referred to it as ‘it’ all this time, but you had no idea how to tell what this wyvern was.  “If you’re going to follow me around girl-” your sentence was stopped short at a small growl.  You perched your brow up at the dragon as it glared down at you. “Boy?” You corrected as the unpleasant look left his eyes.  

You ticked your head a bit, nodding to yourself.  

“Okay, that settles that.” 

Throughout your day, you had the company of a dragon sitting in your yard watching you work. When you were inside, you kept the front door propped open with a piece of wood at the bottom and the windows were open so the dragon could still see you and you could still talk to him. 

You rambled- a lot.  It felt silly to be having a one-sided conversation with a dragon, but you couldn’t help it.  You didn’t want him to feel left out- as odd as it was to say in terms of the beast- so you talked about a lot of things.  Your hobbies, the process of making an ointment or what herbs to crush and mix with something to get the smell of berries.  How you cooked and what it was; you even offered him a loaf of bread; he denied it (which you were glad for because that would have been an expensive sacrifice). 

“I actually live here alone,” you speak aloud from the inside of your house so he could hear you through the open window his head rested next to on the ground outside.  “I’ve lived here all my life practicing medicine and plants. I take care of myself decently well considering I live in the Woodlands.” You paused, mixing some broth with a pot of steamed vegetables and spices you had been boiling. “My village doesn’t exactly like me or my studies all that much, so my life here works out in the long run.”

You wondered if he found your babbling annoying since he was just stuck listening to you ramble on about whatever came to mind to keep him somewhat entertained. Spilling your life story wasn’t a thrilling tale, but it was a silence filler. You figured he didn’t mind as much as you may think since he stuck around.  

When the day was ending, he made a sound of disgruntled groaning that wasn’t exactly a growl, but a sound of attention. He was apparently announcing his departure.  You waved the dragon off through the open window as he left back into the Woodlands and you assumed that this would be the final time you met him. 

You would be wrong. 

Because that following day as the sun was high at just past midday, there he was again. Steadily, he was visiting you often and he became a normal part of your life.  

-x-x-x- 

“Hey, Suga,” you called when the dragon came into view from your window as you read in the morning light.  You had started calling him by the name weeks ago when you caught him sniffing through your window at whatever you were baking at the time and accidentally sucked a bag of sugar up his nostril.  You would have called him Sugar, but he just growled at the soft sounding name, so removing the R was the best deal you could cut him.  He didn’t indicate what his name actually was, but you couldn’t just keep calling him ‘dragon’ or ‘wyvern’.  

You had some decency. 

You shut your book, setting it in the open window as you got up and made your way out.  The leg that had been injured weeks ago had healed like it wasn’t hurt in the first place.  No scar left behind and no scale left tarnished- it pleased you in all honesty. 

Walking to him, he lowered his head to the ground with a small sigh through his nostrils as you brought you hand to run along the scales of his nose and head.  It was like having a giant lizard fawn over your touch- or rather that was exactly what it was. 

“Good morning, I haven’t seen you in a few days. Did you have a safe trip?” You asked as he just let out a small swooned dragon sound.  You had gotten good at deciphering what his sounds and noises meant to a certain degree.  

You had noted that every so often he would disappear for days on end and then return- be it a few days to a week or more later.  He would travel to Dragon Country and then return to check and visit with you, or so you highly assumed. You knew that was his country and his home, so it was no shock to you that he went back. The shock was that he kept coming back to your cabin in the Woodlands. 

You had read dragons were loyal, but this was astonishing.  If regular visits with a mighty dragon was your reward for treating and freeing him from a trap, you had no regrets in doing so.  

You stopped your ministrations on his head as you turned to go check off whatever chore you had left to do this morning off your to-do list when you felt his nose push into your back.  Shoving you playfully forwards, you stumbled on your feet as you turned around with a playful smile and lifted brows. 

“Oh you wanna play that way, huh?” You riled as he just huffed steam into your face.  Your hair and dress whipped behind you as you just scoffed and jumped at him.  The dragon shot to it’s legs and winged talons, skillfully dodging your puny, human lunges.  

When you snagged your foot on your dress skirt and was ready to take a tumbling, ungraceful fall to eat dirt, his nose shot under you and caught you before you even made it close to the ground.  Hooking your wasit with his horn, he nudged you back up to your feet as you just laughed at him and stroked his nose once again in gleeful thanks.  

Suga almost purred- if dragon’s could ever.

As you spent your day with your companion, the sky started to tell you that night was coming and Suga’s departure once again was near.  You were out in the yard, sitting on the grass with your basket beside you and all sorts of herbs, a grinding stone and jars and jugs to mix and create with.  Suga lay behind you, curled around you like a protective wall, lazing away silently, but not sleeping.  Just relaxed.  

“Will you be back tomorrow?” You asked as you sprinkled some flower petals into a bottle of clear oil. He whined- a signal for no.  “Going back to Dragon Country already, huh?” He huffed in agreeance as you chuckled.  He sounded so sulky.  “Will you be gone for a while this time?” He made no noise, but his head moved to affirm a yes.  Another handful of quiet, dragonless days were in your future it seemed. “Well, be safe on your way. Watch out for traps,” you teased as he moved his body back just a bit for you to teeter backward from where you were leaning against him. 

When he left you that night, his nose pressed against your torso as your arms wrapped around it in farewell.  He had only started doing that recently- after his last trip back to Dragon Country in fact.  

You always felt a little bit colder when he left you like that. 

Four days passed and on the morning of the fifth, you had walked out of your house early in the morning with a freshly sown cloak of brick red and an empty basket.  You dreaded going into the village for a great many reasons.  But you simply couldn’t push it off any further and you needed things that only the merchants and shops in town would have.  

It helped that when strangers would come into the woodlands and see your house, they would almost always knock on your door from curiosity and you’d always take any chance to sell something of your creation for a decent amount.  

Locking your cabin door, you started your trip. You sighed. Hopefully, you’d be able to get into town and then get out just as quickly. 

Suga had returned that day as he approached your cabin.  He heard nothing inside and saw no sign of you around.  Peering into our windows, you weren’t inside from what he could tell and he pouted at not seeing you.  He lay at the side of your cabin, his head lay by your front door as he waited for you to come back.  

A few hours passed and his ears picked up on the sound of your footsteps- he had familiarized himself with the sound and weight you put into your steps- as his eyes opened ready to greet you.  However, a growl slipped past his fangs as he saw you come from the dirt trail between the trees that lead further out of the Woodlands. 

You were shocked to see him back so soon as you wiped some sweat off your brow.  Sweat that was mixed with dirt and the smallest dried patch of blood. 

You had forgotten that Suga had never seen you go into and back from your village before, so the growl pulled from his throat made you shiver.  Your forehead had a small cut about the length of your knuckle and your lip had a split in it.  Your dress had grass strains in the knees and up the side of it as specks of dirt spotted your face and neck. 

You walked to your door, setting your basket down with a cloth over it, the items you had gotten covered as you walked to Suga and placed your hand on the horn at the end of his scaled nose.  

“What is it?” You ask, oblivious that it was your current state of disarray that made him fume with unease. He pulled his horn from your palm as he moved to nuzzle his nose into your torso. You stretched your arm to stroke under his eye as you soothed him.  “Suga?” It wasn’t until he refused to move that you realized he was wondering if you were well and then you realized. “Oh,” you breathed, “I’m alright.” 

He finally moved away from you and stared at you.  You moved to pat his horn once before your fingers went under his scaled chin to lazily rub there.  He almost hummed at the actions as you smiled with your split lip.  

“This happens every time I go down to the village. Don’t worry too much, Scaly Hide.” As you soothed him, you weren’t completely aware of just how your injures made his dragon blood boil hotter than usual.  You had been nothing but kind and vulnerable and truthful to him- a dragon- for no other reason than that’s just who you were as a person.  Seeing you all cut up because of others? He found it absolutely preposterous. 

As you rubbed beneath his chin, you started talking again.  Your voice taking on a small wave of emotion he hadn’t heard from you before. 

“I’m almost jealous of you,” you told him.  His barbed tail twitched at your words. “I don’t know what the world of dragons is like, so I can’t say whether or not you understand the scorn of others. The prospect of you not having to deal with other humans though is one to be envious of.” Your eyes had a far off look of sadness that riddled his scaled body with pain. 

He pulled his head from your hand and moved to nudge it behind you. He pushed your body against the giant wall of scales that is his own body as you started laughing at him.  It wasn’t hard to understand an awkward attempt of a dragon wanting to console you. You raised your arms, reaching around what you could as you hugged his neck while his head stayed pushed against your back over your shoulder.  

Suga didn’t understand how humans could do this to others of the same race.  Dragon’s weren’t just comrades in arms in battle, but they were kin.  They were branches of family, dear friends and reliant to each other in a way that didn’t just revolve around war and destruction. Of course, his race wasn’t perfect either with the occasional rouge or traitorous dragon, but those specific turncoats were always taken care of. 

He couldn’t understand why humans hurt you, and he didn’t want to understand why. He just wanted it to stop. 

When you finally stepped away from him and got back into his line of sight in front of him the look on your face made him feel better.  It looked like you were already recovering from all the bad emotions that plagued you earlier.  He blew a small huff of steam into your face playfully as you swatted at his horn. 

“I’ve been curious,” you started, “I read once that dragons have large quantities of magic and even have a second form they can change into.  A human form that is different with each species.  Do you have one?” His chin dipped as he let out a noise of confirmation.  He did have one, though it had been years, maybe even centuries since he last changed into it. He didn’t even remember what it looked like anymore- he had forgotten about it truthfully.  

Your eyes light up in excitement at the discovery.  

“You do! That’s so cool!” Your over-excitement almost startled the poor beast. You let out a small sigh of contentment as you turned back to head inside and put your things away and to wash off the grime of your injuries.  “I kind of want to see what it looks like,” you mutter, unable to realize that your thoughts slipped out in the form of words that were just loud enough for the dragon to hear. 

Suga was quiet as he stood guard outside your home for the rest of the afternoon. The only time you left was when you went down to the small lake nearby and washed up. He was a distance away to keep anything or anyone else from intruding on your privacy.  He seemed tense, but also not- even if it didn’t make sense.  You tried asking him what was wrong with him, but he just nuzzled his head into your chest without a sound.  

When you told him goodnight he left in the same silence he had been sitting in all day.  It took a little longer for you to go to sleep because of your worry. 

The next morning, you woke up and did what you always did.  Same old routine with the label of a different day. Though, when you left your home to go and grab a few pieces of cut up wood for your fireplace, you stopped short.  Outside your door, sleeping against the side of your house on the ground was a man. 

You hadn’t seen this man before in your life and you were shocked speechless as you looked him over.  He was dressed oddly, far different than the men in your village dressed. 

His body was lean and covered in small scars around his chest, as shown from the absences of a shirt.  A long, black cape hung at his back that he used to lounge on instead of the hard, dirt ground as the collar of it was covered in fur that covered his shoulders and brushed against his chin.  His pants were brown and baggy that wrapped around his ankles and displayed his bare feet that were no doubt covered in calluses.  Red gauntlets ran from his wrists to his elbows on both arms that were crossed against his bare chest.  

