#but too late....it has awoken.....the inner princess....

[lollytea]

tee hee <3

YYYYYOOOUUUUUUU!!!!!

[midnightmoonkiss]

Painful Stings & Sweet Apologies

Yandere! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: Rage fueled by failure, Izuku finds comfort in a bar, only to come home to a broken promise and a furious darling. He didn’t mean for this to happen.

WARNINGS!: blood, violence, alcohol (Izuku under the influence)

Category: Angst, one-sided fluff

Word Count: 9k+

A/N: This is my first yandere fic! I’m nervous as hell, I have no idea if I got this right lol. Though I did spend months perfecting it to the best of my abilities! Hope you enjoy~

Just To Clarify:

You’re both adults

It’s Friday

It’s cold and rainy (naturally--)

Izuku’s bedroom has a walk in closet and a bathroom

the kitchen is off-limits

THIS IS A YANDERE FIC!

Izuku is an obsessive yandere~

Cold, burning liquid rushed down the male’s throat as he gulped at the drink within the short glass.

Whiskey, or more specifically - a Jack Daniels, the honey-brown alcohol that delivered a bitter slap to all those who drank its refreshing nectar. 

It wasn’t his usual drink, and certainly not one he’d ever guzzle like a parched beast.

Hell, who in their right mind would do that? Even with a single sip, it left your chest burning with its heat.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

Or, more of, self-loathing times call for a quick, one-way ticket to Forget-Me Ville and Cringe Island.

The bar he sat at was lively, filled with drunken laughter and slurred speeches of men and women who have been out for far too long.

But it was Friday night, so who cared?

A rainy, cold, sucky, depressing Friday night, one of which his friends tried to make a bit better by taking the pissed off, green-haired hero out for drinks.

They certainly hadn’t expected Izuku, an innocent little guy who couldn’t handle his liquor for shit, to shoot down an entire glass of whiskey.

At first, he ordered a simple beer - a starter drink if you will.

It didn’t take but ten minutes for him to gulp that glass down, and he was onto his next drink - a sangria wine cooler. His typical drink. He always was more of a fruity guy, after all, preferring the sweet tang over the bitter bite.

But as the night raged on, and so did his inner turmoil, he kept ordering stronger and stronger drinks, until he got to the whiskey. You could say he lost his sense of reason a while ago.

He was still seething with rage, not as much as before but the mixture of anger and frustration swirled hotly with the alcohol pumping through his veins and sitting in his belly.

You could say it was keeping him warm in this lifeless atmosphere.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t think of you, his precious little darling. He could barely think straight, mind occupied with too many thoughts to be able to understand any of them. It was all a garbled mess, one he chose to ignore.

Was that a good or a bad thing? He’d find out later.

But for now?

He needed another drink.

In the beginning, this Friday seemed like it was going to be one of the best he’ll ever have.

For months this pro hero has been working alongside detectives with catching a murderous villain known by the name “Ghoul.”

They were sick and twisted, their motives unknown, their trail hard to tract.

He had only one encounter with them, but he was too late to catch them.

That’s the day he was brought in to help aid the case.

But, that day haunted him for weeks. He knew that if he had arrived at the bloody scene sooner, he could have captured that cannibalistic fuck, brought justice to those who had already died by their mangy hands.. and prevented the deaths that would ensue after.

He’d known horrible villains before, but this one was different. Their teeth were sharp, blood permanently stained their clothes, and they gave off a wolfish vibe. Yes, a hunter. One who tore flesh from human bones and munched on it until someone screamed in terror for help.

For months he helped gather intel, piece puzzle pieces together, aid with location predictions and stakeout missions, until finally - they found that bastard.

It was more of a hunch than anything really, that Ghoul would show up to that site.

Ghoul, while hard to track, left a pattern in their wake. They avoided certain areas, thrived where the poor were at their weakest. The murders always seemed to happen at the exact same time behind run-down fast-food restaurants.

It was unclear if the sicko liked a hearty human meal with their victims own stomachs filled with greasy, fattening food, or if it was just convenient to them, either way - the perp was too damn sloppy.

To regular ol’ police personnel, the murders would just always happen there, behind restaurants.

But after Deku’s team began tracking where each and every murder occurred, it was quite easy to tell they were drawing, funnily enough, a circle around the city’s map.

It was stupid, childish, and downright idiotic, but damn if that didn’t lead the team to find the cold-blooded killer.

Adrenaline and pure hatred for the villain fueled Deku’s onslaught of attacks, each seemingly more powerful and less calculated. His mind was muddled.

He was filled with rage, finally being able to see the shitty excuse of a human again, but it affected his movements. He was being hasty, careless, not his usual calculated self.

And that’s what brought him his demise.

His shoulder was harshly bitten, razor-sharp teeth tearing through the fabric of his suit and shredding up the skin on his shoulder. Their quirk pumped through his blood instantly, making him collapse onto his knees, paralyzed. He hissed in pain as the sickeningly warm liquid flowed down his arm, unable to stop himself from face planting onto the dirty gravel of the alleyway.

He had lost, and Ghoul got away.

He still remembers it, after all, it was only hours ago that it happened.

The sun had long since set, the crescent moon hung high in the sky as her stars shimmered around her. His wound was stitched up and healed by doctors, leaving only a bitter scar to remind him of his failure.

He failed not only himself but those who counted on him.

God, he sucked.

And so, he ordered another drink.

He wanted to forget. He didn’t want to feel the failure sting at his fragile heart anymore.

It was too much to take.

What type of hero let the villain get away, knowing full well that they would kill again?

They couldn’t track Ghoul’s trail anymore, for the circle had been completed - and they were left with nothing with the numbing feeling of brutal loss.

Hours blurred together as his mind went hazy. His speech slurred together, dull, green eyes unfocused and mouth blabbering out nonsense to his friends that he couldn’t even really hear. It just- came out. 

Soon enough, he was being dragged out of the bar by his annoyingly sober friends.

The night had gotten colder since they first entered the warm bar, rain pelted down like freezing bullets flying from a machine gun. A dirty old awning kept them dry as they stood still at the front of the bars entrance, the loud music bouncing off the walls inside echoed down the empty streets.

Heavy streams of salty rainwater poured off the edge of the awning, splattering down into a mud puddle that emptied into the sewer grate below.

Who doesnt love the musty stench of rain on asphalt?

Hell, the smell itself, combined with the strong yet savory scent of the Korean barbeque joint across the street was enough to make him nauseous. He had drank far too much, and his stomach was suffering the consequences. He should have eaten more before drinking. How foolish.

 “It’s pretty late, you should head home.” Reasoned his best friend, Todoroki, puffs of condensation leaving his mouth as the warm breath met cold air, pressing a freezing hand to the back of the freckled boy's sweaty neck to jolt his drowsy, drunken self into a more alert state. Nothing but time could sober you up, but damn if that hand didn’t help slap some energy into him.

“Yeaahh, ye-yeahhh.. I gooht you Todooroe.” God, he sounded like someone high on anesthesia after being awoken from a surgery - which he definitely would be able to compare this experience to. Being a hero meant at least a few surgeries a year. Comes with the job.

Plus, this wasn’t the first time he’s been drunk.

He sure as hell hated the aftermath, but some nights it felt as if the hot burn of alcohol was the only thing that could keep him sane.

This was just one of those nights - or perhaps it was multiple nights slammed into one from just how stupidly drunk he was. The world was blurred, and Izuku doubted he could even walk straight at this point.

The half and half hero waved down a stray taxi, street water splashing up onto the sidewalk as the yellow vehicle came to a screeching halt.

“Get home safe.” Todoroki sighed out his nose at seeing his friends out-of-it state, helping the giddy and jelly-like hero into the back seat.

Izuku pouted, grabby hands clinging onto his friend's shirt in protest.

With a half-hearted chuckle, Todoroki pried himself free from his grip, handing the cab driver more than enough yen to get the drunk boy home.

He gave the taxi driver an address, and soon the car was rolling off down the street, Izukus flushed face pressed against the cold, fogging glass and staring with eyes full of tears at his friend.

Though, it seemed as if he had forgotten a promise he made to someone very important to him. Someone who he devoted his entire life to.

Someone who he risked everything for.

You.

His princess who had been locked in a small, dark room all day, wrists tightly cuffed to loose chains on the wall. The only light provided was a rusty oil lamp Izuku had gotten at a yard sale one day. The flame was dull, and left the room covered in shadows.

The tile below was as cold as it had been since the morning when Izuku had forcefully chained you there for misbehaving the night before.

You had deserved this punishment for disobeying him.

That’s what he tried to convince, anyway.

He was only trying to keep you safe! He hated punishing you, hated the way you thrashed and screamed at him in protest - that only meant he had to be rougher with you. You had broken into the most dangerous room in the apartment, afterall.

The kitchen.

There were far too many harmful objects in there!

Knives that could slice your delicate skin to shreds, forks that could jab into your body, hot stoves that could leave you with a nasty burn, and canned food stored too high up on the shelf that could fall and hit your head.. It was for your protection that the kitchen was off-limits to you!

Plus, Izuku, your oh-so kind and sweet boyfriend, had no problem with cooking you meals to eat together. In fact, he loved it!

He felt accomplished whenever you'd hum in approval at his cooking, or even turned on if that slutty mouth of yours just so happened to moan around your utensil. 

Those were the nights dinner was forgotten.

But you had been foolish, entering the kitchen for a midnight snack whilst Izuku was out on patrol. Your sneaky little self thought you were clever, leaving no trace of your betrayal.

Until you were awoken hours later by a green glow, blood running cold as a pair of murderous neon eyes stared into yours.

It had to be one of the scariest sights to date.

His pupils were shrunk, green electricity buzzing around his large body. He hovered over your trembling body, a wrapper in between his two gloved fingers.

He was so close, your noses brushed together.

You swore he could see into your soul, as well as see the fear in your (E/C) eyes.

