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animatorweirdo · 8 months ago

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When the Dragons Fly (Book 3)

Your plan worked and the fight was won. Unfortunately, you are now separated from the host and your dragon, wounded and soaked from head to toe. Will you make it alive before the orcs get to you? Or will you freeze to death in the harsh winds of the cold?

Chapter 10

Warnings: mentions of falling, injuries, bruises, broken ribs, soaked clothes, threats of freezing to death, walking through the snowstorm, hypothermia and frostbite, getting chased, shot with an arrow, and near death.

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The cave was dark and cold. There was barely any light except from the crack where you fell from. The humming of the wind reached your ears through the cavern and the sounds of water dripping from the icicles and the rocky walls echoed in the air. The temperature was cold, especially when your clothes were soaked from the fall.

Let’s just say that you are not in a good situation.

You had the small tools to spark a flame but didn’t have any wood at your disposal to make a fire or a torch. One of those things would have eased your predicament. You tried your best to dry your clothes and hair while trying to recover your energy and dress your wounds.

You suffered a serious hit to your side when you fell against the rocks, so you had possibly more than one broken rib, making it challenging to breathe. You had to take slow and shallow breaths as it would sting badly if you took deeper breaths.

You had some cuts on your fingers when you tried to catch yourself. You were now more than grateful you allowed Eda to bandage your hands. If you had not, then your hands would have been in a much worse state.

You suffered a cut right above your right eye. It had bled and swelled up, but luckily your eye remained fine.

You had suffered some bruises and a hit to your legs when the balrog whipped at you. The flames had burned through your trousers so you most likely had burns. You used your scarf to wrap it up tightly and cover it from the cold.

You are in rough shape, but alive. However, you needed to return to Aelon and the rest of the host before your damped clothes froze you to death. It had been... maybe an hour and a half since the fight. You had recovered strength and managed to fight off the blackout: the cold shock nearly induced you in.

Painfully, you picked yourself up. You groaned when your side ached with pain when you stood up. You supported your side and tried to look through the cave.

There was only one way for you to go and it was forward. You doubted the cavern was connected to the cavern within the fortress. You have a feeling that you are somewhere lower in the mountains.

You reached out to Baleria through your bond but felt nothing in return. It was like you were reaching for nothing. You kept yourself calm. You were probably quite deep in the earth and the cold shock likely temporarily cut you off from the bond. It wasn’t a huge problem. Baleria was capable of taking care of herself and you will be able to reconnect your bond once you see her.

Your ears picked up silent humming within the caverns. It sounded like the wind. It was good news because if the wind was capable of blowing through the cavern, then there was a way outside.

Slowly, you began to make your way through the caverns.

Luckily, your search didn’t go too long. You felt the wind on your face get strong when you reached the exit of the caverns.

You walked through and found yourself at the bottom of the mountains and the road that was miles above you. You saw the state of the fortress and that it was completely destroyed. There was no sign of the enemy, so you felt relaxed, now you needed to find Baleria and return to your brother.

The snowstorm had become worse, but you needed to endure it to find help before you froze to death.

You began making your way through the snow toward the south.

The blizzard blew heavily on you. You tried to shield your face from the snow and push through the snow that reached your knees.

Your teeth clattered as your body was shivering from the cold. You tried to move your knuckles and rub your shoulders to create warmth, but your barely dried-up clothes were already freezing against your skin. Your wounds were also not making it easy.

You tried to reach out to Baleria through the bond, but you were still unable to sense her.

You fell on your knees a couple of times but you pushed yourself, trying to keep yourself moving and avoid death that was slowly trying to shake your bones.

You have walked a mile through the storm as the fortress was behind you and you reached the landslide Aelon mentioned.

The landslide was large like Aelon said. It had taken a huge part of the road to the bottom, which gave you some lift from the heavy snow as you walked over it.

At the top of the landslide, you saw a path in the distance that leads back to the road. You felt hope and picked up the pace even though you started to feel tingling around your fingers and toes. If you went faster and moved more, you might be able to spare yourself from the frostbite.

You were halfway near the path, but then your blood fell cold when you heard a distant howl of a warg.

You looked behind you and saw warg riders climbing up the landslide, most likely those who avoided the avalanche and came to find survivors. The orcs noticed you and you started running through the snow.

The wargs howled through the wind as they began to chase you.

The warg riders were slightly slowed down by the thick snow and the wind, giving you the advantage of distance. However, the orcs then began shooting arrows toward you.

You moved in a zigzag to make it difficult to aim at you. Luckily the wind blew hard enough to blow the arrows from their course and make them miss you.

The arrows flew past you and the running gave you warmth and adrenaline from the cold.

You were only a few meters away from the road, but then you heard another arrow and felt a pain in the back of your thigh.

You yelled as you fell to the ground. The snow barely softened your landing. You groaned and hissed in pain as the arrow on the back of your thigh felt like a burning knife in your flesh.

You broke the arrow and tried to force yourself up to no avail.

You felt dread as the warg riders came closer to you and you were unable to get up. Panic began to take a hold of you, but you forced it down and tried one last time to reach out to Baleria.

“Baleria!” you screamed, hoping she would be at least able to hear you.

As the warg riders were about to reach you, your ears were deafened by a loud roar through the wind.

Your beloved dragon flew down from the sky and landed right above you. She roared fiercely at the orcs and the wargs, causing them to stop and bark back at her. You then watched as she then released her fire upon the creatures.