You were hesitant to wake him up, but this was your cabin and it was early in the morning.  If Suga came by to see another man here, he could get defensive and that was a scenario you really didn’t want to witness. 

You knelt at his side, the door to your cabin still open behind you just in case he was hostile and you had to retreat back inside in a rush.  You reached out and grabbed his shoulder- his skin was hot. You shook him once- nothing.  

“Excuse me?” You squeaked as you shook him again.  He groaned as his head nodded off to the side before his chin dipped and you saw his brows moving underneath the fridge of his black hair. You retracted your hand when you felt his shoulders move up and heard him take in a breath of awakening.  “Sir, are you alright?” 

Lifting his head, his eye were narrow and dazed in sleep as he looked up at you. They were beautiful.  They were dark, black and shining like obsidian jewels.  They were... familiar? You squinted at him as he opened his mouth. 

“Oh,” he lazily breathed out. His voice felt like a breeze of summer wind. “You finally woke up,” he told you as you just started inquisitively at him.  

“Isn’t that my line,” you quipped back.  “Do I,” you hesitated, “have we met before?” He didn’t answer you as he just sat up straighter and raised his hand to your face.  His warm hand ran along your jaw to your lip where he pushed against the scabbed over split in it.  You flinched away from his touch as you backed away from him, your eyes locked onto his without any will power to break the contact. 

“You said you wanted to see what my human form was like,” he point forwardly told you.  You looked him over one more time before returning to his eyes.  So that’s why they looked so familiar. 

“Suga?” You asked with a pitched voice.  

“My name is actually, Yoongi,” he smirked as an unfamiliar heat rose in your cheeks.  

-x-x-x-

Yoongi’s visits continued and he often stayed in his human form around you now. He would waltz into your home with you and even started helping you with chores around the cabin.  He’s taken to splitting your firewood (although he wouldn’t use your hatchet, he’d just rip the logs in half), and would carry things for you when you were moving to and fro. He’d watch you cook and learn if you offered to teach him something. 

You had to admit that having him walking and working around with you as a human instead of a wyvern was a lot more convenient. Plus, this way he was able to have actual conversations with you.  

The season’s started to change and the cool breath of autumn began to creep into the air. You would often wonder if Yoongi would stop coming to visit when the temperature drops.  

“Yoongi?” You called as he sat in the middle of your floor in front of the burning fire.  It was late in the afternoon as you were cooped up inside away from the chilly air.  He turned to look over his shoulder at you over his fur lined cape collar.  

“Hmm?” 

“When winter comes, will you still visit me?” You asked as you took a drink from your warm tea before setting it back down on the table with the book you had been reading before.  “I mean, you’re still technically a reptile in basic regards, so you must not like the cold that much.” 

“It’s true that I don't like the cold,” he said, “I hate it.  It makes my scales rough and then that makes it tough to move around.” You let out a small, nearly silent sigh.  “However, if you get lonely, I’ll still come see you.” You looked back at him as he was staring at you completely serious.  

The conversation died after that, you not having the heart to ask him to keep visiting. You couldn’t ask that of him if he disliked the cold that much.  Surely, you’d be okay without him by your side for a few months, right? Besides, you still had until the first snow to spend with him, autumn had just started after all. 

Another week passed and you had once more traveled into the village for some items you needed that you had run out of.  It was no shock seeing a trip to the village so soon after the last considering you had been feeding and caring for Yoongi when he came to your cabin. Supplies run a lot faster on two figures instead of just one.

Yoongi had been gone the last couple days, so you assumed he’d be popping by anytime now so you went as soon as you could.  To your misfortune, when you returned once again roughed up, Yoongi was sitting in front of your cabin door waiting for you.  You had half a mind to sneak in through your bedroom window and avoid him for a bit before you let him in to avoid him seeing your freshly beat body. 

Though, you spent just enough time in mental turmoil that he had seen you already. 

He jumped to his feet, his face an expression of shock as he ran to meet you half way as you walked to your cabin.  You greeted him with a smile just as you always did.  

“Good-”

“Hush,” he shushed you as he quickly took the basket from your arms and set it on the ground at your feet.  He took your chin between his fingers and started tilting and moving your head around in different angles looking you over.  Your cheeks flushed as he stared intently at you.  You knew it was just an inspection of your wounds, but it still made your heart pound in your chest.  “They hit you again,” he growled.  

“Yoongi, it’s alright.” 

“No,” he seethed, “it is not.” You swore you started to see small wisps of smoke seep from his nose as he breathed steam.  He must be really angry, you though.  “They cannot just keep treating you like this just because you’re you.” The hand that held your chin moved to rest on your cheek before gliding up to your forehead- pushing your hair back as his hand moved to rest on the back of your head.  “Human’s really are cruel,” he whispered.  

You couldn't argue with that. 

“I’m already used to their treatment,” you attempt to sooth. The physical pain may still occur with each lashing, but you had long since grown emotionally distant from them.  They couldn’t break you any further. 

“You shouldn’t be. You should be treated with respect and kindness.” 

“Like how you treat me,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.  Yoongi paused, his hand coming down to rest on the crook of your neck, his long nails running over your pulse point as his eye softened.  

“No,” he whispered.  “I’m the only one who can treat you this way.” 

“What?” You were confused. He treated you exceedingly well and he wanted other people to treat you better too, but not like him? “That doesn’t make much sense, Yoongi.” 

“It does to me.” 

“Well, then the argument is officially over, huh?” You chuckled as he brought his hand off you and reached for your basket.  He let a smirk grace his lips as he turned and led you back to your cabin so he could help you clean your injuries. 

As he helped treat and dress your wounds and even helped you make the daily meals, he would nit pick about you going into town.  He offered to start going with you, or at least waiting on the edge of the village so he wouldn’t make a fuss in human society with his less than human approach to things, but you denied him.  

He wanted to argue with you, to let him do as he wanted, but you just told him that you usually only went on days he wasn’t with you.  It was never planned, but things just always seemed to fall in that manner.  

In the end, he yielded on the subject; however, before he left that night, he presented you with something.  A flower-sized, brick red scale.  He placed it in your palm before he left you. 

“If something ever happens, you use that scale and call for me. I’ll come flying over as quickly as I can.” You laughed at his over protectiveness.  Dragon Country was miles off from here, so it would take him more than a handful of minutes to get to your cabin depending on where in the world of his kind he was at in the given situation.  You accepted the scale nonetheless, grateful for his tender gesture.  

Everything seemed fine again for time, until Yoongi came to your cabin and saw you prepping to go into the village yet again one morning.  He scowled as he watched you pull your red cloak over your shoulders and grab your basket as you pulled on your boots.  He hid behind the wall of your home as you locked the door and were on your way. 

Yoongi didn’t want you to know he was there following you.  He stayed behind you as you walked the Woodlands trail back to society and the entire way he pouted that you had once again not told him you were going.  

He stood on the outskirts of the village that brought you harm, sitting high up in a treetop to avoid being seen. He knew going into the village after you would get him caught and he knew that if someone even looked at you strangely, he’d probably snap. 

He sat there for a while, just waiting and watching until you finally showed up again, ready to head back home.  His back straightened as he almost smiled seeing you unharmed. He was going to jump down and greet you, fess up that he had followed you and let you scold him as he walked you back home, but before he could even begin moving, he stiffened. 

Knelt on the tree branch he hid behind the brown, red and yellow leaves that hadn’t fallen to the ground and the black of his cape as a group of boys not much older than yourself ran up behind you.  You were just at the tree line of the Woodlands when they had taken your basket from you and shoved you from behind, making you fall to your knees with a cry. 

He was technically in Woodland territory, he had no problem showing himself outside of your village.  

As you rolled onto your back, ready to shove your way to your basket and scurry away just as you had a million times before, something fell from the treetops behind you.  Twisting your body, you only saw a blur shoot past you before one of the three boys was on his ass in the dirt groaning.  

Turning back to your front, your mouth dropped open.  

“Yoongi?!” One boy had helped the other off the ground as the last was squaring up to start a scrap with this random guy who had popped out of the Woodlands.  You wanted to shoot up and tell them to stop it and leave Yoongi alone, but they froze before you could even warn them.  

The three of them swallowed as they started taking small steps backward in retreat.  

Yoongi had tensed his whole body, fingers curled with his claws out.  His face had scales trailing from his cheekbones to his chin as his eyes seeped with complete blackness.  It was like his hair was standing on end as he snarled and raised his lips to bare his fangs at the offenders.  He was daring them to try him.  

Anyone with two eyes, even one eye, could clearly see this man was a dragon and nothing short of a fierce one who didn’t know how to stand down.  Not willing to pick a fight with a being of that caliber and not being properly prepared to boot, the trio turned tail and ran back into the village.  

It was deathly silent as they retreated and Yoongi’s body seemed to relax as you started at his back. His still shoulders went slack as his squared and ready to pounce stance calmed and straightened back out.  His hair settled and the small growls you had heard before disappeared.  

“Uh, Yoongi?” You call softly, not knowing if he was going to whip around and start yelling at you or not.  

He did not.  

He calmly walked to the basket they had taken from you, picking it up and walked back to your side.  He set it down before he grabbed your arms gently and started to pull you off the ground.  Once you stood on your feet, he straightened out your cloak as you brushed off your dress skirt.  

“What are you doing out here?” You asked him, but he didn’t answer you. He just placed his hand on the small of your back, turning you around before he gently pushed you forward to start you off back into the Woodlands and back to your cabin.  

No matter how you tried to talk to him, he never answered the entire trip.  He was completely silent and he didn’t give you any facial ques on what his problem was either.  He stayed quiet, a still canvas  all the way into your cabin where he sat your basket on your table then sat himself in front of your fireplace that wasn’t even lit yet.  It was like the might dragon was pouting.

“Yoongi, please just come over here,” you plead.  You walk behind him as you see his shoulders slump in a silent sigh before he’s standing in front of you again.  He turns and looks down at you and instead of an angry look in his eyes like you were expecting, you see them shine with unshed tears. “Yoongi-” 

He pushes the words from your throat out of you as he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pushes you face into his warm, bare chest.  He lets out a small, shaky breath as his hold tightens around you.  The hand on the back of your head holding you to him felt desperate and sad. You reach around him and snag you hands on the inside of his fur lined cape behind his back. 

“I was worried about you,” he all but whimpers.  “I know I shouldn’t have followed you, but you didn’t tell me that you were going to that village again and I just couldn’t stop myself.  I was so relieved to see you unharmed as you were leaving, but then those scumbags,” he cut himself off with a harsh breath.  “Does that really always happen to you?” 

You nod and give a weak ‘yes’ in reply.  

“No more,” he tells you. “I won’t let it happen anymore. I’ll keep you safe and I’ll protect you from them.  Even when winter comes, I won’t stop visiting you. I’ll keep coming back, I promise.” You wanted to deny him, tell him not to worry about it since he can’t stand the cold.  But, you felt selfish and you wanted him to keep coming back.  You wanted him to dote on you and to keep you safe like he says. 

“I’ll be relying on you then,” was all you told him. When the moment is past, you pull away from his warm chest to look up at him with a playful grin. “You’re pretty pushy when it comes to my safety, it’s almost cute.” 