“What is this, (Y/N)?” He had asked innocently, hurt coating his words.

“I-” you wanted to make an excuse, protest, say it wasn’t yours, but every single letter died on your tongue as his face pressed closer, a sadistic smile overtaking his features.

“You didn’t.. You didn’t go into the kitchen, did you?”

His hot, minty breath blew all over your face as he spoke, and you shriveled back in fear as insanity crossed his expression in that way you were far too familiar with.

The giggles bubbled in his throat as he tried to fight logic with delusion, “It wasn’t you, right? Someone broke in, didn’t they? You wouldn’t break my trust, would you?”

His voice was cracking, fingers digging into the flesh of the bed beneath you as his eye began to twitch.

He stared down at you, curly green hair brushing against the sides of your face, waiting far too long for an answer he would never get. His bottom lip wobbled, feat tears welling up in his eyes and falling onto your pale cheeks as his body shook with anger and sadness.

He was already stressed about the following mornings mission, and to come home to his princess betraying his trust was not something he enjoyed.

And so, you were punished.

But he had promised you wouldnt be locked in there for long, he knew how you feared the dark. He had conditioned you to fear it, after all. It was his greatest accomplishment.

You were always so willing to cuddle into him when the lights were off.

A few hours turned into nearly an entire day, the only indication you had of this was past experiences, skin around your wrists rubbed raw from the metal cuffs, and the unusual sting of your ass and bare legs burning from the freezing tile beneath you.

That was the least of your worries, though.

Worst of all - the flame, which was holding you together and keeping you from crying out for help to those who might hear you in this soundproof room, which would no doubt get you a harsher punishment, was about to die out.

That flame, albeit small, was your only hope of surviving this.

Izuku was typically a very reliable person, it was strange for him to not keep his word to you. He devoted his being to you, worshipped the ground you regrettably walked upon, why would he break his own promise?

The thought of being trapped in the dark, the echo of your chains taunting your delirious mind had you close to tears. You didn’t want to be alone here anymore.

You watched in horror as the flame got smaller and smaller, tears now rolling down your cheeks as you pleaded under your breath for it to last longer.

The air vents around you provided enough oxygen for it to survive, but that damn oil..

Where was he?! 

Suddenly, the door to his apartment flew open, giggles seeping through the house and teasing your ears.

Then, there was no more light.

A screech tore from your throat, a desperate call of his name as you thrashed around, tears pouring from your eyes.

You felt as if you couldnt breathe as your head whipped around the space, desperate for more air and light as your lungs seemed to scream.

You couldnt feel the cold chill of the floor anymore, body numb as adrenaline pumped through your veins.

What was in the dark?

How big was this space again?

Rather, how small was it?

What was that noise?

Did something just touch you?

There was wind, there was wind, no. A cold chill?

Oh god what was that-

Loud, clumsy footsteps made their way closer and closer to the locked metal door. You sobbed as your heard the jingle of keys, metal scraping against metal as he fumbled with inserting them into the lock.

Until finally, you were basked in the honey-dew glow of the bedroom.

You fought to control your breathing as he dropped to his knees, taking far too long for your liking to get the cuffs off.

But at least now you know why he took so god damn long.

You could smell the putrid miasma of alcohol wafting off him the moment he stepped into the darkroom, tainted with the salty effluvium of rainwater as it dripped onto your skin from his damp, messy hair.

Rage bubbled inside you as he giggled once more at your tear-stained cheeks, “D-did yoou miss mee?” He slurred, a giddy smile on his face as the stale stench of what he had been drinking all night circled around your head like a rotten wreath.

Instead of answering, like you knew you should have, you turned your head towards the door, soaking in the light you were previously deprived of. Even if it was just a mere minute.

At your silence, his smile quickly turned into a frown. Big, forestry green eyes welled up with sadness, bottom lip trembling, “(Y-Y/N)?” He couldnt help but reach out, scarred fingers wishing to wipe away those stray tears from your face.

You missed him.

That’s why you were crying, surely.

He wanted to comfort you, say that he was there now and that you could both cuddle until twinkling dawn.

You weren’t alone anymore.

He was all you needed, and he was right beside you.

He’ll always be there for you, and you’ll always be there for him.

Because you love each other.

“D-Don’t cry-”

His cold hand was smacked away, and his usually sturdy body was shoved back so that you could scramble out of the freezing closet.

You needed space.

More room to breath.

To be on flooring that didnt feel like ice cutting into your flesh.

Hell, you were sure the skin that had the unholy misfortune of touching the floor were burned red at this point from how long you had to sit there.

Not to mention your poor wrists, you couldnt even bear the sight of them being so raw. You were pretty sure they would bleed if you even touched them. Your body was screaming in pain, stomach growing for food, mouth parched from not being given water so that you wouldnt make a mess on the floor.

You were weak, shaking, and afraid.

That bastard had the gall to say not to cry, to look concerned when he knew damn well how much you absolutely despised the dark.

At first it was a childish fear, but the moment he snatched you from your regular life, that fear became a reality. There were countless nights you’d be punished by being left alone in the dark.

He didnt want to hurt you, no, and he never has, but damn if he hasnt conditioned you to be afraid. 

Storms were the worst.

What was once a peaceful white noise turned into a terrifying nightmare once the moon rose in the sky.

There were times you were locked in that closet during violent storms, screaming and begging to be let out.

Sometimes you were, other times you werent as lucky.

Though it was only raining right now, each pitter-patter of the droplets against the window or balcony made hairs on your neck stand up. The sound was previously muted in the closet, but now it was hitting you like a freight train on a track that never seemed to end.

You heard him scramble to his feet as you wiped your tears away, the creak of the floorboards as he stumbled towards you.

A subtle bang made you jump, his foot no doubt hitting the chest at the end of your bed. Everso the clumsy one, even in an illuminated room.

Suddenly, he was right behind you, arms wrapping tightly around your middle as his head dropped to your shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against your neck.

Perhaps it would have been pleasant, comforting, even, if he wasnt soaked to the bone. The cold water from his dark grey, long-sleeved sweater was now seeping into your own thin clothes, freezing wet hair sending shivers down your spine and it presses against your heated, sensitive skin. Some drops even went down your back, ripping a gasp from you.

This wasnt comforting at all.

This was suffocating.

You squirmed in his grasp, desperate to get the hell away from him.

You were already pissed, and him wrapping around you and squeezing you tight like a snake to its prey was the cherry on top of your disastrous sundae.

With a grunt, you used the rest of what little strength you had left to rip yourself free from his ‘hug,’ nearly tripping on your own two feet as you rushed away from him.

He pouted at you as you shoved yourself into a corner of the room, finding comfort in being able to see all around you, no surprise attacks from behind, only what was in front of you.

Your breath was heavy as you glared at him, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching.

Truly, you had some nerve.

But it was hard to help it.

He broke a promise.

He never does that, and yet in your time of need- he wasn’t there for you.

For once.

He knew damn well you were locked up, scared shitless, expecting him to return home in a few short hours, yet here he is - looking absolutely clueless as to why you were suddenly so angry at him.

Tears streamed down his drunkenly flushed cheeks, hurt by how you shoved him away again.

All he wanted to do was snuggle you, his body exhausted yet numbed by the alcohol still burning in his tummy.

“Where..” you started, voice low, scratchy, and dripping with venom that reached deaf ears. “Where have you been!”

Just as he was about to open that mouth of his, no doubt about babble nearly incoherently - form logical excuses with evidence to back him up, say he lost track of time which you know damn well he never did, you shut him up.

You hated dealing with him when he was drunk, hell - you hated dealing with his obsessive ass most days.

But drunk? Drunk he got worse. He was clingy, more emotional, and worst of all? He didn’t have a filter.

He always managed to hide those more sinister desires under that sweet mask of his - until alcohol brought it out.

God, the smell of it made you sick to your stomach, but luckily you didn't have any food to throw up.

No thanks to him.

“What the fuck, Midoriya?!” You leered at him, noticing quickly the way his eyes darkened in that way they always did when you referred to him by his family name - the name he hated being called by you of all people.

“I’ve been trapped in that room all goddamn day! You said it’d be a few hours? What the hell happened to that! Look at the fucking time! Nine hours! Nine hours I’ve been stuck in my own personal hell! I can’t feel my fucking legs because of you!”

“I-” he attempted to start, the firm grip he had on his sanity quickly loosening with every shout you threw at him.

You cut him off, again, pent up rage now overtaking your sense of reason and fear, “What the hell happened?! You know what! I don’t even care! Not only did you,” You pointed a trembling finger at his stilled body, “break a promise! Something you swore you would never fucking do, you also had the nerve at laugh at me as I was trembling in fear!”

You looked like a mess, body shaking and bent over itself, one arm clutched around your waist as if to hold yourself together as that accusing finger stayed trained on him. Your hair was messy, frizzy, soaked with sweat and oily as hell from being denied a shower. Your clothes, thin and girly - much to your utter distaste, but to his satisfaction - now damp thanks to his carelessness.

All of this was because of him.

It always was.

Every single thing that went wrong in your life always seemed to be because of him nowadays.

You couldnt believe you let yourself fall for that misleading smile all those years ago, only to end up like this.

A mouse in a lions den.

But hell if that would stop you from squeaking your heart out till his razor-sharp claws ultimately caged you back in.

“Do you see my wrists?!” with a strangled sob, you held up both of your arms to show him the mess he already knew was his fault, “look at them! They hurt so fucking much because you left me in those disgusting handcuffs! This is all your fault!”

Your knees were wobbling so bad you swore your legs would give out at any second, but you’d be damned if you didnt hold your ground to this lunatic.

True, some days he was nice, normal, even. But days like these, or days much worse, you were reminded of just who he really was.

A monster was stretching it. He never intentionally tried to hurt you, your friends, or even your family.