The wargs and their riders shrieked as they burned and backed away from her. You never felt so glad to feel the warmth of her flame against your skin.

Baleria then glanced toward you, looking at your state. You did not have the strength to stand up so she carefully placed her claws beneath you. You grabbed onto her feet with your arms as she picked you up.

“Fly!” you cried out as she flew into the sky, carrying you away from the orc’s reach.

You held onto Baleria as she carried you across the sky, trying to fight off the cold and pain that made you disoriented and struggle to stay awake. You watched as the orcs looked toward you and then you vanished into the dark of the night.

Aelon stared towards the mountains, hoping to catch a glimpse of you and Baleria, but as time passed without any sign of you, he began to fear the worst.

He had managed to find the host after flying out of the mountains. The snowstorm had calmed considerably after they were no longer in the mountains. It was less cold and it made flying much easier.

They had found a place that looked like an old, abandoned farm. There were two intact buildings, one of them was given to Eda to treat the injured and sick while the other was warmed up for the rest to take cover from the cold. However, since there wasn’t enough space for everyone, most of the host decided to camp outside.

There was an old wood storage, so there was enough wood to start fires for the night.

Now the only thing that was missing was you.

Aelon nearly jolted when someone pushed a cup of warm juice toward him.

“Come on, lad. You should drink this. It had been a long night for all of us,” Torim stated as he was the one to hold the cup toward him. Aelon accepted the wooden cup, feeling the warmth through the wood. He thanked the dwarf and glanced toward the mountains.

“I didn’t see (Name) escape the avalanche on Baleria. Do you think she could be…” Aelon asked in a hesitant tone.

“I cannot say since I was not there. Your sister seems like a tough one to crack, so we just have to wait and see if she comes back,” Torim comforted.

“But if she doesn’t come back…” Aelon questioned silently, unable to imagine what he should do without you.

“Something’s coming!” someone yelled and pointed toward the sky.

Baleria flew through the wind, toward the host and the fires that lit the ground. However, as she flew closer, the people panicked.

“Prepare to fight!” Baelen yelled.

“No, wait!” Aelon jumped up. “That’s Baleria! (Name)’s dragon!” Aelon quickly explained, making the people stop and watch as the giant dragon flew toward them.

Baleria crumbled as she began landing. The gusts from her wings caused the flames to fly forward and the people to cover themselves from the wind. The dragon gently placed you down to the ground as she landed, then backed away as Aelon and other people ran up to you.

Aelon felt relief to see you, but then he panicked when he saw an arrow sticking out from the back of your leg. He then touched your skin and paled when your skin felt like ice to his touch.

“Thank the valars! She’s alive!” Baelen exclaimed in relief.

“She’s cold. Like really cold!” Aelon yelled when he noticed how unresponsive you were.

“Move aside!” Eda quickly walked over to them and inspected your state.

“Someone get the fireplace ready and bring dry clothes! She’s freezing to death!” she yelled. Some of the people quickly rushed to one of the houses to do what she said.

“Someone help carry her inside. She needs to be warmed and treated right now,” Eda ordered. “And watch the arrow!” she yelled as two men helped pick you up, supporting your legs and back as they began to carry you to the nearest house.

Aelon watched helplessly as you were carried away. Your eyes were open, but you barely looked conscious. Tears began to run down from his eyes as he already feared that you were not going to make it through the night. Baleria puffed her nostril at him, looking down on him and sensing his distress.

Eweniel came to him with Aegar, slightly weary of Baleria as the dragon stood above them.

“Aelon,” she looked at him worriedly.

“(Name)... she might not make it!” Aelon cried.

“Someone had shot her and she was colder than ice. Eda said she was freezing to death,” he added as his friend came close to him.

“Let’s not lose hope yet! She might still make it!” Eweniel said but her eyes began to glisten with tears as well.

Aelon could not find himself to answer as he began to sob uncontrollably. Eweniel brought him into a hug and the two embraced each other, hoping Eda and the people did their everything to treat your injuries and fight off the cold that threatened to take your life.

Taglist: @natchayaphorn@kimnamnu@thatrandomidiot182 @springfountain @maedhrosiseverything2me

#silmarillion x reader #silmarillion #tolkien #silm fic #middle earth x reader #when the dragons fly #hotd x reader #hotd #middle earth #silmarillion imagines #various x reader #targaryen reader #silmarillion x targaryen reader #maedhros x reader

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whump-card · 1 year ago

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This Death That I Chose: Chapter 14