He shoves you at your jest as he tells you to sit down and go unpack your things.  He plops himself back in front of the fireplace, huffing a ball of fire to get it going in a hurry.  You weren’t sure if it was the light from the fire or not that painted his cheeks pink. 

-x-x-x-

You went without village harm for a month now.  Just as he said, Yoongi was at your side at least every other day instead of a few days away at a time.  He’d always ask if you were alright or anyone had given you any trouble. He knew when you were lying, he had gotten good at telling apart your quirks, so when you told him you were alright he was always relieved. 

The weather kept getting colder and you kept getting more concerned about Yoongi’s choice to go against the cold to come see you as often as possible.  You always thought about how to tell him to not come after the first winter snow to help his overall health; you just had to figure out a way to phrase it so that he’d actually listen. 

It was one of those nights where you hadn’t gotten to sleep very early with your thoughts, and you had just drifted to sleep.  You were somewhere between unconscious, yet aware as you briefly heard something in the distance.  You weren’t awake enough to care and you weren’t aware enough to think it was something other than the nighttime animals. 

A handful of minutes pass when you’re suddenly ripped from your sleep just as you were equally ripped from your bed.  A grip on the back of your nightdress yanked you from your side sleeping position and pulled the fabric against your neck as you choked out a surprised gasp. 

You kicked your legs in panic, your blanket hitting the floor of your room as you were pulled off your mattress and onto the floor.  Hands grasped your biceps and began to drag you backward. You finally found your voice in the form of small screams and protests. You stumbled from the balls of your feet to your heels as you were pulled backward through your cabin before you were through the front door and on the ground. 

Laying in the dirt and covered in goosebumps from the cold night air, you rolled to your back and propped yourself up with your elbows to see who just evicted you from your home.  You shouldn’t have been shocked to see a band of men from the village, yet you were. You instantly started trying to scoot backward on your elbows and heels.

They were covered in furs and boots with torches in hand to light their way through the darkness.  You looked at them in fear and confusion.  What were they doing this far from the village and why were they here at all? 

“What are you doing?!” You scream, your heels kicked into the dirt as your nails dig into the earth trying to back you away from one oncoming man, a blond one. You squirmed as one of his feet kicked at your wrist and pushed your back to the ground as he grabbed you by the collar of your nightdress.  You whined, grabbing his wrist as you grimaced with squeezed shut eyes.  

“You witch,” he accused as you peeked open your eyes. “We’ve let you live close to us, but you’ve gone and made a pact with a demon- a dragon!” Your eyes widened.  Is this because Yoongi just popped out of nowhere a month ago when he followed you? 

“You’re wrong!” You denied.  You had no pact with him.  He was just- you paused mentally. Was Yoongi a friend to you? You had been unconsciously thinking that for several weeks, but saying that out loud and admitting it to yourself as well as someone else- friendship didn’t feel like it did it justice.  Was the connection you had with the dragon you saved from that trap- the same dragon who snarled in your face and decided not to kill you all those weeks ago- really just a friend?  You swallowed.  

Your breath lurched in your throat when the grip of your collar was released in turn for the hand to now encase around your throat fully.  You gagged for a moment as the blond’s nails burned against your skin.  

“Ransack the place!” The man who held your throat shouted over his shoulder.  The two other men with him ran into your cabin and your squeezed shut eyes opened.  You shoved the man’s hand off you, your neck burning as you pushed against his chest.  He fell on the dirt as he groaned. 

“Don’t! Leave my cabin alone!” You cried as you scurried to your feet.  You didn’t get far before your ankle was grabbed and your leg yanked back.  You tumbled ungracefully onto your chest, your nightdress riding up your legs and bum as you felt a weight on your back.  The blond was sitting on you as you kicked.  He held one of your arms behind your back and his other hand pushed your cheek into the dirt, holding your head down.  “Stop it!” You cried into the earth as you heard sounds of destruction in your home.

Glass being thrown to the ground and broken, your shelves being pulled from the wall.  You heard doors of cabinets opening and slamming shut after everything was pulled from them.  The distant sounds of mess told you they were evening throwing things around in your room.  You weren’t sure what they were looking for- evidence? But for what? Your connection with Yoongi to use against you?

“Hey!” One called from inside.  “I found something!”  Footsteps came back outside and stopped above your head.  You were yanked up to sit on your knees- nightdress dirty and covered in small tears and frays of fabric- as the blond behind you snagged a hand in your hair pulling your head to look up.  You winced as your eyes instinctively shut in pain before your chin was grabbed in a new hand.  

A man stood in front of you, brown hair and accusatory eyes. In front of you, he dangled the scale of Yoongi’s he had given you that you had placed inside of a glass locket to keep it safe. You jolted in the blond’s grip, ripping your chin from the brunettes touch. 

“Don’t touch that!” You screamed. The blond restrained you tighter.  “Stop! That hurts!”  You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. 

You weren’t sure how long those men kept you outside your home as they continued to trash it. You were less sure how long you were out in the cold, pinned to the ground and jerked around like a toddlers ragdoll.  

Stomps to your legs to keep you from crawling or getting up and away.  Jabs to the stomach to subdue you just long enough to restraining you as you tried to get your breath back.  Knocks to the head to try and knock you out as you kept on fighting back.  The cold was starting to get to you, your fingers and toes going numb.  Scraps on your knees and elbows from the cold, autumn chilled dirt.  

You were on your back on the ground, the same blond over your, pushing your face down as your arms were trapped under his knees that pinned you on either side.  

You were close to giving up.  You were going to lose your home- you expected them to set it on fire- and you were going to no doubt end up losing your life if this kept up.  Would they take you back to the village and execute you?  Tears trailed down the side of your face as you chewed on your lip. 

This wasn’t fair.  

“Yoongi,” you whimpered as your palms pushed into the earth, the dirt and rocks pushing into your skin just painful enough to keep you conscious.  

It seemed instantaneous to you. It felt like a whirlwind just formed at the center of your small world as the gusts of wind blew around you.  The man above you was blown off as he rolled in the dirt away from your tired, weak, and beaten body.  Whimpers of terror rang in your ears from the other men as growling accompanied those whimpers. 

Stomping and rushes of heat surrounded you with ignited sparks in the night sky.  You managed to push yourself over to weakly roll onto your side and twist onto your stomach to look up at exactly what was happening.  You didn’t see anything in front of you other than your cabin and the three men all on the ground cowering from the sight of something. 

Your dazed eyes narrowed before you heard another growl and the feeling of something massive standing over you.  Coming to a stomping halt at either side of you with distance to spare and to not make you feel suffocated, your eyes widened.  You felt more awake now than the rest of the evening.  

Twisting to look up, you were met with the mighty, giant form of the wyvern you had freed from the metal trap of men.  Snarling with bared fangs and small puffs of fire on his tongue, Yoongi stood over you protectively.  

Tears ran down your shocked face without your control at seeing him really showing up at your side when you truly, desperately needed him with you. You felt weak, but before your body could slump onto the ground, something grabbed you.  

Another new body had looped their arms under yours to keep your chest off the ground and held you to them.  You didn't recognize this person as you looked up at them.  Another man, but this seemed far more mystic.  

Snow white eyes with no iris or pupils to sit in their seas of white.  Illuminated scales of white shone on their cheeks and their ears were pointed and finned.  Hair as silver as the moon and skin as tanned as cooper.  Was this another dragon?  You couldn’t tell anymore; all you knew was that you felt safe in this person’s arms with Yoongi above you. 

You slumped against them, your consciousness finally starting to fade on you with the adrenaline running low now that you felt a sense of safety.  You couldn’t lose it yet, however; you had to calm Yoongi down.  The men had stopped their attack in fear, so Yoongi didn’t need to instigate further. 

“Yoongi,” you called weakly against the second dragon’s chest.  “Don’t,” you pleaded.  There was a small hush before the wind picked up and the stomping that was present before was replaced with harsh footsteps. Yoongi had reverted back to human form as he ran at the blond man who had previously held you down. 

Yoongi’s long claws tore and pierced through the shirt fabric of the blond’s collar as he brought him up to his nose, snarling down at him.  His fists shook in rage as his body trembled with restraint in your presence.  Had you not been there, he was certain he would have killed all three of them without hesitation. 

He picked the blond off the ground just enough to make his toes leave the grass as he threw him at the other two. He huffed, steam blowing out of his nose as his face remained angry. 

“You ever come back here and I, as Y/n’s personal dragon, will tear you apart,” he threatened.  “Now, leave!” He roared as the three men scrambled embarrassingly to their feet and down the trail back to whatever hole they crawled out of. 

Yoongi huffed, breathless as he quickly heard your whimpers behind him.  He spun around, rushing back to your side as he knelt on the ground beside you and took you from the other dragon’s grasp.  He ran the back of his fingers along your cheek as you saw him.  His calm, worried face brought you a sense of peace as you knew the trouble had left.  

“Rest,” he whispered as you finally lost yourself to the unconsciousness that had been choking you around the throat.  

-x-x-x-

You groaned slightly as your eyes cracked open. You were on your back as your lidded eyes were blurred staring up at the ceiling of your room.  You were in a haze as you looked into nowhere.  Thoughts were muddled in your head as you were aware of nothing for a handful of minutes, still high from sleep and drowsiness.  

The sun shone through your open window as you heard the birds outside sing.  It was bright- far brighter than you were used to waking up to.  

It all came back to you all at once like a punch to the jaw.  Memories of being dragged out of your bed, your home, to outside and pummeled until you were weak in the dirt as your home was broken into and wrecked.  

Your arms shot up from under your blanket as they threw the covers off and you sat up straight as a rob.  You sucked in a deep breath that hitched in your throat from the sudden movement that clouded you with a wave of dizziness.  

Your palm moved to push into your forehead as your eyes squeezed shut and you hissed.  Cracking them open, you felt something burn into your side like someone staring at you.  Looking beside your bed, you weren’t wrong.  

Sat on a stool beside your bedroom door was that same unfamiliar dragon with snow white eyes from the night before. You stared back at the unmoving dragon.  Was he… sleeping?  His eyes were open, but his arms that were crossed didn’t even twitch and his body was still as a corpse.  He sat straight up and showed no signs of movement.  

Did some dragon’s sleep with their eyes open? Yoongi didn’t, but maybe other breeds did. 

“It is a relief to see you’ve awakened,” he suddenly spoke.  You squeaked in shock, not expecting him to do- much less say- anything. “It has been a handful of hours since you lost consciousness.”

You looked away from him as you looked down at your lap.  You scrunch your blanket in your palms, the same palms that you were finally starting to feel the stinging sensation of when you were thrown to the dirt.  The small cuts and scrapes on your knees and legs and arms all started to tingle with an indescribably unpleasant feeling.  

“So, that wasn’t just a nightmare after all,” you sulked to yourself.  

“It seems that Sire holds a great deal of worry about your condition.” 

Your brows drew close together in confusion.  

“Excuse me?” You asked, confusion painting around your eyes.  This dragon with no expression and no irises with the pure white eyes just stared at you. “Sire? Who are you talking about? No,” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “Who are you?” You re-ask, wanting to know this stranger dragon first.  He was just sitting in your room watching over you, you figured an introduction wasn’t out of the question. 