No, he just stole you from your apartment in the dead of night, convinced the reason you were crying was because of the thunderstorm and not because some psycho snatched you from your window like some sort of 1970’s movie trope. That night he cradled your thrashing body to his hard chest with his strong arms, cooing at you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you begged to be let go. You were just scared of the storm~ He would keep you safe~ He is the number one hero, afterall~

That was all utter bullshit, straight from the beginning.

And even now he was still wrapped in the delusion that you loved him as much as he loved you.

A fated pair.

Please.

But you still held on to the pathetic hope that one day he’d snap out of it, return to the Izuku you knew from the beginning and not the person who now stood a few feet in front of you, staring with cold, emotionless eyes.

“I’m sorry.” he says impassively, face as blank as a new canvas - unreadable and dangerous in every way imaginable. It was hard not to feel as if he was just waiting to strike, already calculating his next moves like he always seemed to do. It was far easier to deal with an angry Izuku than one where you couldn’t read his already complex emotions, thoughts, anything. He was the definition of expressive, and it truly took a fuckin bullet to the back of his head for him to be like this.

So clearly, you hit a nerve.

Wonderful.

“Oh?” Despite knowing the implications of the situation you found yourself in, it was impossible not to laugh at such a pathetic fucking apology.

Knowing him, he probably was sorry, deep down inside. You knew he didn’t like seeing you hurt, especially if it was because of his doing, and yet- you pressed on. 

Pent up anger was a nasty thing to deal with, especially since it’s been brewing inside you for so long.

���Are you now? You don’t fucking seem sorry! If you were really sorry, you wouldnt have done it! But look where we are! You’re such a fucking-!”

“Shut up.” he growls out borderline maliciously, stumbling slightly as he turns to walk out the door. He was clearly fed up, his strong hands clenched into threatening fists, but so were you. Even if you were undeniably frightened to confront him, you wouldn't let that stop you from pushing yourself off the wall - your safe space - and wobbling after him.

“Look at you! You can’t even walk right! How drunk are you, huh? Washing away your feelings again, are you? What about my feelings! Huh?!”

You were pushing it.

You really were.

The entire house felt it, the air chillingly still as Izuku had to grind his teeth together so as to not lash out at you. 

He didn’t want to.

That was the last thing he wanted to do, but all that stress and self-hatred previously washed away was coming back up to the burning surface that cages his discretion.

Heavy breaths blew out his nostrils as he made his way to the living room, desperate for you to get the hint from his hunched over body that he wanted you to fuck off.

Yeah, he messed up, deep down he knew he did but currently his mind was far too clogged to even begin to comprehend it.

You were like an annoying mosquito, your words morphing into a persistent buzz.

He was ignoring you, and that made you livid.

He always ignored you when your problems were deemed irrelevant, or when he found you were being far too vexatious.

He always did this, always.

You were trapped in a cell with some asshole who didn't even want to listen to you.

Obviously, you had enough.

Typically you’d back off, go fume in another room or punch the wall till the skin around your knuckles tore open and dripped blood everywhere, making him snap out of whatever state he was in just to suffocate you in his toxic love.

Oh how life proved to be full of surprises.

A low growl of your own slithered passed your teeth, eyes practically burning red as if you prayed you had a quirk that could do something against him.

“You’re a selfish bastard! You fucking piss-poor excuse of a hero-!”

SLAP!

A shrill scream tore from your raw throat, the echo of skin burning against skin dizzying you as you were thrown back onto the floor.

Boiling hot tears streamed down your face as you sobbed out of pure fear, body shaking uncontrollably and you shuffled backward, desperate to get yourself as far away from him as you could currently manage.

It had all happened so fast, you didn't even have time to register it as it occurred.

One moment his hands were gripping the back of the couch with such strength you could see his knuckles turn a ghostly white, and the next, crackling, neon-green lightning surrounded his body, illuminating the dim apartment in a slimy glow. Before you even had a chance to register just what happened, he whipped his head around, his eyes, typically blown wide with sickening love and sparkling under delusional illusions, were narrowed and glowing in a way that sent shivers of immense regret down your spine. His arm whipped back with his hand, the very hand that delivered a painfully paralyzing slap.

He always spoke with his hands, and you just happened to be too close to him at that moment.

The reddended skin of your cheek burned, and you swore you could feel more than just tears streaming down it.

You were stuck shaking on the floor, imaginary bile rising in your throat, and all you could do was stare at him with wide, bloodshot and terrified eyes.

He had never laid a hand on you like that before, you didnt know what to think.

He always promised to do you no intentional harm, to never lay a finger on you with intentions of making you cry out in pain.

He had never acted so feral and out of line before.

It.. it scared you in a way you never felt before.

The gap between you grew, you really were just a mouse trembling in a lion's den.

“P-princess-” he shakily called out, voice weak and uneven, quirk diminishing into thin air like it never was there in the first place.

His own eyes were wide and filled with immense regret, tears already pouring down his flushed, freckled face.

He took one step forward, and you scrambled back, hand coming up to touch at your cheek, shock making you feel faint at the sight of blood coating your trembling fingertips.

You felt sick once again, empty stomach feeling as if it was collapsing in on itself to push even the tiniest bit of nonexistent food out.

You didnt know what to do.

Choking on your own sobs, you tried desperately to shuffle away from him, but he only came closer.

You cried out the moment he dove at you, your hands clasped together tightening against your chest as if to hold yourself together as this bear of a man wraps his arms cold, soaked arms protectively around you, his large shoulders violently shaking as he buried his snotty, tear stained face deep into your unruly tresses.

The stench of alcohol burned your nostrils, edging you on to try and push his heavy chest away. You tried, but you failed miserably, resulting in his arms pulling you even closer to his sweaty and damp body. It was disgusting.

“L-let go of me!” you wailed, your own tears stinging your eyes as your vision blurred and you could no longer tell just what you were staring blindly at, the dimness of the living-room paired with the suffocating embrace of your captor swallowing you whole.

You couldnt take it.

You could barely breathe at this point.

“p-p-ple .. plea-s-se..!” your cries intertwined with his own desperate ones as he babbled nearly incoherently on about how sorry he was, how he never meant to do something so horrible.

“I’m not a monster!” he howled out, desperate words seeping with ululation.

He was desperately trying to convince himself of that.

He wasn’t talking to you at all.

He was talking to himself.

He wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t a monster.

He’s not like him.

He’s not like that piece of filth.

No, he’s so much better.

He’s a good man.

No, no, he’s not a monster.

He’s your hero.

He could never purposely harm you.

No.

It was an accident.

An accident.

You’d understand.

He knew you would!

You always understood him.

You were like two peas in a pod!

You forgave him, surely.

Yes.

Yes!

You did the moment he hugged you, the moment he started comforting you.

He was a good man.

How could you not forgive him?

He loved you so, so, so much.

You knew that-

You knew he would never do such a thing.

His breathing was even, eyes wide and straining as he stared at the floor, a crooked smile on his face as he repeated the words over and over again in his twisted mind.

He never met to hurt you.

No.

He didnt.

“Plea-” you tried once more, biting your wobbling lip as he squeezed you even tighter.

“No, no, no, no, no, no..” he heaved out, hand coming up to gently pet your oily hair as if to calm you. His head shook back and forth in your hair, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m so sorry, honey.”

There was nothing you could do.

You were stuck alone in a mouse trap, the cold, metallic bar snapped down on top of your frail neck.

There was no escape.

There never was.

His form of ‘love’ far too strong for you to even attempt to.

And so, you gave up. 

Just like you always did.

There was no point in resisting him.

Sticky blood trickles down your raw cheek, dripping down onto the chilled bare skin of his neck, still cold from the damp clothes he wore, instantly catching his wondering attention.

“You.. you’re bleeding?” he whispered guiltily, already feeling a new wave of salty tears building up in the corner of his eyes.

His large left hand trailed up the skin of your neck, idly collecting the thin trail of red liquid onto his fingertips and smearing a path up to your jawline, stopping the moment your shivering form flinched.

He frowned at the red mark taking up half your beautifully innocent face, a small cut resting in the middle of it where no doubt the ring he foolishly wore as an accessory swiped.

Guilt made his stomach churn, the familiar burn of acid rising in his throat.

A deep inhale, and he swallowed it down, arm still wrapped around you, languidly rubbing your back as he stared with nothing short of pity at your wrecked state.

Your lips wobbled, holding in a reply as you force yourself to look into the vast abyss of darkness that was the hallway of your apartment instead of his orbs gleaming with concern.

Concern.

Concern for something he caused.

At least he had a heart, but you were still scared shitless and wanted nothing more than to run away. You were still fighting to regulate your breathing.

His thumb suddenly pressed against the slap mark, ripping a yelp from your throat as your head flung back to avoid any more contact. It was then that you noticed a pounding headache echoing inside your skull, yet another reason to aid in the water running down your face. Pain consumed your body, and you wanted nothing more than to escape this shell you were trapped in.

Openly chewing on his lip, both of his arms went back around you, cradling your delicate form to his chest.

Without a word, he stood up, practically forcing you to have to wrap your bare legs around his waist to keep yourself steady, something you were trained to do by him. He loved it when your legs were around his waist whenever he picked you up.

It became a regrettable second nature.

Heavy foot steps brought you back to your bedroom, and then into the bathroom connected to it.

Your fears crept up your spine at the pitch black room you were forced into, remembering how you were in a similar position just a few minutes ago.

When would this cycle end?

Ah. 

It wouldnt, would it?

You were set delicately down atop the cold marble counter as if you were a fragile piece of glass, which, in many ways, you were. The tears had at least stopped, but your body continuously shook like a chihuahua, your breathing still hard to control as fumbled around mindlessly with your fingers to serve as a distraction.

He flipped the light on, momentarily blinding your sensitive gaze with its bright light.

Sniffing, you wiped at your nose, watching as he walked about the bathroom, grabbing a wash cloth just to run it under cool water. The rain was still heavily pouring just outside the wall mixed with the loud splatters of the stream against the white sink. It would have been calming had cold water not splashed up onto your bare thighs, making goosebumps prickle along your skin. Your thighs were nearly numb at this point.