1449 words

CW: bombings

First, Previous, Masterlist, Next

~~~

The toy in his hands. The car in flames.

Tao opened his eyes to find himself sheltering Marina with his body, who had in turn thrown herself over Lark. Aftershocks continued to reverberate through the building from a bomb that had dropped far too close for comfort, but the structure above them was holding steady for now.

Tao shifted off of the pile with a groan, his leg shrieking painful complaints. The door of the broom closet banged open.

“You okay?” Becca shouted.

Tao watched Marina pull away from Lark. Now that she’d essentially tackled him, it was like some spell had been broken, and she was no longer afraid to touch him, nor did he flinch away from her. Her hands flitted from his knee and shoulder to touch his face, smooth his hair.

“Karlo, Lark, baby, are you okay?”

Lark stared at her, his eyes finally still, drinking in her face like it was the first time he’d seen it in years. Tao realized it probably was; he’d avoided looking at her in every prior meeting.

“I think we’re alright!” he called back to Becca, “Get everyone to the basement, we’ll be just a second!”

Becca nodded and vanished. Tao grabbed Marina’s shoulder.

“Marina, you need to get Lark to the basement, now.”

She nodded breathlessly. “Yes, yes, okay!” She scrambled to her feet and reached down. “Take my hands, hun, let’s go!”

He could only take one of her hands. He held on tight and slowly rose, his left shoulder sliding back up the wall. Marina finally saw his left arm and, except for a hitch in her breath, bravely didn’t react.

“Okay, okay!” She pulled Lark’s good arm over her shoulder, wrapped her hand around his waist, and took a step towards the door; but then she stopped short. “Wait, Tao, we have to get you up too!”

Tao was already dragging himself across the floor to his dropped crutches.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said firmly, “Go.”

“No!” Lark’s voice was strained, but loud. “Tao…” He stared down at Tao, terrified and speechless.

“Go, now!” Tao yelled, and Marina shot Tao one last look of fearful gratitude before she started to drag Lark out. He stumbled along helplessly, looking over his shoulder at Tao, until they were through the door and out of sight.

Tao allowed himself a moment, then, to growl and curse and clutch at his leg in pain. All his movement over the last hour or so had lit a fire in his knee, despite the immobilizing cast, and it was eating him up from the inside. He forced his breathing to slow from an agony-induced panting to measured, controlled breaths. Once he felt like his head had cleared, Tao grabbed the crutches and leaned them up against the wall, got his good leg underneath himself, and painstakingly pushed and climbed to a standing position. His good leg shuddered beneath him, and he quickly positioned the crutches under his arms and shifted his weight onto them.

He made it out into the hallway before the rising scream of the jets returned.

He cursed and tried to swing himself along faster, back toward the main entrance of the building and the stairwell they’d passed on the way in.

One moment he was swinging his crutches, and the next he was slammed forward onto the ground by a powerful, invisible force, and his world was noise, noise, noise. The thunder attacked his ears and didn’t stop, bringing with it a piercing ringing. The air had been knocked out of him by the impact, and when he tried to inhale he choked on thick dust. He couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He could only writhe on the floor, in the dark, in the dust, and pray to God that the building wouldn’t collapse, that the haze would clear, that he wouldn’t die.

He didn’t know how long he lay there, only that it was too long. His lungs burned and spasmed from breathing in the fine debris, and his eyes stung and blinked wildly into the dark. Blood dripped from his chin, where his scrape from falling in the amphitheater had reopened.

Then, a hand.

A hand fisted in the back of his shirt and heaved, dragging him forward a few inches. Over the ringing and roaring in his ears Tao could just make out a grunt of effort, and the scuffling of feet.

Only one hand.

“Lark!” Tao coughed, “Lark, get back downstairs!”

“No!” Lark’s voice was ragged, but stronger than Tao had ever heard it. “I’m not leaving you!” He yanked again, moving Tao’s body another fraction.

“Lark, go, now!” Between the noise that refused to leave his ears and his own labored breathing, Tao couldn’t hear if the bombers were coming back.

“I’m not leaving you!” Lark screamed, and his next pull moved Tao nearly a foot before Lark’s stance slipped and he fell to his knees with a cry. Even then, he turned, bracing his feet against the floor, and dragged Tao a little further with a frenzied growl.

“Lark,” Tao croaked, “Get the fuck out of here!”

“Karlo!” Marina’s voice rang out from further down the dark hall, full of fear and desperation. A beam of light swung through the haze.

“Here!” Lark shouted, “Mom! Help, we’re here!”

“No!” Tao groaned – now more people had left the relative safety of the basement, just for him.

Two sets of footsteps ran forward through the dark, and stopped on either side of him. Tao craned his head to look, just barely making out his rescuers in the light of a small flashlight.

“Becca!”

“You didn’t think I’d leave you behind, did you?” Becca asked as she and Marina lifted Tao’s arms, “Up you go!”

They raised Tao to his feet and started forward, Lark limping along ahead of them, glancing constantly over his shoulder and occasionally reaching out to the wall for support. Becca and Marina panted with exertion, but didn’t complain once. They reached the stairs, which were a little trickier; Lark descended ahead of them into the pitch black, lit only by Becca’s flashlight, leaning on the railing far more heavily than Tao liked – but he was forced to worry about himself as Becca and Marina lowered him step by step as quickly as possible while still being careful. Once in the basement they made their way to the smallest room they had found: another utility closet, where they joined the rest of the remaining Watchmen sitting shoulder-to-shoulder like sardines.

“All of our group made it?” Tao hissed with pain as they lowered him to the concrete floor.

“No,” Becca crouched next to him, “The General made a run for it, and Hannah went outside to see what’s happening. I couldn’t stop her. She hasn’t come back.”

Tao slowly let his head fall back onto the wall behind him. Not Hannah.

“I’m sorry.” The small, choked voice was barely audible over a new wave of distant rumblings, and the continued ringing in Tao’s ears. Tao lifted his head back up.

Lark was sitting with his mother, her hands protectively on his shoulders, his knees drawn up in front of him. Tears shone in his eyes in the meager illumination of the flashlights.

“This is all my fault, I should have done what you told me to, Tao, then none of this would have happened.”

“You don’t know that,” Tao said, his voice hoarse.

“Yes I do,” Lark lowered his forehead onto his knees, “It’s my fault.”

Tao opened his mouth, then thought for a moment.

“Then I forgive you.”

Lark looked up sharply, eyes wide in fearful disbelief.

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Tao shifted and winced, “If it’s your fault, I forgive you. But,” he locked eyes with Lark, “If it’s my fault, do you forgive me?”

Lark stared at him for a long moment. Finally, he nodded.

“I forgive you.”

Marina wrapped her arms around Lark and buried her face in his hair.

“What really – what really would have stopped this,” she choked out, “Is if I never let them take you away from me at all. Oh, Karlo!” she sobbed, “I’m so sorry!”

Lark just looked at Tao, sorrowful and lost, not sure what to say. It was still a truth shared between just the two of them that he wasn’t quite Karlo anymore.

Tao reached out and took Lark’s hand.

“You’re here,” he said simply, managing an exhausted smile, “You’re here.”

The door flew open, and the entire room snapped to attention, some drawing weapons; but it was Hannah, dust-streaked and wild-eyed, panting and grinning.

“It’s Canada!” she shouted, “It’s fucking Canada!”