The dragon brought a webbed hand up to their chest, lowering their head to you in a small bow.  You recoiled at such an action.  No one had bowed to you before in your life- that was reserved for royals and people of importance. Not someone like you, a Woodlands hermit. The action made a blush fan across your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“I am Navia. I work under Sire as the leader of the Dragon Guard of His Majesties palace.  I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. It is a pleasure, My Lady.” His voice was smooth like the surface of a peaceful lake surrounded by nature.  His usage of honorifics only made the embarrassing red cheeks of yours darken. 

“Y-you don’t need to address me like that!” You sputtered as you twisted on your bed to slide your legs out of your covers and hang them over the bedside.  “Just Y/n, is fine. I don’t need any titles,” your voice wavered in embarrassment as the white eyes of Navia returned to you. 

“I do not know if I will be able to address you so casually. It may displease him.” 

“You keep mentioning someone; Sire? Who is that exactly?” Navia never got a chance to answer when their was three knocks on your bedroom door before it was opened.  The redness in your cheeks was broken and a smile pulled on your lips on seeing Yoongi in your doorway.  “Yoongi!” You happily called as he quickly made his way to your bed, kneeling in front of you taking your hands into his own. 

“How long have you been awake? Are you in pain?” 

“I haven’t been up long, I was just talking to Navia and introducing ourselves. I don’t feel particularly good, but I don’t feel particularly bad either. Though, I feel better than I did if that’s anything to be accounted for.”

Yoongi’s eyes softened at your smile. You talked so easily and so soon after you were attacked so brutally.  He wondered where you found the strength to do so.  If he was in your position he’d be a pot of boiling rage, but he didn’t sense anything like that from you.  Yet, instead he could see the sorrow behind your eyes. 

“Navia,” he spoke as the dragon behind him stood at the call of his name. “Give us a moment,” Yoongi’s voice was stern with instruction. 

“As you wish, Sire.” You looked at Navia as he left. You looked back down to Yoongi who was already looking at you as if you were the only thing he wanted to look at for the remainder of his life.  

“Sire? So, he’s been talking about you?” You quirked your brow as Yoongi’s hand left yours and moved to cup around your cheek.  “Yoongi?” 

“There is a lot I haven’t told you and there are a lot of things we need to talk about. I didn't mean to lie- to keep it from you, but I just never had the chance to bring it up. Things about me I’ve kept from you.” You remained silent as he spoke no more.  You both sat in silence for a while as you gathered your bearing.  

Yoongi had taken to tending to you.  You showed him once how to properly wrap bandages around wounds, and so he did.  He wrapped any wound that seemed painful (which was many to his eyes) before he was helping you off your bed. 

“Yoongi, I’m not so hurt I can’t walk myself,” you chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your back to support you.  One of your arms clutched at the cape behind him as the other supported your balance on his chest.  He held you to his side as he was careful not to rush his steps and trip you up. 

“Still, you’re in no condition to be completely independent right now. Allow me to help you.” You almost scoffed at his aid as if you weren’t able to handle yourself, but you did appreciate it- especially when he didn’t need to offer such kindness.  

As he helped you out of your room, you were shocked to see not a trashed cabin like you expected, but it was almost completely clean aside from the broken cabinet doors that sat against the wall in a pile.  Whatever would have been broken was picked up and things were on the counter and on the table out of the way and where they belonged.  A fire was even lit in the hearth of the fireplace.  

You looked up to Yoongi. Did he clean it up? He helped you to the table where he sat you down on the chair by the window where you would normally drink something warm.  You felt a little bad you hadn’t set out a plate of feed for the birds and critters today- but allowed yourself a pass considering your situation. 

Navia was sitting by the fireplace as he watched the two of you.  Yoongi moved to sit on the table’s edge- as unmanneristic as it was, it somehow suited him.  He was in front of you against the wooden table, his fingers brushing along your cheek that had a patch over it to cover your cuts. 

“Where would you like me to start, Scale?” He asked you. Your face deepened when he addressed you like that.  Was that his form of a nickname? You shook the thought away as you opened your mouth. 

“My cabin, I guess?” You realize you didn’t give him much of a specific answer. “I mean, I was expecting it to be a nightmare, but it’s so clean?” 

“That is because I cleaned it up,” he softly told you with a small smile.  So, you were right.  “The times I have been here, I was familiar with the placements of most of your belongings.  Others I admit I guessed, but I couldn’t leave it like it was.  You have enough to worry about.” 

“Well, thank you for that,” you graciously tell him.  

“It was nothing.” You spent a good portion of that day talking to Yoongi where you were.  If you wanted to get up and move to take a break from the flood of answers to any question you had, he would help.  Navia would walk around and do small chores for you if you were kind enough to ask- or have Yoongi tell him to. The tanned dragon was awfully obedient, yet kind to a fault it seemed. 

The shortened days of winter were showing as the sky started to progressively darken.  You watched it from the window of the cabin you had been in all day.  It had been a long time since you spent all your time inside without much of anything to do. It was relaxing even if under unpleasant circumstances.  

Yoongi had handed you a mug of something warm for your throat as you thanked him and took small, cautious sips due to its heat.  Yoongi watched you as you watched outside, the occasional chuckles slipping past your lips when you saw birds or squirrels chase each other around. 

“Y/n,” Yoongi called as Navia had taken his place back by the fireplace.  He was, unsurprisingly, not fond of the cold so he had stuck to the fireplace like glue as often as he could. “Do you want to leave this cabin?” 

His question caught you off guard.  You lowered your mug to the table top as you looked at him. 

“What?” 

Yoongi’s mouth was pressed into a thin line as his eyes were narrowed in a veil of anxiousness.  In truth he didn’t want you to live here anymore.  What happened the night before could very well happen again and what if he didn’t get to you in time next time? What if next time they drag you off or even kill you? He couldn’t handle that.  He didn’t even want to think about it. 

“If I left,” you chuckled bitterly as you looked back outside, “where would I go? I can’t just live in a cave or in trees.” 

“You could come back with me.” There was silence in the cabin’s front room.  The sound of the fire crackling and the small sounds from outside your walls.  “Come back with me to Dragon Country and live there.” 

“That’s impossible,” you told him. “I am no dragon. How could I live there?” You half expected Navia from behind to slip into the conversation and throw in his opinion on the matter.  You, a human leaving the Woodlands and running off to live in Dragon Country? There was no way, it was preposterous. “Why take me back anyways?” 

“Dragon’s are only able to choose one being to become absolutely loyal to without fault in their lives.  We live for years, decades, centuries.  The oldest of dragon’s can live for hundreds of human lifetimes, so we are especially picky when it comes to our choice.”

“What does that have to do with me?” You asked. 

“I said so before, I am your dragon.” That’s right. You did remember him saying that in his rage the night before.  Something about being your personal dragon and threatening the men not to try another attack stunt again. 

“So, then-”

“I chose you,” he admitted. You felt your air leave you in silent waves.  “Out of all things I’ve met of my years alive, you were the first to treat me kindly without expecting anything in return.  You were my first in many things that warmed my being. That is why I want you to come back with me.” 

You opened your mouth then shut it again before you shook your head, trying to process his words.  You took a shaky breath and looked back to him again. 

“Say I agreed, isn’t it too dangerous? I mean, you might be with me, sure, but I’m still just a human woman. What could I possibly do so you wouldn’t have to protect me all the time? Wouldn’t I just be a constant risk?” 

“That would not be the case,” he told you sternly. “I would see to it that every dragon be made aware of who you are. Once they know, they wouldn’t dare lay a talon on you unless they’re turncoats.” Yoongi sounded so serious, you almost believed him. “They would treat you better than these humans ever have,” he promised. 

“How are you so sure?” You narrowed your eyes at him, challenging his word.  He sure sounded high and mighty for proposing something that sounded so risky. 

“Because I’m your dragon,” he repeated.  You almost groaned and rolled your eyes.  You felt like you were running in circles with him. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” So what? You get to boss around and rely on a dragon. As legitimately remarkable as that is, you didn’t seem to connect that to your safety in his country. 

“Because my Master in question- you- would be commanding the dragon in charge of Dragon Country.” There was a beat of silence. 

What. 

“So, you’re claiming to be what? The King of Dragon Country? Am I just supposed to believe that?” 

“Yes, you are.” He told you with a straight face.  There was no sign of lying or hesitation. He seemed so sure and serious of himself that you were questioning yourself of his truth.  

“But that’s-”

“If I may,” Navia spoke, cutting you off from behind you as Yoongi shot him a glare for interrupting you.  You turned to look at the white-eyed dragon as his tanned skin shone with the fire’s casted light. “It’s wise to know that the King detests liars and lies in general.” 

Your eyes widened as you whipped your head back to Yoongi who was still shooting the other dragon a look before he returned his sights back to you.  

“Oh my Gods, you’re serious.” 

The night concluded a long, well-rounded talk about just who Yoongi really was.  Finding out he was a king was one thing, but it was harder to understand that you were now in charge and in command of that king.  You felt simultaneously all powerful and powerless. 

In the end, you did agree to go back with him; however, under one condition. 

-x-x-x-

You sat at your desk in your room, scribbling line after line of ink on a piece of parchment.  It had been a week since your ‘unfortunate situation’ as you called it and you were healing well.  You fixed your cabin the best you could and moving around like normal again was easier by the day.  You could already almost chop firewood again- not that you actually were. You had no reason to stock up anymore.

On your bed was a bag.  One that was large and had the flap open to show the contents inside.  A few folded dresses and one of your leather corsets that wasn’t completely ruined.  Jars and bottles of salves, potions, crushed herbs, flowers, and sacks of roots and leaves.  Even your favorite cup and a knowledgeable book about medicine.  All neatly packed. 

You stretched as you leaned back in your chair and looked out the window to your room.  You smiled as a bittersweet feeling fluttered in your stomach.  

You looked down at the letter you had just finished as you folded it up and placed it inside of an envelope before writing the name of to whom it would be addressed on the front.  

Your windows rattled with a gust of wind outside. You smiled as you got up from your desk and grabbed your bag.  You tossed the flap of ti over the bag, the large button in the flap of it looping through a latch to close it securely.  You threw the long strap over your shoulder as you grabbed the letter from your desk and opened your bedroom door. 

You stopped, turning to look at the room once more.  It was clean, bed made and everything neat and tidy. You smiled sadly at your space before you said goodbye to it.  You felt silly saying farewell to a room. 

When you walked into the main room, Yoongi had already let himself in.  He smiled at you when he saw  you.  Just as you had asked him a week ago, he had left you alone for the last 7 days. That was your condition, even if he grumbled about it.  You wanted one last week on your own in your lifelong home- that was all. 

He walked to you and grabbed your arm gently before bending to softly push his lips against his cheek.  You jolted as you covered your skin with your hand. 

“What was that for?” You asked, flushed. 

“Simply, because.” 

“That is not an answer,” you scowled.  “Did Navia come with you?” You asked peering around his back to look.

“Of course he didn’t.  I don’t need an escort.” 

“Of course you don’t,” you giggle. You walked around your cabin, running your fingers over the surface of your counters, your fireplace’s bricks, your dining table and around the window frames.  You took everything into your memory even though this was the only home you ever had. Maybe that was why you felt like crying. 

“Are you unwell?” Yoongi asked, coming up behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders.  He could see how hard this was for you even without you looking at him directly.  He knew this was his selfish wish, but if you really wanted to stay he wouldn’t drag you away.  