After ringing most of the water out, he held it up to your cheek, staring at you.

Taking the cue, you hesitantly took the cool, wet cloth from his grasp and gingerly pressed it to the swelling skin on your face. You hiss out in pain, dry sobs wracking your body at the stinging pain and the fact that he was still far too close for you to currently handle.

The pain on your cheek paired with the numbing cold was a good distraction.

You chewed on your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut, freehand gripping tightly at the hem of your shirt as you listen to him fumble around in the cabinet hanging over to the left.

You jumped the moment you felt his larger fingers ghost over the ones holding the cloth to your cheek, cautious (E/C) eyes opening ever so slightly as you looked over at him.

You couldnt help but feel idiotic as you suddenly felt flustered at the intense gaze he was giving you, eyes now gleaming viridescent in the white light of the bathroom almost staring right into your soul.

It was like he was reading you, pulling words off your own frail pages just so he could recite them to you.

He did this often.

Keeping silent, staring for long periods of times as he tried out scenarios in his head of the words he was going to say.

It gave you chills, but yet, it made you feel like you were the center of his drifting attention.

The sun his planets revolve tirelessly around, repeating the same cycles like a record forever skipping on repeat.

In these moments, though, he became an enigma.

Not exactly something your fragile state of mind entirely needed right now.

You shivered when his palm came to cup your soft jawline, thumb absentmindedly tracing over your parted lips.

His mouth opened, ready to say something, but he stayed quiet.

Mouth shutting, he leaned forward, tentatively bringing you into another hug.

“I’m sorry.” he repeated, the words nearly as quiet as your stilled breath, but you had nothing to say to it. And he knew it.

He was used to you staying silent.

He would prefer it most of the time.

So he could sink into his fantasies, the deluded fantasies that you loved him wholeheartedly, that you chose to stay silent as to not hurt his feelings, and always forgave him no matter what.

That you would forever and always be his.

He wouldnt give you the choice not to be.

He wouldnt let you leave when you’re his favorite person in the whole wide world.

The only one he needed.

And he was the only one you needed.

Yes.

Of course.

You didn’t need anyone else but him.

And he didn’t need anyone else but you.

So what if a few more people died because of his mistake, he would capture Ghoul eventually. Regardless, he would always come home to you.

Always.

And that’s all he needed.

He chucked against your neck, having buried it in the crook as his mind slipped through his shaky fingertips.

The Big Bad Wolf and his Little Red Riding Hood.

God how he loved the comparison.

Perhaps he was addicted.

Addicted to you.

Even now, as he inhaled your sugary sweet, natural scent stained with the metallic smell of dried blood.

Pulling back, he gazed into your hesitant eyes, delicately resting his forehead against yours.

His hair, now dry and no longer dripping with salty rain, tickled your skin, making you involuntarily take in a deep breath.

Closing his eyes once more, he soaks in the moment of your warm body in his frigid embrace, nothing else mattered to him.

Just you.

Only you.

“L-let me see your cheek,” he asks softly, words not as wobbly as before,  afraid that if he spoke too loudly in such a thin atmosphere, everything would shatter abruptly like glass.

Your body moved on instinct as if you were used to doing as he asked immediately no matter what, pulling the cool cloth away from your burning cheek.

Resisting the urge to sniffle and flinch away, you allow him to rewet the cloth, holding still as he dabs lightly at the small wound.

“I know it hurts,” he breathes out, “shh, shh, it’s okay.” it was always so strange how his voice still managed to calm your nerves even after all you’ve been through.

Deep down, you knew he was still that loving and energetic boy you met back at that coffee shop.

If only you knew how sinister and twisted he could really be.

Perhaps.. perhaps you wouldn’t be in such a situation now.

But there was never any point in pondering the what-ifs.

All you could do was fight your mind from seeking normalities in such a relationship as this, if you could even call it that.

You wouldn’t succumb to his desires like you always did.

You wouldnt lose yourself.

No.

You couldn’t let that happen.

Or was it too late already?

You hissed when you felt the stinging seer of rubbing alcohol dotted onto your cut, cleaning the wound.

“It’s okay.” he repeats, cooing to you with a reassuring smile that should have made you feel sick all over again.

You let him apply antibiotic ointment and a small cheek bandage, his hands shaky yet careful. You could say he has experience in applying bandages.

It was uncomfortable as it sat on your raw skin, but it’s not like you were going to go and rip it off. That would feel like ripping off a wax strip on a sunburn.

Humming, he gingerly wipes away the dried blood on your neck with the same washcloth, not minding how blood-stained the innocently white fabric became. 

Next came your still aching wrists. There wasn’t much he could do for your legs, but at least he had roll-on bandages on standby.

Turning the cold tap on, he lets you run them under cool water before gently dabbing the stray droplets away, careful not to press too hard.

He really needed to invest in softer handcuffs, it’s just- those were the only ones he had, and he didn’t use them often. Besides, it never got this bad before. But that wasn’t a good excuse.

He’d have to order some online tomorrow..

Applying more ointment around the area, the kind that offers instant relief, he wraps your smaller wrists up as best he could, cringing himself whenever you’d flinch.

He’d make it up to you.. Pancakes in the morning, perhaps?

Izuku then begins to sluggishly put away everything he brought out of the cabinet, tossing what needed to be tossed into the trashcan.

He was slow, almost as if he was trying to keep his balance, which he no doubt was. 

Standing in front of you once again, he wrapped his arms around you, whispering “up” in your ear.

It was something he would always say when he wanted you to wrap your arms and legs around him so he could carry you like a baby.

But who were you to refuse?

It wasn’t as if he couldnt pick you up without your limbs wrapped around him, it was more for your comfort rather than his convenience.

So, tentatively, you wrapped your still shaking arms around his neck, doing the same with your legs around his bent waist.

“Good girl.” he praised as he began walking back into the bedroom, stopping just at your side of the bed to place you down at the edge.

Numbly, you let him remove your rain-soaked clothes from all the hugging, sitting on the bed in just your panties as you watched him toss the clothes in the hamper by the door

It wasn’t the first time he insisted on treating you like a child who needed help changing, but at least you didn’t have to walk.

It was hard to remember if it was a good or a bad thing that you didn’t care about being nude in front of him anymore, not even bothering to hide your chest as he came back over with a fresh set of clothes - the strawberry patterned pajamas he always seemed to adore you wearing.

You always looked so innocent in them. The shirt is far too large for your frame, the sleeves hanging off your hands and the large v-neck exposing your collar bones and parts of your shoulders. The bottoms were the regular run of the mill pajama pants, soft as cotton and comfy as hell.

The top truly was the part of the look that tied it all together.

He couldn’t help but smile as your arms immediately raised as he pulled the shirt out of the pile, making quick work of slipping it over your cute head and helping your arms into the sleeves.

He liked to take care of you.

You needed him to, after all.

You were his innocent, helpless little darling, after all.

Pulling your pants up, he guided your body down into a resting position, dragging the thick, grey, and black patterned comforter over your stilled body.

Such a good girl.

He tucks loose strands of messy (H/C) hair that fell across your face behind your ear, being mindful of the wound.

He stares at it for a moment, his expression holding that of worry and regret.

Pushing off the bed, he stumbles his way to the kitchen in the dark, having turned off the light as he went, the layout of the apartment burned to memory so he could easily avoid furniture.

In the kitchen, he opened the freezer and grabbed an ice pack, one he would commonly use on his own sore muscles and bruises. It hurt his heart knowing he was the reason you had to use it for the first time.

After wrapping it in some paper towels, he trudges his way back into the dark bedroom, eyes wracking over your balled up form, covers bunched over you like a shell.

“Put this on your cheek..” he whispered, placing the pack just in front of your face.

He would love to be the one to hold it to your cheek, but his mind was still hazy, and his words were still slurred. Events could sure as hell sober you up a bit, but damn did that nausea always come back crashing in through the brittle window full force when you’d least expect it.

Rummaging through the drawers once more, he picked up some of his own fresh clothes and made his way into the bathroom again.

All he wants is to sleep, but he also didnt want you to smell dried sweat and rain on his being throughout the night.

He knew you missed him, him and his warmth, you always did, right? No question about it. You must be longing for him even now. 

Wanting him to hold and comfort you just like always.

Numbed adrenaline pumped in his veins as he stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away his filth and regrets.

God, it felt so good to be able to somewhere warm for once.

The entire night he’s felt nothing but cold.

Not even the fire in his belly or the breath stolen from his lungs could’ve warmed him up.

He was mad at himself. Mad that he lost control and hurt the one thing that mattered the most to him.

Mad that he let himself get disgustingly drunk.

Mad that he walked in the rain like a dumbass just to soak your clothes and make you feel as cold as him.

But at the moment, too many thoughts were flying in his mind for him to properly think, no, he couldnt really even say he was thinking at all.

He was just letting the water splatter on the back of his neck, forehead resting on the cold shower tiles and he watched as water swirled down the drain like a whirlpool. His hair stuck to his cheeks like glue, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Absentmindedly, his fingers brush across the fresh scar on his broad shoulder.

He swore the longer he stood there, watching the clear flow of water, the looser his grip on himself became.

He couldnt really say he felt anything at all anymore.

When did he lose himself?

Was he ever even really found?

Ah.

With you.

You were the missing piece in his complicated and skull biting puzzle, the one who made him whole and lit up his dull life. You were the reason he felt things anymore, you were the reason he still managed to get up and save people with a clear conscious.

You always had such a positive impact on his life, and he knew he had just as good a one on yours.

A wobbly smile tore his flushed face in two, you both really did need eachother.

He was so happy to have you in his life.

Knowing you’d never leave him.

Turning the boiling hot water off, he stepped out, the plushness of the bath-mat embracing his wet feet as water continued to pour down his nude body.

It felt, it felt so hot suddenly.