~~~

First, Previous, Masterlist, Next

Taglist: @angst-after-dark, @sunshiline-writes, @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @whump-em, @morning-star-whump, @thecyrulik, @honeycollectswhump, @pumpkin-spice-whump

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #this death that i chose #cw bombings

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chesters-ocs · 19 days ago

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something overtook me. i just like it when theyre teenagers and fucking stupid and then have to face minor consequences for their minor actions. its funny to me

wc: 1k

The unlocked window of the 2nd floor bedroom is slowly pushed open, as the teen climbs in. He quietly closes it shut afterwards, before glancing around the dark room.

"Psst, Syl!" he whisper-yelled to the lump under the blankets.

He gets no response.

"Syl?"

"... Wha.." he grumbles, turning around in the bed, scowling at the intruder who woke him up from the nap.

"Sleeping?"

"Fuck do you think?" Sylvester cusses, his voice creakier than usual, eyes puffy.

"God, you look like shit, man," he muses, pressing a warm hand to his forehead, before pulling back with a raised brow at the heat.

"Your dads know you're sick?"

"..."

"Sylvester..."

"Don't wanna worry em'," he waves the concern off, to no awail, as his boyfriend just scoffs, sitting down next in the chair across the room.

"Hmh. Mind if i stay around then?"

"Do whatever. Night," Sylvester groans, rolling over again and curling up under the blankets.

"Night. Dream of me~" Adam teases, though not getting any response, except a slight snore. He fell asleep already.

The teen just looks around the dim room then. It's a mess of stuff everywhere, ranging from walls covered in band posters to a pile of mystery items on the dresser. His gaze briefly lingers on the bright red bass guitar: a near and dear possession of Sylvester's. He recalls something about his buddy gifting it to him so they could start their band.

Leaning back in the chair, Adam just stared at the ceiling, before lighting a cigarette and then toying with his lighter, flickering the flame on and off constantly, finding the repeated action soothing. As for the cigarette smoke... he'll ventilate later, Adam figured as he watched the smoke dissipate in the air.

It was a peaceful moment, just him, the feel of tobacco in his lungs and the slow breathing of his boy on the bed.

Pocketing the lighter as the cigarette neared to its end, he was startled by the door opening, being too zoned out to hear footsteps of one of the grownups approaching.

"What the fuck..." the low voice of one of the father's muttered, causing Adam to jump.

"Jesus-!" he swore in surprise, accidentally extinguishing the cigarette butt on his own skin, followed by more assorted curses in languages Vikram had only heard his friends speak.

"Adam?! What are you- Hey, show me that!" he ordered, already grabbing the hand the teen was clutching in an effort to self-soothe the burn, as if he could smell the burn itself. His intention to stay quiet in his sleeping son's room out the window right away.

"Piss off! It's fine," the teen attempted to pull away, to little success.

Not taken aback by the attitude, the father just yanked him upright from the chair, a clear instruction on his tongue: "Bathroom, now. Hand under running cool water, but not freezing. Got it?"

"And if i don't?" Adam challenged.

"Then I take away those fucking cigarettes of yours for good."

"Real scary," the teen rolled his eyes at the threat, not at all impressed by it, which worked to grind Vikram's gears further.

"Just go already. I need to ventilate this place now, thanks to you! I'll check in 5 minutes, so you know."

Sighing, Adam left, begrudgingly following the advice.

In the meanwhile, Vikram opened the windows wide, wanting to get rid of the smoke plaguing his son's room. He briefly wondered why the smoke alarm hadn't picked up on it, but if he were to check, the man would find no batteries within the device. Though, it's a problem for a different day, as the teen stirred from the fever-induced nap finally, the loud yawn drawing the attention from his father.

"... Ugh... Adam?" he slurred, sitting upright in bed. One hand reached up to rub the sleep from his eyes. Upon stretching, he found himself in the midst of a coughing fit, likely from the smoke.

He grunted softly as a hand found it's way into his hair, stroking the dyed hair, which was followed by a familiar voice, which held the warmth of a hundred suns: "He's in the bathroom. Sleep well?"

At first, all he got was a slight wince, as the teenager stifled the coughs, composing himself, which morphed into a low, needy whine. The sound, ever so uncharacteristic, caused a spike of concern.

"Sylvester?"

"Mmm...?"

"Are you alright?"