“I feel like I'm homesick, but I haven’t even left yet,” you chuckle as your eyes stung.  One of Yoongi’s hands moved to rest on your head as he pushed his cheek against the top of his hand to lean against your head.  

“It will be alright,” he soothed.  

“I know,” you chocked.

You spent a little while longer in your lifelong home before you felt like you were finally as ready as you’d ever be to leave.  You feared if you stayed too much longer you’d root into your floorboard and then you’d never move again. As you walked out of the house, you took the key that hung on the inside of the door frame and took it out with you.  You didn’t lock the cabin door, instead you placed the key on the outside doorknob. 

This cabin would be welcoming to anyone who needed it, that was what the key hanging outside the space signified.  

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Yoongi asked for the umpteenth time, earning him an eye roll from you. 

“Yes, now take me away or else I’ll start ugly crying.” He chuckled before he was walking with you out of the Woodlands and when you reached the edge of the lands, he transformed into his wyvern form.  You climbed onto his neck just behind his head so you could clutch onto his horns (or his ears, whichever worked best with your grip) before he was flying off with you completely.  

Leaving that cabin, the humans and one single letter on the dining table addressed to ‘Villagers’ behind for good.  

-x-x-x-

“Father! Look, is this what you were talking about?” A small child cheered as he ran through the Woodlands and came across a small cabin that was covered in overgrowth.  The wood had been overrun with vines and moss. Small tree saplings sprung from the wood above on the roof and weeds overtook the ground that was once all dirt.  The trunk that had once been used to chop wood years and years ago had a sapling of a new tree ready to grow in the next hundred years. 

Nests of birds, holes and burrows of moles and squirrels littered the area. 

The child ran around the perimeter of the cabin, eyeing it up and down as small plumes of red smoke puffed through their nostrils in excitement.  

“I’ve never seen a human house before!” 

“Juilius, come back to me before you trip or get caught in a vine.” 

The child trotted back to his father who had come to the Woodlands simply to show his son what the home of a human looked like.  Although, times have changed and this is certainly not how humans lived anymore.  This cabin was long forgotten to time and nature had long since reclaimed it. 

The visit was short and sweet to a degree as the child was soon ushered to be ready to leave.  “Your mother wants you home at a reasonable time. We can’t keep her waiting.” 

“I’m coming,” the child cheered as he started leaving the Woodlands with his father’s hand in his own. “Will I get to fly part of the way back this time? I swear I can!” 

“Alright, you can until we hit the first mountain peak; but don’t tell your mother.”

“I won’t!” He promised.  

Landing peacefully in Dragon Country and arriving safely at the palace, the child giggled happily to himself on how well he was able to fly on his own and how his wings were getting stronger day by day.  

“Yes, but you still can’t retract your scales yet, now can you?” His father teased.  Juilius pouted as his brick red scales refused to fade in his human form.  

“Well,” a voice called to them in a happy tone. “You look just like your father when you pout like that with your scales out.” 

“Mother!” Juilius cheered as he ran to his mother’s arm, clinging to her as he was picked up and nuzzled into her neck.  “Father took me to the Woodlands today. He said that there was a cabin in the woods where you used to live, so he let me see it!” 

You blinked down at your blush-cheeked scaled child. “Oh did he? I hope he didn’t let you fly at that dangerous height.” 

“Nope!” The child grinned as innocent as can be- keeping his promise to his father in the small little white lie. 

“You always assume the worst of me. Don’t you, Scale?” Yoongi teased as he came to your side with your child on your chest as his legs kicked playfully on either side of your hips.  He was young, only a decade old. He was still a hatchling when it came right down to dragon ages. 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“Mother, can you tell me about the humans?” 

“You’re always so curious about them. Why do you want to know, Hatchling?” 

“Well, you used to be one right? Father said you only got your scales and horns when you came here.” 

“Well, then that is going to be a long story. It’s only right if your father helps tell part of it too. It is his fault I became a dragon in the first place,” you looked at Yoongi as he cleared his throat. “Isn’t that right, Your Majesty.” 

“I really don’t know what you could be referring to,” he sheepishly retorted, looking away.  As Juilius tried annoying the answer out of his father, he just shushed him. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” 

“That’s not fair,” the child pouted. 

“My Lady,” your attention was called from Navia who had finally tracked you down. His white eyes glowing down the halls like nighttime fireflies as he approached.  “A new hatchling was born in the valley this morning and it’s mother asked if you would be gracious enough to name them.”

Your eyes shined. “I’d love to,” you said as you set Juilius down and kissed his forehead.  You moved to kiss Yoongi’s cheek as you allowed Navia to escort you away. The dragon child took his father’s hand.  

“So, what mother said about how she became a dragon; why do I need to wait until I grow up to know? Is it some kind of big dragon secret?” Yoongi’s face flushed as he cleared his throat again and was soon leading his son off somewhere else to clean up after his day out. 

“I already told you, not until you’re older.” 

Who knew that the exchanging of the blood and saliva of the king of dragons was able to gradually change humans into dragons? Yoongi certainly never knew until one morning you woke up with scales dusting your cheeks after a rather specific night.

To which would soon be the outcome of the pestering royal child, Juilius. 

-END-

[creepytoes88]

Let me spoil you, baby

Y/n’s Pov

Dating Vinnie wasn't what I expected I never was a big social media person but everyone and their uncle has tiktok. Chances are if you have tiktok you have seen Vinnie so needless to say I had a major crush on him. After seeing all the seemingly “Perfect” girls he hung around with. I never thought I had a chance, ya know besides the fact that I was a nobody. However living in LA is never boring and it never disappoints I saw Vinnie's cute ass on melrose, I'm not what you would call a “skinny” girl I have relatively small breast and a pleasantly plump butt as my mother would say. I'm not ashamed of my less then flat stomach either I don't need anyones approveal to be happy with myself. However back when I first met Vinnie that was a different story I was too shy to come up to him and say hello so I just admired him from where I was standing before walking away right passed him and his friends.

I walked into the nearest store and began to look at clothes picking out a pair of nice mom jeans and a vintage Cheech and Chong shirt. I heard the bell attached to the top of the door jingle as I walk to the jewelry part of the store I began to look at the earnings and necklaces. “How’s your day been so far beautiful?” I look up towards the voice ready to tell them to fuck off but I look up to see Vinnie Fucking Hacker. I quickly recover and Smile pulling myself together “I've had a great day! how has your day been?” I smile at him “it was alright but like 10 minutes ago I think I saw the most beautiful woman in my life walk into this store so I had to pray and hope that she didn't leave.” I widen my eyes looking around seeing no one “Did she leave?” Vinnie let out a laugh “No I'm actually talking to her, if you have time I would love to grab coffee or lunch with you, right now, on me of course!”

I drop my mouth a little before looking around for the cameras “um I would love too... My names Y/n by the way, I won't lie to you I know who you are Vinnie.” I say with a sad tone half expecting him to cancel “good now I don't have to explain why people are taking pictures of me” he says as he holds out his hand “are you ready to check out or are you still shopping?” he says with a small smile “Oh yea I'm ready I can always come back anyway” I smiled back at him as I grab his hand and walk towards the cashier setting down my clothes and jewelry she quickly rings then up “That’s gonna be $357.45.” I smile and start to take my card out when suddenly Vinnie hands her 400 hundred dollars I turn to him with my mouth wide “Why did you just do that please get your money back” Vinnie laughed at me grabbing his change and the receipt “you can pay it back to me by going to dinner with me again tomorrow?” I look at him we haven’t even gotten food yet and he’s trying to schedule another date “your not paying for my food this time or next though you just lost those privileges” I say with a sassy attitude grabbing my bag and walking out Vinnie following close behind.

Fast forward to now we never really tried to hide our relationship we just let it grow naturally and didn’t speak on it. Everyone has recently been hating on me jealous girls calling me ugly and fat, at first it didn't even affect me. I know Vinnie love me but in the back of my mind it bothered me it hurt my feelings. I didn't tell Vinnie, I don't want him to feel bad or worry there is nothing anyone can do to make them stop so I just lived with it. It's been 3 weeks since I've been getting hate in my DMs on every platform everyday I wake up and it keeps piling up. I look at them again before clicking my phone off and getting in the shower to release some tension and stress.

Vinnie's Pov

“Alright ill see you guys later!” I yelled at the boys running up to my door step we just got back from the skate park and I was so Gross and sweaty. I open the door and make my way upstairs as I walked into Y/n and I’s room slipping off my shoes and stripping myself of all my sweaty clothing except my boxers I fall flat on the bed. “Ouch” I said as I felt my forehead connect to a hard surface “what the fuck” I said in a soft voice holding my head I look down and see Y/n phone a smirk spreading across my face. I'm gonna tweet weird things off her twitter I think to myself as I open her phone I see her DMS are open and people are saying some pretty nasty things I look at the other social media platforms. I'm shocked and I'm pissed how could they even say such thing about Y/n the sweetest, most humble and beautiful person I have ever met or seen for that matter. I click off the phone and place it on the bed side table hearing the shower turn off quickly I pick up my clothes off the floor and shut the door I watch as my beautiful girlfriend comes out “boo.” I say behind her seeing her jump in the air slightly “fuck baby you scared me” she said turning around kissing my lips before turning and grabbing her lotion. Now usually when Y/n gets out of the shower she drops her towel and puts on lotion before getting dressed this time she picks it up along with her clothes and speeds off to the bathroom quickly shutting the door. “What are you doing sweetie?” I ask softly before tapping on the door “n-nothing...just getting dressed”

I bit my lip slightly “baby this doesn't have to do with what I saw on your phone does it?” no reply so I tried the doorknob and it was locked “baby let me in please” I hear sniffles and shuffling “let me g-get dressed fir-” I growl slightly not even noticing “now princess” I once again her shuffling before the door clicks. Pulling the poor open I rushed in seeing Y/n naked and basically covering herself looking at the ground “oh no baby look at me” I say softly walking over to her “please beautiful” she sniffles before looking at me I see tears are running down her face. I simply kiss them away “please don't hide yourself from me baby” I kiss her cheeks and her forehead “I love you and I care about you I think you're perfect” I say before kissing her lips. Slowly she dropped her arms kissing me back harder I take my hands to her thighs picking her up which we usually don't do she would always complain and get uncomfortable. This time was no different “mmm no vinnie put me down” I kissed her lips squeezing her thighs “i got you I promise baby just to the bed” she finally wraps her legs around me her arms leaving the wall going to my hair. She wasn't even hard to lift let alone carry 20 feet I wish she didn't think and feel this way about her self. I walked her straight to a wall completely skipping the bed.

“I'm gonna show you how beautiful and amazing you are my sweet girl” I began kissing her lips and grinding against her my hard shaft against her bare clit moans spilling out of her mouth immediately. I grab her full breast in my hands playing with her soft nipples as I kiss down her neck whimpers coming from her mouth. My hard cock grinding harder against her as my mouth attacks one of her nipples my hand attacking the other pinching and pulling. Her moans get louder as I switch nipples I leave little hickeys on her boobs and chest making my way up her neck. I could feel her legs gripping onto me and her hips thrusting against mine “oo-ooh shit Vin... I'm gonna cum” she says in a hot breathy tone I kiss her lips pulling one of her knees up onto my shoulder and gasp leaves her mouth letting me enter my tongue I grind faster as I abuse her sweet mouth with my tongue swallowing her moans and pants. Her thighs shaking slightly pulling away I kiss her cheeks grabbing her other leg tossing it over my shoulder so her full body weight was against me and the wall. Her sweet pussy staring me in the face I could smell her and I moaned spreading her legs wider hearing her gasp I smirk “you smell so good baby mind if I have a taste?” she just whines and kicks her legs slightly “mmm I'll take that as a yes baby.”