His breath came out in exaggerated pants, hands sweeping his hair from his face as the burn of bile rose in his throat.

Lunging for the toilet, he emptied his stomach into the glistening white bowl.

Gasping for air, Izuku whipped his mouth on the back of his hand, still trying to catch his breath as he fumbled to flush.

God, he needed to sit down.

Shakily turning the bathroom faucet on, he washed his hand, making quick work of brushing his teeth before lazily drying himself off.

Ignoring the other clothes he brought in, the toned hero simply pulled on a pair of black boxers before walking out of the bathroom.

Green eyes immediately looked at your form, just to see the soft rise and fall of your chest as you soundly slept, the ice pack sitting comfortably on your cheek.

You looked so adorable.

You always did.

Smiling once more, he walked over to the bed, pulling back the sheets just to slide his larger, warm body in and next to your own.

He sighs blissfully the moment he tugs you into his embrace, relishing in the feeling of your soft body against him.

Removing the icepack from your cheek, not wanting you to awake to a cheek burning from the cold, he places it on the nightstand before snuggling closer to you.

You always fit so perfectly in his big arms.

You were meant to be by his side.

And you loved it, didn’t you?

Eventually, he fell asleep, soft snores echoing around the quiet room filled with the downpour of rain still pouring down outside the large glass windows,

But you were still wide awake.

It was hard to remember the last time you got a good night’s rest, especially when the room was spine-chillingly dark..

Hard to remember what life was like before you even met your own personal nightmare.

You were used to the exhaustion, the dark circles kissing at the skin under your eyes becoming normal the day you were brought here.

Oh, how foolish you were.

You should have locked your window that fateful night.

But heroes are quite stealthy, aren’t they?

Was this even reality at this point? Or all just a figment of your imagination, protecting you from the true horrors before your very eyes.

Either answer wasnt one you wanted.

But you never had a choice.

Tears slipping from your eyes like they always seemed to do, you stared longingly off into the distance, the warmth pressed against your back pulling you further into your own bubbling madness.

All it took was a signal thought for this to all become normal.

For the pain to wash away with your tears.

‘Maybe this is ok.’

[gaemkyuu]

Of Kings & Queens (Part One)

Warnings: none!  A/N: Here’s the first part! This is mostly context to the story, with a sneak peak of Prince Charlie! I’ll upload a little more tomorrow! AU!Prince Charlie Gillespie x Fictional Character Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life.

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6

Four Kingdoms stood strong.  North, East, South and West.  Four Royal Families would unite the land. The Blood of Gillespie would rule the cold North, bountiful with forestry and game. The Blood of Shada would rule the Eastern coast and land, mastering the stormy seas and its’ treasures. The Blood of Joyners would rule the hot Southern lands, gathering the resources for petrol that kept the Kingdoms running. The Blood of Lee would rule the golden coast of the Western lands, providing crops and livestock to feed the people. In each Kingdom, a Ruler to bring prosperity and peace to all its’ people.

Dawn was breaking and people were already moving busily about the Western Kingdom. As more people woke, the excitement in the air increased, for today was a special day. Festivities would start early in the day and go late into the night as the Western Kingdom celebrated the coming of age the Princess. Not only was it the Princess’ birthday, it also signified that the Princess was now officially on the Royal Market, searching for a partner to become King of the Western Kingdom. Tonight’s celebration at the castle would bring people from all over the nation, including the royal families from the Eastern, Southern, and Northern kingdoms. Farmers harvested and packed their crops and livestock, Bakers made fresh delights by the dozens, Florists put out their best and brightest flowers and the Merchants polished their wares. This special occasion would bring people from all over the Four Kingdoms to their stores in celebration and vacation. All the work that was being put into the celebration brought the citizens together and united them on this special day. 

Well... At least the citizens were excited...

The Princess was awoken by her best friend and handmaiden, much to her displeasure. She groaned and pulled the covers over her head as the curtains in her room were parted, trying to ignore the hustle and bustle going around her. She knew what day it was, and this made her want to stay in bed for much longer. She even debated not getting up at all. As her handmaiden made herself busy and gave directions to other servants that had entered her room, the princess pulled a pillow over her head, trying to make it clear that she had no intention of getting up. With a heavy sigh, her confidant gave the other servants orders and ushered them out before shutting the door softly behind them.

“Liv. I love you and you know how I feel about today, but I would really appreciate it if you would cooperate so we don’t have the queen on our butts this early” the princess groaned and her best friend pulled the covers off her body. She flinched at the bright sunlight streaming into her room.

“I’m not getting up today Sav. It’s not happening” Savannah shook her head and rolled her eyes at her friend. She knew that Olivia could be quite the drama queen, but today she needed her to cooperate so that she wouldn’t fall behind schedule. Savannah glanced at the clock, already knowing that the extra 15 minutes she allotted was now gone. 

“Liv, unless you want to bathe in a cold bath, you will get up or so help me I will dump ice water on you myself!” Olivia groaned and finally sat up looking at her best friend with disdain. “Listen, I know you don’t want to do Today. I get it. But you don’t need another reason to get on the nerves of the King and Queen today” Savannah’s voice sounded slightly distressed and Olivia felt a little guilty at her dramatization this morning.

Olivia and Savannah were best friends ever since she could remember. Savannah was the only friend she had growing up in the palace and was the only friend her parents let her have that wasn’t Royalty. Sure, there were the Duchesses and Countesses of the smaller lands in the Western Kingdom, but Olivia always found them snooty or rude. Savannah’s family had been helping the royal family for generations and they were integral parts of the inner workings of the palace. Naturally, when Savannah’s parents were busy at work Savannah would wander the halls until she found Olivia. The two were like sisters and the King and Queen appreciated the hard work her family put in to serving the Royal family. 

And while the Royal family paid them handsomely while providing them lodging, Olivia couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at times when the difference in their status showed. Olivia rarely wore the same dress twice, while Savannah had a very modest and small wardrobe. Olivia had a private instructor, while Savannah went to the school with other children. But Savannah never really cared and that’s what Olivia loved about her. She was a true and honest friend who Olivia felt safe confiding in.

“Sorry Sav. I didn’t mean to make this any harder on you than it already has been” Olivia offered her friend a smile, patting the spot beside her on the bed. “Think you can spend a few minutes off your feet? Debrief me on the day if you will?” Savannah greatly accepted the spot, giving her a knowing look and a big sigh.

“Well Princess-” Olivia glared at Savannah at the title. “You need to get into the baths and get clean so I can do your hair and make up before the lady the Queen hired arrives. There is no way I’m letting you face the neighbouring nations’ heirs with makeup and hair that I don’t approve of.” Olivia laughed at Savannah’s possessiveness.

“Do we know if the royal families are coming or just their heirs?” Olivia gave a stretch, preparing herself to start the day.

“To my knowledge, just the heirs... But I hear that Prince Charles is quite handsome!” Olivia rolled her eyes as Savannah winked at her. “What? I can’t help it! You hear the chitter chatter in the palace halls. They arrived yesterday and some of the other servants have already been gushing about him. He’s apparently really charming and great husband material” Savannah saw the look of defeat briefly cross her friend’s eyes, before covering it up with an annoyed sigh. “But enough of that. Let’s get you cleaned and dressed and ready to greet our guests.”

***

“Alright Liv, take a deep breath and hold it, I’m pulling up the zipper!” Olivia did as she was told, while Savannah pulled up the zipper to her dress. She was already dreading the fact that she would have to wear the elaborate garb for several hours. Although the light blue gown was absolutely stunning and represented her fashion sense too, she didn’t expect it to come in several pieces. After putting on two layers of skirt, she had a separate top that needed to be zipped up and a cape draped over her shoulders. She could already feel the weight of the material weighing her down a bit and she sighed at the fact that they hadn’t put on her jewelry yet. Savannah and her helpers busied themselves about putting on a bracelet here and a necklace there. Another girl was putting on her earrings while the other made small hems to her dress. Olivia felt like the dolls that her and Savannah played with as little girls.

“Voila! I’ve outdone myself!” Savannah exclaimed, admiring her bestfriend’s transformation, stepping away from her so that she could see herself in the mirror. As much as Olivia didn’t want to like this moment, she couldn’t stop the smile that graced her face. Her best friend had listened to her every request about her dress. Her mother insisted that her first dress be floor length, modest and a Queen Ann neckline. She requested that the dress be midnight blue with the lace accents to be gold. Her mother criticized her colour choice, saying that dark colours were for the evening, not the morning. Olivia argued that if she had no say in the dress at all, she would go naked, a response in which her mother glared angrily at her. However, as she looked at herself in the mirror, she realized that Savannah had taken her mother’s requests and her requests and blended them together. She had a high waisted, A-line skirt that held the princess look her mother wanted, but it wasn’t so big that Olivia felt like a pastry. The Queen Ann neckline was a dark blue mesh with gold lace accents that extended into long sleeves for her arms. Her bodice held very little decoration as the bottom of her dress held all the royal ornate details. The velvet floor length cape was held together by a golden broach.

As per tradition, Olivia wore her family jewels. The gold diamond festoon necklace sat proudly upon her collar and the gold and sapphire earrings were prominent but not over done. A small dainty gold bracelet sat on her wrist and her family ring decorated her right hand. Her hair was neatly pulled back into a loosened braided low bun with the occasional curl framing her face.

“You’ve done a fine job Savannah” the girls jumped at the voice of the Queen. Quickly turning around, Savannah curtsied to her majesty and Olivia followed with a smaller curtsy. “Savannah, could you please grab the tiara out of the case?”

“Yes, your majesty” Savannah hurried over to the velvet case on the vanity and presented it to the Queen. The small but simple gold tiara sparkled in the light of the room. As the Queen gently picked the tiara up, Olivia bowed, lowering her head, a gesture she was all too familiar with. Her mother placed her tiara upon her head and held her face in her hands. She kissed her daughter on the head, careful not to get any lipstick on her.