"... Dunno," he drawled lazily, which was when Vikram checked his temperature. He almost didn't want to pull his hand back, with how heavily his son leaned into his touch, not missing the small purr which escaped.

Though instinct overtook him, and as much as he wanted to stay and comfort the sick teen, he knew he needed to at least ask his husband to make stew for their kid, as well as to check on the little troublemaker who, surprisingly, had not left the bathroom.

As the father stood up, his heart almost broke at the soft whine, but he persisted.

"Cold," was a one word complaint which finally set the man into action. Swiftly rising and reaching the still-open windows, he closed them, deeming the room ventilated enough for the time being.

"Go back to sleep, I'll wake you up for dinner," he urged from the doorway, before shutting it completely.

Once in the hall, his gaze flickered to the other teenager in the house right now, who was now wiping his hands on a towel, the bathroom door wide open.

"Adam! With me. Now."

He was surprised when he actually complied without a word, bringing him to the kitchen, where the burn soothing gels were kept. He uncorked one and passed it to the injured teen, grimacing slightly as he finally got a good look at the skin discoloration, which will surely not go away for a handful of months at the very least. Probably will scar too.

His husband looked at the two of them warmly: "Oh, hello! Something happen?"

"Yes. Could you make that one soup Sylvester likes? Adam will explain what happened in the meanwhile."

"What- Hey!"

#chess writes #oc butcher tag #oc sylvester tag #love making entirely new works instead of working on my drafts #this one was inspired by a doodle i drew during lunch and then ended up getting carried away with. like. too carried away #insert shameless art blog promotion here. because yeah. they live rent free in my head. forever

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angelamajiki · 4 years ago

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PARINGS: Pro Hero! Dabi x Sister! Reader

TW: yandere, incest, no con, voyeurism, choking, burning, unprotected/no prep sex, breeding/creampies, snowballing, public sex, degradation, lots of dirty talk

AN: WHEEWW my first fic in a while, so excited for my first join intro collab!! thank you to the lovely jo for writing it <33 enjoy

A BNHarem Server Collab! Check out the other works here.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

Christ, what a load of bullshit the news was nowadays. Constantly whining and squealing about what heroes did and didn’t do, promoting fear-mongering like it was the hottest trend. Between your father and two older brothers dedicating their life to the cause of justice, the world always felt just a little safer to you, the naive little thing that you were. And tonight was no exception.

Despite the rapidly increasing crime rates, your judgment to grab a couple of drinks in the city with your friends was hardly swayed. The stress of it all was getting to you and you’d love nothing more to drink your heart out at one of the few spots still left open. It was a sleazy place, but it was fun. If anything, you found a bar in the area where your eldest brother was currently stationed patrolling.

Touya had always been protective of you ever since the two of you were children, and he carried that same possessiveness well into your adulthood. Always chasing off any potential suitors, keeping you out of trouble, and generally being a menace to anyone who thought they were good enough to be around his favorite little sister.

By the end of the night, stumbling around drunkenly was the only thing keeping you upright as you made your way out of the club and onto the street, looking for a taxi to get you home. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, a mess of blue and red lighting up the darkened streets.

“Hey sweetheart. Need a hand?”

Grubby hands met your arms the same time the cool air of the night did, tugging and pulling at you to come closer, wherever that may be. Jaunts and laughter echoed off the buildings, only adding to the haziness the alcohol induced. “What’s a pretty little thing like yourself doing out here all on your lonesome?”

Weak attempts to push the group of assaulters off you were in vain as they groped and squeezed your body at their pleasure. “Come on, we’re just trying to keep ya company. Right, boys?”

“Stop..”

Your whine came across much more pathetic than you could have ever hoped, only earning more chuckles from the men. “Just relax, sweetheart. We’ll take good care of you.”

Blue flames danced around the group of you, closing the lot of you against the building wall in a small circle of fire.

“Will you now? Last I checked, I'm the only man suited for that.” Touya was less than amused to have found out from Fuyumi that you traveled into the city given its state, even more so when he saw how drunk and disorderly you were being.

“T-Touya-nii!”

The men untangled themselves from you with ease, tossing you into the arms of your expectant brother, who was more than glad to pull you into a tight embrace. “Shit! It's the number three, Heatstroke!”

The comforting warmth of his body and scent of his cologne settled your frantic nerves, tucking yourself closer into his arms. “Honestly, it’s like you're asking for it at this point.”

Your heart sank low in your chest, but you couldn't find the strength to move away from him as he scowled down at you.

“Look at what you're wearing, you little tease. Bet you would have loved to have them violate you, huh slut?”

Never has Touya been so venomous with you before; it made your heart hurt, even more, to see your beloved nii-san be so cruel.

“Don’t you worry, that’s why your big brother is here to show you who you really belong to.”

Shoved against the wall, he pinned your trembling form with his right knee in between your legs and his hands wandering over your skimpy dress.

“You boys can stick around to watch; let a real man show you how it's done.”

Flames singed at your dress, burning it to ashes to expose you in the cool wind of the night. Hot fingers pressed into your skin, littering marks in their wake before they wrapped around your throat. “You were just begging for nii-san to come to save your slutty ass, huh, princess? I know you checked my patrol schedule before ending up at this dive.”

His hand tightened around your neck, his lips at your ear. “Wanted nii-san to come put you in your place, yeah? After fuckin’ teasing me all these years, you finally cracked me. Are you proud of yourself, little girl?”