I say with a smirk dropping my head slightly my nose poking around her clit and my tongue plunged as deep as I could possibly get in moans spilling from my mouth as her taste fills my mouth. Clouds cover my brain all I can think about is making my baby cum. I was making a deep growling sound in my chest and didn't even notice it everytime she tried to pull away from my mouth and nose it got louder almost like a warning to stay still. “Ahh Vinnie baby please” I started to get curious and before I know it I feel my tongue swipe across her pink button and load moan and gasp along with her grinding her hips into my face I assume she likes it. I do it again this time swirling around it making it known I'm doing it on purpose “Vinnie why are you doing that?” she say grinding against me “Do you want me to stop?” I answer her question with a question she throws her head back and moans “noooooo please more!” I pull her from the wall walking to the bed I drop her. Y/n spreads her legs apart looking up at me “butt in the air Princess spread your legs as far as you can get them.”

She flips over her hands and elbows holding her up that's not exactly what I want tho “spread your ass and pussy for me baby” I say with little smirk she lays on her face and knees as her hands pull her butt cheeks apart with a little moan. I look down admiring her sweet little holes staring at me I let out a wolf whistle “damn beautiful....i can't wait to taste you again” I grab ahold of her soft asscheeks in my hands as hers fall to her sides. I lick a thick stripe over her clit all the way to her button slightly entering my tongue before licking around it again “please daddy” I look up at her pushing my thumb in to her greedy pussy “yess daddy more please” I chuckle “what more could you want baby?” she slightly blushes turning her head the other way “mmmm baby Daddy isn't a mind reader if you want something you have to speak up.” I say with a smirk “p-please ea-” she shakes her head and takes a deep breath “please eat me” I chuckle she's so cute “eat what baby?”

I rub her thigh with my other unused hand and kiss her squishy butt cheeks definitely enjoying myself “God I love your bubble butt princess it's amazing If I had my way I would sleep on it, roll on it, and most definitely eat it” I say giving her the ok to ask biting down on her ass “YES YES DADDY EAT MY ASS PLEASE” I laugh before spreading her open and I lay a kiss on her wet hole as a moan leaves her mouth I lick around for a second before slipping my tongue in slightly before pulling out. Her moans and whimpers music to my ears I repeat this a few times till I think she's loose enough to put my tongue fully in “ready my dirty little girl” she moans in response and I slip my tongue fully into her as both my thumbs attack her clit and slit “FUCK DA-ADDY MORE PLEASE” I eat her like crazy shaving my tongue in between both holes as I slap her ass and clit “OOOOH FUCK IM CUMMING” she yells as I feel wetness on my chin and fingers.

I pull away dropping down next to her before turn my head to meet her gaze “sit on my face Princess” I say as I pull her hand she slowly moves over to me with wild eyes I pull her over me before pulling her hips down to meet my face she was completely sitting on my face with all her weight as I dive my tongue in for a third time occasionally slipping it in her butt making her moan and grind against my face “Daddy I'm coming already” she says humping my face with her hands in my hair “MMMMM” she gasps as she cum on my face for the 4 time “fuck princess you ready”

I say as I pull my boxers down she nods as she lays down spreading her legs for me “such a good girl for Daddy” I pick up one of her legs wrapping it around my hip tossing the other over my shoulder before slipping into her. I grunt as her walls squeeze around me I hear her moan “shit daddy your so big” I give a breathy laugh “i think your just tight baby” I say before I thrust into her. Moans leaving both of our mouths as I pound into her I pull out flipping her over and push back in “AH” she groans “you good baby” I say as I thrust softly “ye-YES” I smirk pushing into her as deep as possible “can I put my babies inside of you baby” she gasp and turns her head to look at me “i wouldn't want anyone else to spend my life with and I can't think of ayone I would rather raise my kids with then you baby” she drops her head moaning as she thrust her hips back in to me “flip me back over so I can hold it in Daddy we might not get lucky the first time but it's worth a shot.” Y/n moans grabbing my hand I flip her over putting her legs on my shoulders fucking into her “mmm baby I'm gonna fuck my baby into you honey” I bite and suck at her neck “would you like that?”

She moans and throws her head back moaning “hold it princess please just a little longer” I pant kissing her neck quickly I grab my pillow and shove it under her ass before stuffing my entire length inside of her moaning. Releasing my load deep inside of her before pulling my hips out almost all the way fucking my cum inside of her till I couldn't feel it sloshing around anymore. “Do you wanna cuddle baby” she nods her head I turn her to her side putting her under the cover getting up to turn the light off climbing back in behind her “stay still princess I wanna make sure nothing comes out tonight” she smiles holding out her hand. Knowing she was going to be sensitive I grab it kissing her shoulders and back as I slowly slip my limp cock inside of her before it hardened back up “oo-oh shit Daddy I love your big cock” she says sleepily I pull her close to me kissing her lips “well we love you too” she opens her eyes “ew” she laughs making me laugh too “go to bed brat I love you beautiful” “I love you to handsome I'm very excited to have a mini you running around”

[cazimagines]

Never break the chain

Synopsis: You were Zemo’s devoted girlfriend, he would take you all over the world and treat you to everything you want in life however that all changed the day Sokiva fell. Consumed by anger Zemo went off the deep end trying to avenge his fallen country and you last saw him being escorted to prison. Years later you became really ill and there was only one thing that could save you. After a lot of searching you finally managed to get your hands on some super soldier serum which saved you however Zemo is now out of prison as is determined to finish what he started no matter what stood in his way.

Warnings/Tags: Bad Zemo, Mentions of guns, Toxic relationship, Almost cried while writing this, Hits in the feelings, Lots of angst, So much angst, Mentions of death

Word count: 1.7k

Author’s note: Hello my fellow masochists *cough* Markiplier *cough*, I for one thrive on sad moments in fics, ones that break my heart. I live off angst and I am sure I am not the only one in this so I have written this angsty Zemo fic. There is no fluff here just sadness so you have been warned. I’m going to write a really sweet and fluff filled one shot after this as an apology. Also warning this relationship is toxic so like obviously I don’t condone Zemo’s behaviour in this, he’s meant to be a dick here.

I got inspired to write this from a song so like if you want extra emotions listen to this: https://youtu.be/1A8YpV1tfsQ

This is also being posted on my ao3 account under the name Casmad

The wind blew sharply against you, the coldness of it scratching your skin. Your eyes water up slightly at the harshness of it and you wrap your arms around your body trying to warm yourself up. You looked out over the cliff, looking over now the deserted area you once called home. Sokovia. Its beautiful landscape is broken and torn apart. An echo of how magnificent it once was. You raise your hand to touch the chain that hung around your neck. A reminder of the past.

“Darling I would be honored if you wore this for me. I have a similar one I’ll always keep around my neck so that even when we are apart, there’s a part of us that will always be together” Zemo asks nervously, swallowing and glancing from the necklace in his hand to your face.

You put your hands onto his, taking the necklace, “I’ll never take it off”

Zemo’s face broke out into a smile, his eyes shining as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. He holds you closely as you close your eyes melting into his presence. He kisses the top of your forehead and rests the top of his head on yours. “My beautiful moon” he murmurs

A tear slowly slipped down your cheek as you thought back to better times. You had been so happy with him. You two had planned your whole lives out together. The Baron and Baroness.

“Would you care to accompany me to the ball?” Zemo asks, holding his arm out to you.

“Oh I don’t know should I?” you joke, holding your chin in your hand as if questioning it, making Zemo chuckle.

“If you do I promise you can be in charge in the bedroom tonight,” he says as he leans into you. You grin back at him, raising your hand to his suit jacket and pulling him towards you for a kiss. As you feel his lips on yours and his hand rests on your hip you smile into the kiss. As you pull back you swell with happiness seeing a rosy tint to Zemo’s cheeks.

“I suppose turning up to to a ball on the arm of a Baron has its perks”

Zemo laughs and pulls you into a side hug placing a kiss on your temple.

“What would I do without you” he hums to himself as he admires you “My moon”

Everything made sense, everything fit. You couldn’t imagine a life any different till it happened.

You and Zemo had been away visiting a local country when you heard of the news. You collapsed on the floor screaming at the tv as Zemo was on the phone already organizing a trip back home. When you arrived your heart broke seeing all the destruction. Zemo was holding your hand but he let go. It was all gone. Everything. Your whole life had changed just like that.

You wipe the tears away from your cheeks yet they continue to flow as you remembered what happened after. The madness and desire for revenge had consumed Zemo. You tried to stop him. You really did but what could you have done?

“Helmut, please. This isn’t healthy...this...this isn’t you!” you cried as Zemo was preparing his attack on the avengers

“Y/n I have to do this. There is no other way” he angrily replied, refusing to look at you.

“I can’t support this” you whisper, grabbing a hold of his arm. “I can’t watch you do this”

Zemo looks at you, his face forlorn as he watches the tears fall from your eyes. He pulls you to his chest wrapping his arm around you and kisses the top of your head, stroking your hair. “I’m not asking you to moon”

You leave the warmth of his arms and watch as he grabs his bags and walks out of your room, giving you one last glimpse of goodbye before he walks out of your life.

That was the last time you saw him in person. The next time it was on the news as he was being arrested. In the end, his plan had succeeded. He split up the avengers but then what? It didn’t bring anyone back. Sokovia was still dead and you were left behind while he was locked up for life.

You close your eyes, squeezing out the remains of your tears, preparing to leave this cliff looking over your deserted town when you hear the sound of a click. You let in a sharp breath of recognition. Slowly turning around your eyes adjust to the barrow of a gun and the person standing behind it.

Zemo.

He still looked the same as you remembered. Though if you stared closely you could see lines showing his age starting to appear, the bags under his eyes were bigger than what they once were however after all this time it was still him. He even wore that ridiculously over-the-top coat that you always stole from him.

His eyes however were different, when you always looked into them in the past they seemed warm, like the feeling of drinking hot chocolate. You could melt in them but now they were stone cold. Emotionless. Like he wasn’t even there.

“Zemo…” you breathed out focusing on him

“I planned to eliminate all superheroes” he states

You shake your head at him, “Zemo please”

“I’ve almost completed my plan to rid the world of superheroes, of ‘super soldiers’”

“Please let me explain,” you say starting to take a step forward to him but he quickly raises his other hand grasping the gun, holding it in both hands now and pointing it at you making you stop in your tracks.

“How could you,” he spits, his lips drawing back in a snarl “How could you become one of them!”

“I had no choice” You rasp, tears starting to flow from your eyes again, “I would have died otherwise”

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED THAN TAKEN IT” Zemo shouts

The colour drains from your face, your eyes widen in shock staring at him. His jaw tightens as he glares at you. You both stand there in silence taking in what he had said.