“The gods have been great to bless me with a daughter as beautiful as you.” Olivia smiled at her mom, not expecting the sudden emotional tenderness she displayed. “Happy Birthday my dearest. Promise me you’ll try to behave yourself today?” Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“I’ll try” her mother chuckled softly.

“Just like your father... All I ask is that you give today a chance to be great. You might be surprised at the unexpected events that may present themselves to you” Olivia could never see herself being as polished as her mother. She knew her mother had her best interest at heart, but Olivia couldn’t help but feel like her mother was forcing her to fit into traditional roles of the Kingdom. “If you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way to the throne room. I shall see you shortly Olivia. Savannah, please ensure that the Princess does not stall. I would hate to have her tardy for her grand entrance.”

“Yes your highness!” Savannah curtsied as her mother and the remaining servants exited, leaving the two of them in the room. “Ready to go my lady?”

“Savannah, you know you can drop the formalities around me.” Olivia stepped off the round fitting platform, Savannah catching her arm as Olivia stumbled for a moment, not used to wearing heels. “It makes me feel weird!”

“I know, but we are going to be around tons of people today and most of them would probably have my head if I called you by name in front of them. I’ll be at your side the entire time, but when others are around, you have to remember I’m your attendant” Olivia sighed in slight disappointment, but she knew her friend was right.

“How is it that you’re not the Princess and I am? You’d be way better at this than I am” Savannah giggled at her remarks and dusted her dress off before they opened the door. They knew that her royal guards were right behind it and that as soon as they exited the room, their dynamic had to change.

“Please, I can’t hide my feelings as easily as you. When I think someone is an idiot, it’s clear all over my face and I don’t even notice it!” they shared a laugh as they opened the door and officially started the day. 

But they didn’t expect to see a brown haired man zoom by them in hysterical laughter as a taller blonde man chased after him. 

“Charlie! Get back here with my crown!” and the two disappeared around the corner. Olivia blinked in shocked, trying to process whether the scene in front of her happened or not. As her and Savannah shared a look and shrugged their shoulders, they realized that today was going to indeed be very eventful.

tag list:  @ifilwtmfc

[bangtanstrawberrycheesecake]

He has a daughter from previous relationship

➾ pairing: husband!min yoongi x  reader

➾ genre: angst, marriage, slice of life, slight smut

➾ word count: 5k

➾ summary: Yoongi has a daughter from a previous relationship and puts her before anyone else, including you, his own wife. You began questioning your marriage.

➾ title: Me Before Anyone Else (One Shot)

I watched as the minute turns from 55 to 56, informing me that another minute has pass by. It was 1:56 a.m yet Yoongi wasn't back home. He didn't even bother calling me to tell me why he's going to be late and why he had to be somewhere at 2 freaking am. The last time he informs me of his whereabouts was at 8pm where he told me he's on his way soon. 7 hours has pass by and I don't even know where he is. The first time he went MIA I panicked like crazy, thinking something might have happened to him or maybe he was in a car accident, but no, he showed up the next day with all sorts of excuse to why he couldn't go home. I wasn't even sad anymore at this point, it has happened too many times that I was becoming numb to the disappointing feeling in my chest.  I knew he's doing okay out there and he's going to come home tomorrow with all sort of excuses like he always does.

I threw my phone on my bed and went up to the closet, deciding to change my sexy lingerie to a pair of comfortable silk pajama set that I had bought the other day in my "spend money because I’m sad shopping spree." The lingerie wouldn't be a use anyway since the man that I wanted to surprise it on wasn't even home anyway.

If you think being Min Yoongi's wife would mean I could get all his time and attention then you're wrong. Despite being married for 2 years I still felt like I wasn't really... his wife.

Min Y/N.

I never thought the name suited me anyway.

If you're wondering why I still stick up with this marriage despite the fact that I'm not completely happy is because I’m in love with him. Yes, they all say love makes you crazy. And I couldn't agree more. Yoongi was no perfect man, being married with him means accepting him despite his imperfections, accepting his past deeds, and accepting his family. The family that never appreciated me despite the fact that I’m trying my best to be Yoongi’s trophy wife.

But I endure it all because I love him.

I was awoken by the familiar voice and touch on the palm of my hand.

Yoongi.

I squint open my eyes, trying to get a sight of my husband just to give myself a reassurance that he's really there even though I know for sure whom that voice and touch belongs to.

"You're here" my voice was still groggy from my sleep but a smile manages to form it's way on my lips. I couldn’t help it. I was still pissed at him for last night but with him crouching down beside my bed looking down on me while his finger rubs slow circles on my palm, i couldn't stay mad at him for long. I could smell his familiar scent washes over me. The mixed smell of cologne and musky smell of a man that I love so much. But I could smell an unfamiliar scent whiff through my nose... What was that? A smell of alcohol? No not the drinking kind of alcohol but the medicine alcohol kind of smell.

"Where were you?" the question I’ve been dying to ask finally slip out of my mouth. I didn't want to sound pissed but yet I still sound like it. Yoongi must've realized that because now he's cupping my face and kissing my face softly all over from my chin, eyes, nose and to my neck, hoping it will calm me down.

I try to ignore his soft kisses but I couldn't help it, a grin escapes my lips but it was cut short when I heard the sentence he whispers out.

"I'm sorry, Hana was sick last night so I rushed her over to the hospital and stay the night. She was scared and wouldn't let me leave so I accompanied her."

Disappointment starts filling in inside my chest.

Okay that explains why he smells like the hospital.

Hana. She was one of the reason why my relationship with Yoongi hadn't been a stable one.

But yet I know she will always be in the picture no matter what... because she's his daughter. His five years old daughter that he loves with all his life.

His flesh and blood. And I know he'll never trade her with anyone, not even me.

Yup, Hana is Yoongi's daughter that he had with one of his past ex flings.

And he names her Hana because it means One in Korean and because she's the number one thing in his life. Like I didn't know that already but now I have to be reminded of that every single time I hear her name. Great.

Okay I know I probably sound childish as heck because I’m being salty over a five years old kid who is technically also my step daughter. But I have my reasons. And I have many of it.

First, the kid hates me. Second, the kid's mom hates me. And the list goes on.

I was awoken out of my trance when Yoongi continue with his explanation. "Hana's condition is better now though. She's stable and the nurses are taking great care of her so Joo Yeon let me go back home. She said she'll call me again if anything happens."

Even hearing her name makes my insides churn. I tried hard not to let jealousy cloud over me but it still does.

Relax.

You're his wife, you shouldn't feel jealous over anyone. Not even his ex. He doesn't love her, Yoongi said she's just one of his ex-flings.

But she's the mother of his child. My inner thought tried to remind of the harsh truth. So not helping.

"Babe? Are you okay?"

Yoongi must've senses my sudden change in mood. I force a smile and nod my head, "Yeah…I'm fine. Just still a little sleepy. I'm just happy you're back home and that Hana is fine."

Of course, I had to lie to him that I’m fine even though I hate the fact that he stayed the night in the hospital because that means Joo Yeon was there too. And there's probably only the three of them there. As much as I wanted to throw a tantrum, I know I couldn't do that. I didn't want him thinking I’m being childish in this relationship. So I always play the understanding role to him. I trusted him. I know he won't do anything stupid with Joo Yeon and I always assure myself that whatever he do is really for Hana and not Joo Yeon. That was how we manage to be together for so long. We dated for three years before tying the knot. Which means we have been together for five years.

We've been through many rocks, heck, we've been through many mountains along the way but I endure every single one of them.

All in the name of love. and I know it's the same for Yoongi as well. I know he loves me, and that's also one of the reason why I stayed in this relationship.

But I know he loves Hana as well, even more so than me.

I know he'll always put her first and that is why I’m not completely happy in this marriage.

Yoongi slept till noon the next day since he didn't sleep at all last night because he was too worried for Hana's condition. While he sleeps like a dead log, I decided to cook him something for him to eat when he wakes up. Nothing like a good ol Korean homemade food. Hana only caught a fever but apparently for Yoongi that is too much for his princess. Of course he had her checked in at the VVIP room of Seoul's most prestigious hospital.

I saw the hospital bill that he had put on the nightstand and boy it ain't cheap. A smaller receipt of takeout was sprawled in the night stand as well. '3 white piedmont truffle pasta [takeaway]'

Truffles. Hana's favourite. He must've bought that to cheer her up. Of course he had to buy for Joo Yeon as well. The image of the three of them eating pasta together in the hospital room like a happy family flash my mind. I let the thoughts off, shaking my head hoping to get the image out of my head. I'm not gonna let it ruin my day today.

But that small receipt reminded me how Joo Yeon will always be able to ride on Yoongi's wealth and live a luxury life with the excuse of being Hana's mom. Even though he's not with Joo Yeon, Yoongi never fails to provide for Hana's needs and education since the day he finds out Joo Yeon had given birth to his child. He had bought the two a huge house so Hana could live comfortably. At first, I was mad at him, because even though his excuse was that he bought it for his daughter, Joo Yeon lives there too and it annoys me. Was it necessary to buy a huge freaking house just for the two of them? Then he bought Hana a car a luxury car for her to go to school, and of course Ji Yeon was the one who use it since his daughter is too young to drive.

The list goes on to the point I just stop caring. It's his money anyway and I never wanted to take control of it. Despite the media and his family claiming I was a gold digger who married Yoongi for his wealth, I know I was never one. I was always a financially dependent woman, with my own F&B business that is doing well here in Korea but the media and his parents just needed an excuse to hate on me.

After our homemade Korean lunch, Yoongi had asked me whether I wanted to join him to the hospital to check on Hana. I didn't feel like meeting Joo Yeon today so I come up with an excuse, "You should go alone, I already promised my friends that I’m joining the Saturday tea time."