A whine slipped from your constricted throat, your smaller hand gripping at the large one squeezing you with everything it had. “And now you've got an audience to witness my ownership over you. You're mine, little girl.”

Finally releasing your throat, his hands traveled down to your chest and groped at your roughly, pinching and pulling at your soft, sensitive nipples. Bile was rising in your throat as you drowned in your own fear, feeling him drag you into the depths of depravity.

“What’s the matter, imouto? I thought you said I was your favorite. You're hurting my feelings, y’know.”

“Touya, please-”

A scoff slapped you hard in the face as his knee jerked up against your cunt. “Don’t start with me. I know who you really are and what you really want, even better than yourself.”

His words stabbed at your heart, and his wandering hands only seemed to pour salt over the wounds. “You’re nothing more than my whore, little sister.”

Hips ground against your backside in a slow, teasing manner, groans pushing past his lips as he did so. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

His erection was pressed flush against you, straining in his pants before he unzipped himself. At this point, you were more than sobered up running on fear and adrenaline alone. Your panties were ripped clean off with his free hand while the other stroked his hardening cock. “Look at me.”

The tip was aligned with your hole, rubbing slightly to gather the minimal wetness between your lips. “I said look at me.”

Teary eyes peaked up at him through wet lashes, silently pleading with a man who was not known for mercy.

“Good fuckin’ girl, so obedient for your big brother.”

With one snap of his hips, Touya fully sheathed himself inside of your tight cunt, groaning at the way you squealed for him. “Aw, you like that, huh, princess. Feeling good?”

A warbled moan was the only response you could give him as he slowly began to pull out. The alcohol had you buzzing enough to block out the pain of the stretch, and damn did you feel filled to the brim.

“Can’t wait to breed this greedy little cunt of yours.”

His pace was slow, agonizingly so. Touya couldn't help but savor every second of the first time having been inside you, especially after dreaming about it for so long. God, if it didn't turn him on to have an audience, knowing that these men knew he was fucking his sister.

What would the media think? God, the news cycle would be ripped to shreds tomorrow over this breaking story. But hey, no PR is bad PR.

The thought of finally having staked his claim in you almost had him coming prematurely, but he had to hold out for your very first time together, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Heh, your crying face was so cute. Those tears weren't shy by any means and neither were your sobs. It's alright, you’ll learn to love being Touya’s cocksleeve.

“Say you love me.”

An impossible request when you're being violated by the person you held dearest to your heart.

His pace had picked up brutally, slamming into you without care for his flames spreading wildly nor the group of assaulters who seemed to vanish once they had the opening to.

“I-I love you, nii-san! I love you!”

Your cries were shrill and whiny, echoing into the chaotic night. The grip on your hips was heating up, so much so that his handprints were burned into your love handles.

“Good girl, good little slut.”

His breathing was erratic, hot against your neck as he growled and grunted into your ear. “Gonna let nii-san breed this pretty little pussy? Yes, you are. I know you are because you're fuckin’ mine, bitch.”

Moaning out your name, Touya came deep inside your womb, thick ropes of his cum painting your insides. You were soon to follow thanks to his thumb against your clit, causing you to writhe and whine in his arms.

Utterly spent, you rested against the brick wall you were pinned to, feeling the cum drip out of your still filled hole.

“Let’s get you home and into my bed, princess. I gotta go have a chat with Dad and Shouto, let ‘em know you’re fully off limits now.”

— tagging: @libiraki @bonesoftheimpala @tomurasprincess @sightoru

#yandere dabi x reader #yandere dabi #dabi #dabi x reader #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha #yandere bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #yandere x reader #yandere

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exoticarmyofcrowns · 5 years ago

Text

sing for me | kth

pairing: taehyung x fem!reader

summary: you have been living with your roommate for well over a year and the unresolved sexual tension between the two of you finally comes to a head

genre: romance, smut (VERY 18+ not for the littles), roommates au

warnings: masturbation, vouyerism??, fingering, thigh riding, attempted dirty talk, breath play, slight power play???, excessive use of the word “baby” and other pet names, kinda awkward discussion of feelings thrown in bc my characters never shut up when i want them to get it on sorry

word count: ~6.6k

a/n: hello~ um... i have no explanation for this. i am like half ashamed and half proud of this??? idek man. all i know is that i couldn’t have done it without @sugaerie so thank you so much my queen i love uuuu

You step through the door of your apartment, feet practically screaming with relief as you kick off your shoes.

Work was really kicking your ass lately. Add that together with the stress of grad school and you had a deadly concoction not even your favorite tea and copious amount of ibuprofen could protect you from. Your job as a cashier was pretty easy, you can’t lie, but constantly standing and running around the store did a number on your poor feet. Thank god you had weekends off—a perk of having worked there so long you practically had the manager wrapped around your pinky when it came time for scheduling—so you could sleep in for once.

Tossing your keys on the counter, you spare a glance at the clock above the stove as you walk into your small kitchen. It’s about a quarter to midnight. You figure Taehyung is still out with his friends, hitting up one of the bars downtown.

You sigh heavily at the thought of your roommate. Not because anything wrong with him. Taehyung is nothing short of incredible. He’s sweet and kind, always greeting you with the most adorable boxy smile that makes you feel like the only person in the universe. People gravitate toward him just as easily as he draws them in, a natural warmth that instantly puts others at ease in his presence. He’s generous and thoughtful, never missing an opportunity to surprise you at work with a coffee or just to see you. Those shifts are your favorites and maybe you’re a little spoiled because you often find yourself glancing at the entrance more often than not, trying to see if you can spot his dark, curly head from your register.