Wiping the side of your tear-stained cheek you smile sadly at him, sniffing, you step forward again resting your forehead against the gun.

“Okay” you simply say, your throat feeling like sandpaper as you utter those words

Zemo glares at you, his finger resting on the trigger. The gun starts to shake as he clenches his face in anger.

“DAM IT” he shouts, throwing the gun to the side. His hands grab onto your shoulders roughly, causing you to hiss in pain.

“Why are you doing this to me y/n. How could you do this to me” He snaps.

You were too shocked to reply to him, causing him to get even angrier. His eyes swarmed with tears and when one threatened to fall he pushed you back and turned away so you wouldn’t see.

You shakily let out a breath you were holding in and collapsed onto your knees. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest and you clenched the sides of your body with your arms in comfort.

Zemo turns back around to you, hatred in his eyes. “I’ve come so far, killing so many just to be stopped here”

“Because you refuse to kill the woman you love” you implored in hope but he shakes his head, “No. Not that”

“Yes, yes that Zemo!” you say shakily getting back up off the ground. “Zemo I still love you though by gods I shouldn’t. We made a promise to each other” you affirmed holding up the chain around your neck, “We were forever Zemo”

Zemo’s finger brushed up against the chain that had been hanging around his neck for the past seven years. They wrap around the chain and in one swift motion, he pulls it off his neck, breaking the chain and throwing it to the ground.

You stare at the broken chain on the floor, your heart dropping. In just one notion it was like all those moments you two spent together were worth nothing. It had led to nothing.

Zemo grabs ahold of your chain and pulls you closer to him, “The truth is, my darling moon, that you don’t love me either”

You try to argue back to him but he raises his finger to your lips, “ah”

“You want to know how I know?”

You don’t say anything, staring at him confused, he leans towards you and automatically you close your eyes however he instead he puts his lips to your ears,

“You’ve been calling me Zemo instead of Helmut”

He lets go of the chain, pushing you away from him again, the force knocking you to the ground.

You think back over your conversation. He was right. When had you started referring him to his last name rather than his first name? You had always called him by his first name before.

You look back up to him, your eyes watering and noticing the tears starting to fall from his eyes.

“I spent years in that prison imaging what it would be like to finally get out. To hold you in my arms once again. To have what we once had. It was the only thing that kept me going in there. You can’t even begin to imagine the pain I felt when I found out the truth. The pain of your betrayal. I hated you. I...I” his voice cracked as he started to cry more

He keeps trying to stop letting out a sob yet his mouth can’t help but frown and his face contorted. “I thought I could stop the pain by getting rid of you but I can’t. Even though I can’t stand looking at you I can’t kill you”

He swallows and looks away from you to the chain on the ground, “I don’t want to ever see you again.”

You could have said something then. Called out to him. Spoke sense to him. He might have even listened but you didn’t. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t try to stop him. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

He turns his back and starts to walk away but stops for a moment, turning his head slightly.

“Goodbye y/n”

[secretobsessionstuff]

the one recent anon about gentle caretaking is so so right, can you actually write something with that as a prompt for micah and alexi? both holding by the waist while the sickee is sick in the sink AND then by the forehead when it gets too intense in front of the toilet again. no scat please

I love this prompt so much and I had so much writing it! I hope you love it!! Thank you to the other anon who got this prompt started ❤

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

When Alexi went to bed at midnight, he was surprised to find the light on in the bedroom.

He had been looking forward to pulling Micah’s sleeping body closer to him as he himself fell asleep. Most nights he came to bed much later than Micah. It was their ritual. Alexi would wrap his arms around his boyfriend and fit himself perfectly into place. Half-awoken by the motion, Micah would make the cutest sound upon realizing that he was once again safe in the arms of someone who loved him.

Alexi was unusually eager for tonight’s ritual because he hardly saw his boyfriend all day. Micah was working on his manuscript non-stop to meet the upcoming deadline. The tight schedule meant that he needed to be alone. The boy was writing like he was running out of time…because he was. It was a particular exhausting stage in the process because his editor covered the document in red writing. As far as Micah was concerned, the red markups were nothing but blood—blood that marked the death of his favourite irrelevant scenes, the cleverest yet confusing lines, and the fun yet unnecessary side characters. Yes, killing your darlings is a taxing process that took all of Micah’s time and energy, and as Alexi would discover, his health.

There might as well have been an invisible Do Not Disturb sign on the bedroom door. The unyielding typing from inside the room also served as a reminder for Alexi that he couldn’t demand attention whenever he wanted it. He couldn’t just walk in and smother Micah in kisses until he did something with him. Now bedtime was Alexi’s only chance to be with Micah when he wasn’t distracted.

But the opening sentence still remains: the light was on in the bedroom.

Alexi stood confused on the other side of the door. This didn’t look like bedtime. Not hearing any typing from inside the room, he walked in to find that it looked a little bit more like bedtime. Micah was asleep, but at his desk. He wasn’t nicely tucked into bed. His head was resting on the desk next to his laptop. The screen was black.

“Micah? Alexi said quietly as he came over to his boyfriend. He clicked the space bar on the keyboard, making the screen come to life. So much red.

Micah never fully turned off the computer before falling asleep. His own sleep looked just as shallow as the computer’s. His back rose and fell sharply, and his breathing matched. He didn’t look restful at all.

“Micah, wake up, mon amour.” Alexi shook his boyfriend awake who shot up from the desk. Alexi was quick to grab hold of his shoulders. “Easy, you’re okay. You fell asleep while working.”

Micah squinted and put a hand up to the side of his head. His neck hurt from the awkward way in which he passed out. “What time is it?”

“Midnight…you never went to bed. Are you alright?” Alexi didn’t like the dazed look on his boyfriend’s face. His eyes were glassy and bloodshot, like they reflected what was on the computer screen.

“I wanted to finish the chapter,” Micah said while sinking back into the chair. His gaze sluggishly travelled to the screen. The late hour and the unfinished work made him groan and put his head in his hands. Like a slow-moving landslide, Micah dragged his hands down his face, rubbing his eyes deeply. It only irritated his already blotchy skin.

Alexi watched his over-worked boyfriend curiously. There was something romantic about a dishevelled writer. But this romanticized version did not belong on Micah. Alexi didn’t want a melancholic, candle-lit boyfriend who captured the essence of dark academia. He just wanted a boyfriend who slept well and who took care of himself.

The boy before him was not well. Alexi knew this even before touching Micah’s forehead. He knew it while he lightly traced his fingers over Micah’s cheek. He knew it for certain when he lifted Micah’s face with a hand under his chin. Micah’s laptop wasn’t the only thing overheating.

The boy’s eyelids drooped, forcing Alexi to crane his neck to make eye-contact. “Love, you need to go to bed. You’re burning up.”

“But I told Shannon I would have these chapters done by tonight.”

“Well Shannon is going to have to wait, isn’t she?” Alexi said as he grabbed Micah’s hands to help him up from the chair. Alexi quickly found himself supporting much of his weight as Micah’s head came crashing down onto Alexi’s chest. The boy let out a low moan. “I’ve got you. Are you still okay?”

“…’M dizzy.” Either Micah was having a stroke or was too tired to speak because the words came out in cursive. “…don’t feelgood.”

Micah proved his point (not that it needed more proof) by vomiting on the floor between their feet. The only reason he didn’t fall forward was that Alexi held onto his shoulders as he heaved.

“Oh gosh,” Alexi muttered under his breath. “Oh, you’re really sick, but that’s okay.” He said it so quietly that Micah wouldn’t even have heard it. He was telling himself that everything was okay.

Thankfully, Micah didn’t immediately heave up everything in his belly. The countless cups of coffee and handfuls of crackers were still nauseatingly churning in his gut. This gave him the chance to breathe and moan in pain.

He lifted his head slowly, making his tearful eyes look like pleading puppy-dog eyes. After wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he spoke with a voice so thickened by illness. “…my stomach hurts.”

Alexi allowed himself a second to feel broken-hearted by his boyfriend’s pain. Then that second was over, and he had to ease that pain just a little. “I would never have guessed it. Now, come on.”

The small intermission gave Alexi the chance to practically drag Micah to the bathroom. He could tell it wasn’t over by the way Micah kept a hand over his mouth. At least the toilet would be a better place to throw up than on the floor.

But Micah’s belly had other ideas. His sick and stubborn stomach couldn’t wait the two seconds that it would take to reach the toilet. As soon as Alexi got him to the bathroom, Micah made a sharp turn for the sink.

This round was much more productive than the last. A torrent of bitter black coffee and whatever other snacks Micah had for dinner filled the sink rather quick. Even the sight of it made Micah heave again.

As he continued to vomit, his vision blurred and blackened around the edges. Seeing the contents of his stomach was no longer the problem. The new problem was being unable to stand.

Alexi noticed the way his boyfriend leaned heavily on the counter and the way his legs wanted to give out. He switched from rubbing Micah’s back to holding him at the waist to keep him steady. It was oddly close to how he pulled Micah into his arms for their nightly ritual. This was not how he envision the night going.

“Don’t worry about holding yourself up, Micah,” Alexi said while spotting the white-knuckle grip that his boyfriend had on the edge of the sink. “I won’t let you go. I’m not leaving.”

Micah loosened his grip ever so slightly. He leaned back further against the body that kept him up.

After a few minutes of this, Alexi was startled by a change in sound. The heaving seemed to shift into choked sobs, each retch ending with a guttural moan. Eventually, Micah was left panting over the sink with saliva dripping from his lips. Actual sobs made his whole body shake. He tried not to look at himself in the mirror because he knew a dark-eyed stranger would stare back at him.

“Micah, are you…okay? Are you done?”

Micah shook his head to say no, shaking loose strings of bile that hung from his mouth. “I don’t want to do this anymore…I’m so tired, Lexi.”

Micah was tired. Tired of the stress he put upon himself. Tired of thinking that his worth came solely from his writing. He was tired of holding himself up when all he wanted was to let someone else carry the burden for a while. Alexi was so good to him. He carried the physical burden, that was Micah himself, so well. It was well past midnight now. Decades seemingly have gone by while Micah’s body broke down from the fatigue. Alexi knew that he was tired from heaving his guts up, but he was more than just physically tired. Unfortunately, Micah didn’t have the strength to tell him about the other kind. Fortunately he didn't have to.

“I know. I know, it’s exhausting.” Starting with his hands on Micah’s waist, Alexi gently trailed his fingers up the boy’s back. He felt as if there were a barrier between him and Micah. He couldn’t get as close as he wanted. All the gentle touches in the world couldn’t take away the pain. Still, Alexi didn’t take his hands away from his boyfriend, hoping that he was providing some comfort.

He also knew that touch was not the only way to offer comfort. “I know it’s exhausting to feel like you need to finish this project so that your life will have meaning. I see you everyday, working so hard to make your dreams come true. It’s tiring to do what you do. But you should know that taking a break does not mean that you’re giving up. You’re tired, I know, so sit down for a moment and lean on me.”

Micah listened. He exhaled slowly, letting the tension go from his shoulders. He let Alexi lower him to the ground, where they both sat in front of the toilet. Micah wanted to say so much, but…

He was breathing hard again. Alexi eased the pain in his mind, but the pain in his belly persisted. There was one last round before relief.