Okay so I didn't completely lie because my girls did invite me to a meet up today. I gave Yoongi a puppy eye and pout and he completely bought my excuse. "I'm gonna miss you..."  Yoongi pull me by my waist, bringing me closer to him so I would sit down his lap. We were on our couch, chilling after our lunch with the TV turned on showing some random variety show. "I'm gonna miss you too." I gave Yoongi a peck in his lips, slightly angling down my hips so our crotch would grind down each other and he answered me with a groan before flipping us over so that I’m under him. My squeal of surprise was masked by his hungry kisses and I could feel Yoongi pressing down his hardness on me. We end up spending an hour on the couch before he go to check on Hana.

"Y/n! I didn't think you'd show up!"

My bestfriend Hyorin’s  cheery voice echoed throughout the lounge. The Shilla hotel's lounge weren't crowded and there were only a few other occupied table. I instantly grin and pull her into a hug. Her cheeriness had made me cheery as well and that's exactly what I needed right now.

I scan through the cafe and see all my favorite girlfriends making their way to me to pull me into a hug. Yup, exactly what I need right now.

"Gurl, I thought you said you're going to spend time with Yoongi today?"

Hyorin asked me and I didn’t get a chance to reply when one of my girlfriends showed her phone screen to us, displaying Joo Yeon's Instagram story of Hana in the hospital bed with Yoongi sitting beside her holding her hand.

I rolled my eyes at the video, and I felt my girls tapping my back in understanding.

"She just had to upload it to Instagram huh." Hyorin rolled her eyes as well and I felt better that someone finally understand exactly what I’m feeling.

In contrast with Joo Yeon who love to share updates about Yoongi and Hana on her social media, I was more of the private type. I'm extremely cautious on what I share because I know the media likes to create drama out of nothing and that wouldn't be good for Yoongi’s career.

Fans loves Joo Yeon's update though and there are many fans who wanted them to go back together and be a happy family, completely disregarding my feelings.

"She always does that even back then when she and Yoongi was a thing, she had to upload cryptic post so the fans would know they're together." Hyorin continue chiming in. 

The day went by and the sun have gone down. I was getting tipsy from the cocktail I have ordered. Our conversations were mostly about our marriage turmoils. No marriage is perfect and we have each other to remind that.

One by one each of my girlfriends began excusing themselves from the gathering, all having to run their own errands.

"Guess it's only the two of us." Hyorin chuckle and we both toast our glass of cocktail. We were the only one drinking alcohol because we weren't pregnant. Seeing Hyorin's kids and my girlfriends with pregnant belly though, had made me long for a kid of my own too. I've always wanted a kid of my own with Yoongi. It would be a lie if I said I wasn’t jealous of Joo Yeon for having a kid with Yoongi.

I've been trying for a baby with Yoongi but luck wasn't on my side for the past 2 years of marriage.

"Should I be worried that I haven't been knock up till now?" I blurted out before continuing "Obviously it's not Yoongi's fault because he's very fertile as you can tell. Maybe it's me? I think I should go check it out to the doctor."

_________________________________________________________________

It was getting late so I decided it was best for us to head back home. Unlike Hyorin who had her husband checking up on them every minute, I hadn't received any text nor calls from my own dear husband. I was like a tipsy heartbroken mistress, except I’m actually the wife. How ironic.

Yoongi's probably too busy with Hana that he forgot to check up on me. It's 11 pm but he doesn't even care where I was or whether I’m safe.

I was actually in a much better mood when I’ve arrived in UN Village, one of Seoul's most expensive neighbourhood where Yoongi and I are staying. We thought an apartment was the best for a couple like us so we stayed in the apartment that Yoongi had purchased years ago. I couldn't wait to go up, take a shower and cuddle Yoongi. My mood was cut short when I heard laughters and giggles coming from the living room the moment I open up the door.

Hana was here. So was Joo Yeon and even my inlaws were here. Great! And I thought I was going to get a peaceful night.

"You’re back.” Yoongi stood up with Hana on his arms. All eyes on me and I could see the others throwing nasty look on me as if I was the woman who ruin the happy family.

I gave Yoongi a smile and he gave me a kiss on my foreheard before mumbling "I miss you" just hard enough for everyone to hear in the now cold silent living room.

I felt Hana throwing dagger looks on me as if she wants to make me disappear from the face of the planet. She was visibly upset that I was here so she decided to jump off from Yoongi and run to her mom who were looking at me with jealousy.

I look at her back, smirking a little to her when Yoongi circle his arms around me before escorting me to the living room so I could say hi to everyone. We exchange simple greetings and I couldn't wait to leave and I know they felt the same way. The only one who seems to like me was Yoongi’s brother and his daughter. She cling onto me the moment her eyes landed on me.

I made an excuse saying I was tired so I wanted to go to the room and rest. I heard his mom murmuring "You're not even pregnant and you're tired?" Yoongi didn't hear that but I did and so did Joo Yeon. She gave me a smirk back as if she had won this round and I wish I could rip that smirk off her face! But I know I’m better than that, so I gave them all a smile before making my way to me and Yoongi’s room.

I lost it the moment I close the door. I didn't even realized that I was holding back tears.

I guess i'm not that strong after all. The pent-up stress had been too much. I hate it when Yoongi's mom said stuff like that to point out the fact I haven't gave them a grandchild. God knows how much I want one as well and it makes me feel less of a woman when she remind me that I’m not pregnant yet.

"Mmm.. y/n... wake up..."

I was awaken by Yoongi nuzzling on my neck, his arm were trailing down on my body. I didn't realized I had fallen asleep after showering. I was still in my bathrobe which are now completely open probably because I had moved in my sleep and now I have a very horny man on top of me.

"If I knew I’d be greeted with this view I would have went to the room sooner." Yoongi joked as he leaves kisses down my neck while his other hand cup on my mound. I don't know if I should be mad or happy with that joke but it reminded that he was spending time with Joo Yeon and Hana and I check on the clock on the wall to see how long he had been leaving me. It's 1 am now and it pisses me off that he spends another two hours with them even though I’m back home. But I brush that thought away, I’m not going to think of the two and ruin what me and Yoongi is having right now. It's just me and him now, the two of us enjoying each other's presence in our bed. I was slowly losing myself and my breathing became hard when I felt Yoongi slowly kissing down my body. I felt him part my legs, shaping it into an M shape before burying his face on my lower half.

"Oh my god Yoongi..." a moan escape my lip the moment Yoongi's tongue landed on my clit. He groan and kept licking on my clit, knowing how much it drives me crazy. I had fisted my fingers on his hair by now, keeping his head locked down while he licks and suck on my most sensitive bud. The room were filled with my high-pitched moan and his proud groan of approval. My back arch and I was trashing left and right as he dove his tongue inside my hole before going back to my now engorged clit. He kept repeating it while he holds my hips in place, not allowing my lower body to move even an inch. That heightens the pleasure even more and the only thing leaving my lips were his name and it didn't take long before my orgasm hit me

We were both lost in the moment and Yoongi was about to slip his dick inside me, the head was already inside my opening when we heard knocks on our door. What the actual fuck!

"Appa! Appa!" I heard Hana screaming from outside and I gave Yoongi a "what the hell I thought she went home look" Yoongi gave me a sorry look before standing up to put on his boxer, his dick was still hard although it has softened slightly because of the interference, but it was still obvious from the tent on his boxer. "Explain, Yoongi." I was pissed and Yoongi knew that. "Sorry, I let them stay the night in the guest room since it's already late... Plus Hana wants me around, she's very attached when she's sick."

I couldn't even answer him, I was super pissed and I was horny as heck. Not a good combination.

He was about to open the door when I jump up from the bed to stop him from doing so.

"What the heck are you thinking going out there looking like that?" I whisper out, just hard enough for Yoongi to hear but not enough for the person outside. I point out to Yoongi’s obvious tent and he look down as well. He must've realized it's not appropriate as well because his grip on the door handle loosen.

"Yoongi...Hana needs you..." Joo Yeon's voice can be hear from outside and my mood turn even more sour. "Oh no no no don’t you even think of going out with HER outside." the thought of Yoongi still in his half horny state going out and seeing Joo Yeon pisses me off. A man is still a man after all and even though I trust Yoongi, I’m not going to let that happen. I motion for Yoongi to go to the bathroom so I can take care of the situation.

I didn't even think of fixing my disheveled hair and only tie my bathrobe loosely before opening up the door so Joo Yeon can realise what me and Yoongi were up to before Hana decided to ruin it.

She doesn't even look surprise when she looks at my state. Oh so she knew what was going on and she purposely had her daughter ruin me and Yoongi’s moment. What a bitch!!!! I should've realised sooner that the apartment walls are not thick enough and Joo Yeon had heard everything since she's staying in the room beside us.

"Oh hi dear..." Joo yeon smirk at me, and Hana was looking at me with annoyance while she play with her brand new iPad tablet. I was too pissed to even answer her and only arch my brow up. "Where's Yoongi? Hana couldn't sleep without him in the room" Joo Yeon said before pushing me aside to go inside my room to look for Yoongi. What the hell is this bitch thinking to think it's okay for her to step foot inside my private bedroom? I shove her out , "No you can wait outside, Thank you!" Joo Yeon must've senses that I was too pissed to messed with so she rolled her eyes and stood outside. I got a clear view of her now and that's when I noticed she was freshly showered and she was using nothing but a familiar white Fear Of God shirt. It landed down her thigh but I knew it wasn't enough to cover her if she bend up or down. So this bitch was thinking of seducing my husband huh. But what pisses me off more was the fact that she was using Yoongi’s Fear of God shirt that I had ironed yesterday and put out in his closet.