Not to mention Taehyung is incredibly stunning. Long dark curls frame his face in the most intimidatingly beautiful way it’s often hard to look away from him. He’s got piercing dark eyes that can stare right into your soul but that also crinkle beautifully at the corners when he smiles. His fashion sense is killer, obscure brands and fabrics lining his closet almost like a museum. You’re not sure how but he can wear just about anything and still manage to look like he just stepped off a runway.

He works as a freelance photographer and has quite the sizeable following on social media. He’s passionate about his work and it shows in the quality of his photos. You know next to nothing about photography but even you can see that the beauty and skill with which he wields his camera is nothing short of magical. Commissions are not hard to come by for him, though you’re more than positive it has just as much to do with Taehyung himself as it does his beautiful portfolio.

No, there is absolutely nothing wrong with Taehyung.

Only that he’s perfect and you have a massive crush on him.

Exhaling tiredly, you run a heavy hand down your face. Anyone else would be ecstatic about having such a wonderful, attractive roommate but you know things like this can only end in disaster. More than anything, Taehyung is your friend—your best friend, you would argue—and involving feelings into your relationship can only end poorly. The whole roommates thing just adds another layer of complication that is better left alone. You don’t shit where you eat, after all.

But it’s difficult. Taehyung is just so nice and likeable it’s unreal. You often find your thoughts wandering to dangerous places when you both are curled up on the couch together during movie nights, blankets and pillows and snacks scattered all over the living room, while he curls his body around you without a second thought. He’s naturally tactile, you try to remind yourself in an effort to calm your racing pulse but then he’ll laugh at something happening in the movie, his cheeks plumping up adorably, and you know you’re a lost cause as you feel your heart melt all over again.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to ignore your feelings for your roommate and you know something has to give eventually. In the last couple of weeks, there seemed to have been a shift in the air whenever you were around each other. Taehyung was still your adorable and playful friend but the hugs seemed longer, the touches more tender and lingering. You even think you’ve caught him staring at you a few times, a strange new darkness simmering beneath the chocolate irises.

Flushing with embarrassment and shame, you bury your face into your hands. Of course not. You’re just being ridiculously optimistic. You pull out a clean glass from the cupboard and fill it with water from the sink, hoping to dampen the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Cleaning up, you decide to pamper yourself with a long hot shower complete with a nice sugar scrub and an in-shower face mask. You even spring for a shave, already excited for the feel of your sheets against the smooth, moisturized expanse of your legs. It’s the little things.

You hum lightly under your breath, already feeling the residual tension from the week bleed out as you gently massage your favorite lotion into your skin. Finishing up, you feel much more relaxed and so wonderfully clean you can’t help the smile that graces your lips as you move to head back to your room.

“___.”

It’s faint, so faint you think you imagine it but it still makes you freeze as you step out of the bathroom. Glancing down the short hallway that leads to your room, you blink for several seconds and wait to see if you hear it again. When nothing happens, you feel your heart resume its normal pace before rolling your eyes at yourself and continuing on to your room.

“___.”

This time it’s unmistakable and you can’t help the way the sound of your name makes you jump in fear. Now you’re in full-on panic mode and you anxiously scan the apartment. Your eyes catch on the faint light emanating from Taehyung’s room and you relax slightly. How had you not realized he was home already?

Your relief quickly morphs into confusion. Why would Taehyung be calling for you? Did he need something? Was he hurt? Stifling your self-induced panic, you quietly make your way over to his door. Despite having been in his room multiple times before, something feels off now. Almost like you shouldn’t be there. You can’t quite put your finger on it but something about the whole situation has you on edge…

You shake it off. It’s fine. You’ll just casually peep through the slightly ajar door and make sure everything is okay before marching off to bed to enjoy your evening in. Simple as that, right?

Wrong.

Whatever you thought you were going to see past the small opening of his door doesn’t hold a candle to the image that will undoubtedly be burned into your memory forever.

There, laying casually on his bed, is Taehyung. That in and of itself is not out of the ordinary. Except for the fact that he is naked save for the boxers he normally wears to bed, with a hand pulling desperately at his painfully red length.

It’s suddenly hard to breathe, air catching so violently in your throat you nearly choke audibly. Slapping a hand over your mouth and nose, you will yourself to calm down enough to take in the scene before you. Taehyung’s long legs are splayed almost elegantly across his sheets, deliciously thick thigh muscles clenching and unclenching from his ministrations. His hand glides skillfully over his cock, alternating between slow, languid tugs and fast, unyielding strokes. He throws his head back before tucking his chin in briefly, tongue flicking out to wet his lips before he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. A hiss of pleasure melts into a throaty groan and heat pools rapidly in the pit of your stomach.

A voice in the back of your mind screams for you to get away while you can. You shouldn’t be here. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve lusted after your roommate, how long you’ve wanted to push him against any flat surface and have your way with him or let him have his way with you. It doesn’t matter that you want to do couple-y things with him too, like hold his hand and kiss those soft, pink lips because you are roommates—friends—and a fling like that could only end in disaster, especially when he doesn’t feel the same way. It doesn’t matter and you have to leave now before—

“___,” Taehyung groans once again, hands caressing up his lean stomach and you’re distracted by the way his muscles ripple with the attention. “Are you just going to stand there or are you gonna come help me?”