Micah’s head was heavy. Heavy with worries and pain. It was a struggle to hold his head up while another weak wave of watery vomit fell from his mouth.

Every muscle in his body wanted to betray him. His neck almost let go, but then something stopped his head from falling towards his chest. It was Alexi’s hand on his brow.

“Ugh…thank you,” Micah said breathlessly in between gags.

“I told you, I’m not leaving.” Alexi kept one hand on the boy’s forehead and the other on his back. “I’ve got you.”

And so, Micah’s stomach finally calmed down after his over-worked and under-fed body decided that was enough punishment for the mistreatment. An event like this certainly wouldn’t happen again because Alexi was going to make sure that Micah got enough sleep, and proper food, and down-time.

“Are you done?”

“Yes,” Micah said with a hint of a smile. He was already falling backwards into Alexi’s embrace.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The General (part 9): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: nothing is the way it was before. there is no future; there is no past. all there is... is nothing. 

wc: 2.1k

tw: light gore

masterlist

“She’s not gonna eat; I already told you that.” 

The sounds of Kaori and Toji fighting just outside of your door leak into your room, but you’re beyond caring. Megumi sits beside you in the sun-lit room, eyes scanning the outdoors, looking for any sign of an animal. You’re tucked underneath a warm, thick blanket, despite the temperature outside being warm enough to cause a little sweat. No, things were better this way. 

When you had come to after blacking out, Toji, Kaori, and Megumi were hovering over you, trying to figure out what to do about the General’s untimely passing. But in the two months since, no one had quite figured out how to bring you back to life. The only thing they could do is watch you slowly waste away and become a shell of your former self. 

Your parents suspect it’s because your princely husband had not sent for you since the war had ended, and you’re grieving a supposed loss. But neither Kaori nor Toji had the heart to admit that this loss wasn’t supposed. It was real. 

Your days are spent in your bed or in the garden behind the house, mind empty as Megumi attempts to watch over you and possibly even cheer you up by play-fighting with his father. But more often than not, you’re reduced to tears, and Toji fetches Kaori because he “can’t deal with crying women”. 

“My lady?” The head maid enters into your room with an orange and onigiri in her hands. “I brought you some fresh fruit from the market. Hamai sends her regards as well.” Hamai - Yuta’s sister and wife of Yuko - had also attempted to visit you, but her grief motivated her to knock on your door, and you couldn’t bear to think of Yuta or Nanami or--

“Thank you,” you croak, and she nods, handing Megumi the two onigiri. 

“Your father said you’d better eat these or he’ll never--”

“‘Feed me again’. I know,” Megumi chants monotonously and takes the rice balls from her hands. “Thank you, Kaori-san.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want any visitors?” Kaori asks for the third time. You cut your eyes to her, attempting a glare. “Hamai would love to come and--” 

“Listen, the lady said no visitors,” Toji gripes, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. “I’ve been fighting off a ton of measly looking men who have nothing to say except ‘I’ve come to see Lady y/n’ and honestly, if you invite another person to this damn place, I’ll kill them on the spot.”

You roll away from the two people and look out of the window, remaining silent as Megumi eats his onigiri and stares at the bears and tigers in his book. Kaori and Toji retreat, restarting their squabble as soon as the door closes, leaving you to think about nothing and no one. 

_______________________________________________________________________

You’re in the garden when Megumi runs up to you, holding a light pashmina to cover your shoulders in the chill of fall. 

“Careful, you might get sick,” he warns, and you accept the article with a smile. 

“Thank you, sweet one.” The child climbs onto the bench you’re seated on, swinging his legs while you stare at the shishi-odoshi in silence. You’re suddenly reminded of the three other sweet children you left back at the camp, and before you can begin to sob out loud, your hand flies to your mouth. 

“Hey,” Toji appears from the house, hands deep in his pockets as he surveys the area. “You alright?” 

“Just fine,” you whisper, pushing back tears and grief all at once. “I just needed some peace and quiet.” 

“Yeah, gardens will give you that.” Toji stands beside the fountain and stares into the water for a moment before turning to Megumi. “There’s a frog out by the lake if you’re interested in--” Megumi hops down from the bench and disappears around the corner in a flash, abandoning you without a worry in the world. You sigh, watching him fade into the distance, and then turn to Toji, who is already staring at you with some unreadable expression. 

“What is it?” you grumble, blinking slowly. 

“Nothing, just…” Toji presses his lips together and looks sky-ward, thinking about his next words carefully. “I know you feel like everyone in the whole world can fuck off since Geto died… but have you ever considered moving on?” You tilt your head to the side, wondering if Toji really ever listened to himself talk. “I mean, yeah this shit is painful, but…” Toji rubs his neck and looks away from you and back to the fountain. “You have to move on at some point.” 

“He told me to wait for him,” you explain, wrapping the pashmina a little tighter and squinting at the shapes in the pool. “I’m going to do just that.”

“Y/n, he’s dead… what good will waiting do? Will you wait your whole life?” 

Your head snaps to Toji and you curl your lip up in disgust. 

“You’ve never loved anyone in this world but yourself and your money,” you spit, standing from your seated position so fast that Toji takes a half-step back. “I don’t imagine that you’d know what I’m talking about.” 

“That’s not true,” he retorts, frowning. “I’m trying to help you, that’s all. I’d hate to see you waste away over a man who can’t even survi--” The pashmina falls from your shoulders as your hand makes contact with his face, the echo of the slap scaring a flock of birds from the surrounding trees into the sky. 

“Speak ill of Geto again, and I’ll make sure those words are your last.” Toji doesn’t touch his bruised cheek as you stomp off, watching you retreat back into the house as he realizes that he let you slap him. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Screams haunt your sleep, fire burns the camp, and you’re running away, holding hands with the children as you dash into the forest. Geto is behind you, fighting off some unknown assailant, but you instinctively know how the dream is going to end.

You trip and fall over a root of a tree, but you yell at the children to escape. They continue running, not sparing you a second glance, but you turn around just as Geto is stabbed through the chest by a spear and falls with his back to the ground.  His head tilts back and he makes eye contact with you, blood pouring out of his mouth as he chokes:

“Wait for me.”

You shoot up in the bed and stumble out of your room through the sliding door that leads to the garden, sweat pouring down your neck and back as you sink to your knees. Your stomach heaves once, twice, depositing yellow bile into the bushes beside the house. The sun is barely up, and as you dry heave, you hear another door sliding open, Toji then Kaori tumbling out of your back door. 

“Poison,” Toji grunts, but Kaori pushes him aside before he can get to you. 

“No, she didn’t even eat anything before bed,” she states, rubbing your back with her cool hands. Your skin clams up as a breeze rolls across the garden, and you shudder violently before your teeth begin to chatter. “Toji, a blanket.” 

“Isn’t that your job?” he gripes, but walks into the house to grab a blanket anyways. When the cloth resta against your back, you feel a little better, but the feeling in your stomach won’t go away. 

“My Lady… talk to me. What’s the matter?” 

“Go,” you shake Kaori off, not wanting to repeat the events of your dream. 

“It’s probably because she didn’t eat,” Toji groans, the stairs squeaking under his weight. “I’ll get her a --” 

“Both of you. Go.” You look up at Toji, mustering your sternest look, and aiming the same expression at Kaori, who walks away from you, head hung low. 

You stay in the garden as true morning crests over the sky, lying on the bench under the bare cherry blossom tree while the skies turn into pinks and yellows, and reds. The image of Geto’s bloodied face wouldn’t depart from your memory and you feel the ache even deeper than before. The ache intensifies until it feels like all of you is just one large hole, throbbing with need and grief.

Nothing could save you. 

No one was coming back for you. 

They were all dead, and there was nothing left of the people you had grown to love and care for. 

It isn’t until your mother walks into the garden that you realize you might have missed your breakfast of an orange and water, but she comes bearing the fruit and you’re set back at ease. You wordlessly allow your mother to sit beside you, lifting your head so it rests in her lap snugly. She pats your hair gently, then inhales deeply, speaking in her normal soft tones. 

“Kaori told me you were sick last night,” she begins, and you nod as if she had asked a question and not stated a fact. “Ever since Geto Suguru died, you’ve been awfully sullen. One might think you had been with him the whole time and not at the Imperial Palace.” You glance up at your mother, and she winks at you. “Don’t worry; I won’t tell your father.” 

“How did you know?” you wonder, and she smiles, wrinkles forming at the edges of her mouth. 

“Well first, whoever the General gets to write his letters needs to brush up on their penmanship,” she laughs, then shrugs. “But it was your face the day that the General was announced dead that I saw you change. It only took me a few days to realize that you were in mourning, not upset that your prince hadn’t sent for you.” 

“Mother, I--” 

“You had every right to keep it a secret, although I wish you hadn’t. It would’ve made my interrogation of Toji much easier.” You imagine your own mother - all of five-foot-four, standing up to the massive Fushiguro with a finger to his chest - and you can’t help but chuckle. “Whatever the General did, I haven’t seen you glowing like you did when you returned since you were a little girl. I’ll have to find a way to thank him for that.” 

You choke out a deep sob, closing your eyes as you think of the lack of tribute, the lack of a funeral, the missing images of him that won’t return to your memory. 

“Though Toji takes good care of you. I haven’t seen that man slack off on his job once since after the announcement. He’s also been very helpful with your father. You know, he would ma--” 

“Lady y/n!” Kaori sprints out of the home, and you both look up to see her flustered expression, wondering what would have her so worked up this early in the morning. “There was a messenger from the Imperial Palace in the square!” she stops in front of you, panting heavily. “The Emperor… has fallen�� ill.” When she catches her breath, the head maid can finally finish her statement, and she exhales deeply. “As is custom, his eldest son will be taking a tour of the country. And he’s named this village as his final stop, with your house as his resting place for the time he is here. He’ll be in the village in a fortnight.” You sit up, eyeing the maid carefully. 

Pieces of a puzzle begin to click together in your mind.

“His eldest son is Prince Naoya, correct?” 

“Yes, my lady.” As if sensing your premature plan, Kaori looks you dead in the eyes, daring you to do what she imagines you are already thinking of. 

“And you said a fortnight?” Your mother butts in, squinting her eyes.

“Yes.” 

“Fourteen days to prepare.” you whisper, lifting your head out of your mother’s lap and retreating to the house to find the eldest Fushiguro. Kaori enters behind you, grabbing your elbow before you can open his guest room door.

“What you’re thinking of is suicide,” she hisses, but you shrug. 

“What better way to rejoin Geto than to kill his murderer and then die myself?” you retort, but she slaps a hand over the gap between the wall and the door, blocking you from entering. 

“This isn’t what he would want,” Kaori pleads. “Please, think about what he said.”

“I cannot wait for a dead man, Kaori. Now, let me go.” You yank free from her grasp and enter the guest room, eyeing a lazy Toji lounging by the window. “I need your help.” 

He rolls his head around to look at you and raises a brow. “With what, my lady?” 

“I need to kill a prince in two weeks. Think you can help me with that?” 

“You mean treason?” Toji sits up, letting the book he held in his hands drop to his bed, and hums thoughtfully. “Killing a prince as revenge… putting the Imperial Court into chaos… yeah, I think I can help you with that.”

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