"Jealous that your husband gave me his shirt to wear?" Joo Yeon chuckle, and I hate that she notices my jealousy. "I have nothing to be jealous of, I'm his wife." I lied. I purposely emphasize the word wife to rub it on her that he chose me. "He loves me, he chose me and married me. So, there's definitely nothing to be jealous of." I continue, and my sentences were a reminder to myself too. I knew I had hit the right part and made Joo Yeon insecure. "Oh yeah let's see how long that love last. A father's love to his daughter will never fade thought." Joo Yeon bark back, her face was seething red now. Her little minion of a daughter was hyping her up like a hype man, and it irks me that she acts like an angel in front of Yoongi but acts otherwise when Yoongi isn't around. She doesn't even look like she needed Yoongi since she obviously loves and needed her iPad more. "Let's see how long that love last especially since you can't seem to get pregnant. His love for you will wear of sooner or later. I , though, will always be in his life and it won't take long before the three of us become one again." Joo Yeon gritted her teeth and that snap something inside of me.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE." I shouted making both Joo Yeon and Hana jump in surprise. I drag the annoying woman out of the apartment and her daughter trail behind her before I shut the door right to her face. I know it's late at night but I know for sure this apartment building is a safe place, there's a 24 hour concierge and a limousine taxi on standby to drop her off back home. There was no reason for her to stay in this apartment in the first place, it was perfectly safe for her to go home but Yoongi just had to overthink and think it's unsafe for his Princess Hana!

I go back to my room, still piss off to find Yoongi come out of the bathroom freshly showered. He was wiping his hair with a towel when he notice the now silent house. "Where are they?" He definitely didn't hear the commotion that happen outside while he was in the shower.

"I ask them to go back home." I couldn't look him up in the eye as I say that, i don't know why I felt guilty. I shouldn't be but I was scared of Yoongi’s reaction.

"YOU WHAT?"

Yoongi was angry now. His loud voice echoed in our huge room and I flinch at the harsh tone. He threw the towel he was using to wipe his hair at my direction, and it landed right beside me, taking me by surprised. I look at him in disbelief, I should be the angry one, not him! "They shouldn't even be staying here in the first place!"

"She's my daughter she can stay here whenever she want!" Yoongi shouted back, going out of our room and shutting the door with a big slam. I followed him to find him wearing his shoes. I know he's thinking that the two is probably still in the lobby. "Your daughter can stay here but that woman shouldn't be here! and what were you thinking to give her your shirt to wear!" I don't even care if I sound childish anymore, I’m tired of acting like I’m fine and that Joo Yeon didn't affect me at all.

"That woman you talked about is the mother of my child, she has the right to stay here whenever she wants." Yoongi bite back. The words hit me right in my guts and I wanted to cry right there and then when I see him grab his car keys. So, he wants to leave me tonight to be with those two.

"Stay or I'm never stepping foot inside this house again." I challenged him. My tears were welling up in my eyes, ready to drop the moment I blink. I was basically asking Yoongi to choose between me or Hana. I knew what his answer would be, but I’m stupid enough to hope that maybe... just maybe his answer would be different.

Yoongi didn't even look back nor hesitate, he left me and the apartment door close shut.

I slide down the floor and cried my hearts out. The tears that were welled up on my eyes starts streaming down. My cries echoes in the huge apartment like it was mocking me for my poor fate.

That night my heart was broken down once again by none other than my very own husband, Min Yoongi.

Author’s note: Hope you all like it! Should I make this a series?

[arolla-pine]

Fake Dating - p.10

(10) - A nickname for him

The GPS informed them that they would reach Château d’Auvers-sur-Oise within an hour. They should use this time efficiently, because they were aware that three days given by Plagg weren’t too much for all preparations they needed to make.

“I guess we should start from the reason why we kept our relationship secret.” she began, trying to ignore Nino. “I think journalists will ask about it first.”

“Really?”

“They always pry about a bombshell. They won’t be interested in details at the beginning.”

“You sound like a specialist in media issues.” Adrien smiled.

“Well, I don’t have too good experiences with the press…”

“Seriously?” he was surprised. He couldn’t recall any scandalous articles involving LadyBug.

“There’s especially one journalist who really hates me.” Marinette sighed and looked through the window as if she remembered something from her past.

“But why?” Adrien asked intrigued, and Nino only pretended that he wasn’t listening.

“It’s all my pseudonym’s fault. At the beginning of my career Tikki decided that I should have a stage name. You know, she’s brilliant at her profession. She hid my identity so deeply that I was practically untraceable. And that made Alya mad.”

“Alya Césaire?” Nino spotted, slowing down unknowingly. Marinette looked at him uncertain, as if she forgot about his presence.

“Yes. Do you know her?” she asked suspiciously.

“No.” he replied shortly. “But we’ve had some problems with her once or twice…”

“So you know what I mean. Oh, if you saw her! Every single time we met at the press conference, she asked me a question that could help her to find my true identity.”

“But you don’t hide your name!” Adrien noted. “Yesterday you introduced herself as Marinette.”

“Now it doesn’t matter anymore, because my pseudonym has become a label itself. But Alya hasn’t forgotten the beginnings, so she still pesters me at each press conference. She takes revenge on me for hiding my identity in the past.”

“I can’t believe she didn’t find you. You know, on the street or something…”

“It wasn’t so easy. My personal image differs from the professional one. That was another Tikki’s idea to create an official LadyBug’s image that would be recognisable.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Every day I look like now. Jeans, T-shirts. Sometimes a dress… Usually I wear my hair up – a bun or ponytail. Or just hair down. On stage I wear two pigtails with red ribbons. And I always have a little ladybug on my cheek.”

“But you still look like you.”

“You’d be surprised how such details matter! I’ve met a lot of people who passed by me, glancing or even staring at me. And they always moved on, because they weren’t sure if it was me or not. I guess they didn’t want to accost a stranger or to feel foolish if they were wrong.”

“I have to share this idea with Plagg.”

“It’s too late for you. You’re too recognisable.”

“I have to admit that your manager was unusually determined.”

“She wanted to avoid a double marketing. You know, once they’re talking about Marinette, the other time about LadyBug. She directed all the efforts to promote LadyBug to let people associate my face with that name.”

“Like Madonna. Or Pink.”

“I’m flattered, Adrien. But they’re out my league.”

“I mean a label of a pseudonym. Nobody remembers real names of those stars.”

“That was what Tikki wanted to achieve for LadyBug. Of course, I’m not so arrogant to compare to such stars like Madonna or Pink. I’m not even a half of their talent…”

“You’re at your beginning. There’s a long way ahead.”

“Tikki also repeats that I should sing more often in English. That in French I have no chance to be known worldwide.”

“Look at Celine Dion.”

“Adrien, please… Stop comparing me to another star!”

“I’m not comparing. Just try to inspire by their experiences. Celine Dion has promoted French songs all around the world.”

“God, I feel like I was listening to Tikki right now.” Marinette sighed. “Did you talk to her?”

“I think I’ve just said something obvious. I don’t know why you don’t want to accept a piece of advice. Especially when two people from your inner circle advised you the same.”

“Let me remind you that you were included in my inner circle yesterday.” she stated wryly.

“So?” he grinned.

“Never mind.” she ended the discussion and added in a reserved tone: “Thank you for your advice. I’ll think about it.”

“You seem not to believe in your real position in the music market.” Adrien commented.

“How did you figure it out?” she asked outraged. “After these few sentences I said? We’ve known each other since yesterday, My Frog!”

“Frog?” he spotted.

“You were to be a prince, but now I prefer to turn you into a frog!”

Adrien couldn’t resist and burst out laughing. She fascinated him more and more. For fifteen or twenty minutes they had been chatting like good friends, she even shared quite personal afterthoughts with him. Yet became irritated and outraged as soon as he dared express his opinion on her career. She ended the discussion immediately, and he – instead of withdrawing from a dangerous minefield, felt like continuing teasing her. Weird. He’d never felt that way before.

“You would have to kiss me first, Princess…” he whispered in her ear that made her blush instantly.

“Now I’m so sure you talked to Tikki!” she replied irritably.

“Really? Did you ask her about how to turn a prince into a frog?”

“You don’t want to know how this conversation looked like.” she answered back, recalling the moment she had shaken herself in disgust. Yet… Kissing Adrien didn’t seem so disgusting for her anymore…

“After what you’ve just said I can’t wait to know all the details. Did you really ask your manager about kissing?”

“One more word, Adrien, and I promise I’ll break our agreement!” Marinette warned. “Is he always like that?” she asked Nino who only chuckled in reply.

“Actually, he’s never been like this before.” he said after a moment, still focused on the road. “I think you awoke a beast in him.”

“You think it’s reversible?” Marinette frowned.

“Don’t get it so seriously!” Nino advised. “It’s only fake dating, isn’t it?”

Marinette became speechless for a moment. She couldn’t believe she let herself involve into that conversation so deeply that she forgot about this whole mystification. No wonder that Adrien had fun teasing her! She called herself to order and decided not to let him provoke her again. If he could turn on a mode of flirting, she could do the same. ‘It’s only fake dating’ – Nino said. And he was so right!

“OK then…” she began in a conciliatory manner. “If you’re going to act as a playboy, I have to join the party, Kitty-Cat.”

“I’m a cat now?” Adrien smiled.

“Do you prefer being a cat or a frog?”

“Do I have to be an animal?”

“Maybe a teddy-bear…”

“Again, an animal, or even worse: a toy…”

“Nino said I awoke a beast, so I’m trying to figure out what kind of animal you could be.”

“Not every animal is a beast.” he noted.

“And vice versa.” she answered back.

“So, I suggest a cat. They are endearing, soft. They can purr and cheer you up…”

“They walk their own ways.” Nino added. “They can leave the house and come back after a week. It’s not you, Adrien.”

Marinette giggled.

“Cats have their own opinion and they are rather individualists.” she completed the description. “Are you someone like that?”

Nino snorted meaningfully, and she knew instantly what that meant. This time she didn’t laugh, especially when she saw pain on Adrien’s face after his friend’s reaction.

“Well… It’s been just awoken. Who knows what I’ll turn out to be?” he murmured.

She smiled at him and softly touched his hand.

“OK then. You’ll be my Kitty…”

And he smiled back.

---

@marinettemarch

Day 6 “Double life”

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Fake Dating p.9  <-  Previous part  |  Next part  ->  Fake Dating p.11 

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