Something between a squeak and a cough leaves your throat in that instant and you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. You can’t bring yourself to move for a good second but Taehyung lets out another low moan and your feet move of their own accord into the bedroom.

If you thought he was beautiful before, he is absolutely glowing in the soft light of his bedside lamp. A light sheen of sweat coats his skin and you are overwhelmed with the urge to lick a stray bead that travels down his neck. Your breath is coming out in short pants and you try to subtly squeeze your thighs together to ease the ache. This does not go unnoticed.

“Hello, darling.” The words leave his lips in a low purr and a shiver zips down your spine. He’s smirking at you, hands still gripping his length but his pace has slowed significantly as if giving you a show. He seems perfectly comfortable despite the lack clothing, completely unfazed by your blatant staring. Like he wants you to look at him and only him. The thought has your face burning.

“T-Tae, what are you doing?”

“Isn’t is obvious, sweetheart? Surely I don’t need to spell it out for you, hm?” A particularly wet pass over his dick has him sucking in a gasp and you find you can’t look away. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and Taehyung fixates on the motion, pupils blown wide and darkening further.

“Although you haven’t picked up on my blatant flirting so maybe I should.”

That snaps you out of your reverie. “Flirting?” You hate the way your voice sounds so weak and vulnerable but it can’t be helped.

“I haven’t exactly been subtle, ___. I’ve been—fuck—I’ve been trying to drop hints for the last few weeks now, hell, the last few months but you never n-notice.” He tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth again before releasing a heavy sigh.

Your head is spinning. This Taehyung is so different from the one you’re used to—yes, he’s still the same incorrigible flirt, but where he is usually giggly and playful he is now sensual and downright sinful. You think back over the past few weeks, the lingering touches, the casual hugs. Taehyung has always been touchy but they had felt charged with something else entirely. It’s good to know you hadn’t been making that up.

“I…” You truly don’t know what to say for yourself. “I didn’t know,” you murmur, feeling very very small all of a sudden.

Taehyung immediately stills at your tone and misinterprets it as discomfort. “Oh. Oh god, ___, I’m so sorry.” Wrenching his hand away from himself, he scrambles on the bed, looking up at you with earnest, remorseful eyes. The waistband of his boxers snap shut in his frenzy and you almost mourn the loss of the desire-tinted skin. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just thought that maybe you…maybe you felt the same?”

You’re so taken aback by the complete 180 he’s made that your response gets caught in the whirlwind of your thoughts, This is more like the Taehyung you know, kind and considerate, and you almost forget the situation you’re in. Almost.

“N-No!” you stammer, eager to assuage his uncertainty. “I mean, yes, I-I…” You close your eyes tightly. “I do…feel the same.”

The way Taehyung looks at you after your stunted confession has your heart auditioning for a marathon and goosebumps prickling across your skin. You may as well have just hung all the stars in the sky with the amount of adoration swimming in his warm irises.

“I’m glad,” he grins brightly at you and you can’t help but smile back. You bite your lip out of habit and the smile fades from his face as he watches you.

Swallowing thickly, he rasps, “___, c-can I kiss you? Please.”

The desperation in his voice is not something you expect and a jolt of electricity zings down your spine. Dazed, you nod. That’s all Taehyung needs before he practically launches himself to his feet to grab you by the waist and pull you to him. His hand—the other hand that was not touching himself—cradles your face as he bends down to brush your noses together. A moment passes, Taehyung staring into your eyes to give you room to pull away. When you don’t, he smiles briefly to himself before surging forward to connect your lips.

The kiss is soft and warm, exchanging only the slightest bit of pressure as if you both are worried that you’ll frighten the other. Which is ridiculous, you think, since you have yet to run away. You bounce up on your toes to alleviate the reach for Taehyung and kiss him harder. He hums appreciatively as he nips at you, the sound tingling from your lips and down the length of your body. You shiver in his hold and move to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. The distance disappears between you two and you feel his arousal poking at your stomach. You break the kiss to look down between you, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Glancing up at Taehyung from beneath your eyelashes, you marvel at how positively wrecked he looks. He’s still damp with sweat but his mouth is slightly swollen from your kisses and his eyes are so blown out they’re practically black with desire. You feel yourself clench hopelessly as the blood rushes loudly in your ears.

“Can I—Can I watch you?”

You’re just as surprised as Taehyung is to hear those words leave your mouth but you’re not quite thinking straight, not when he looks like that and you finally have him in a way you never thought you would. It’s overwhelming, to say the least, and you want to savor every moment together.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to be faring much better, the request making his breathing turn heavy as he leans down to rest his forehead against yours. “Are you sure, ___? Are you absolutely sure? Because once we start, I don’t think I can stop.”

Peeking up at him coyly, you respond, “Who says I’ll want you to?”

A beat. Then, Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut and practically growls at your words. His arm tightens around your waist and crushes your body to him as if trying to mold you together. You love it.

“Then sit back and enjoy the show.” His lips quirk into a lascivious smirk before crashing your mouths together once again. This kiss is different than the previous one, not one bit of hesitation lingering now. Taehyung’s tongue licks along the seam of your mouth insistently and your legs turn to jelly as you open up for him.

The kiss is over too soon but before you can mourn the loss of his lips, he pushes you down onto the bed and resumes his spot against the pillows. Tugging on his boxers, Taehyung pulls them down to discard them somewhere behind you. Heat pulses through you at the sight of his exposed flesh and your thighs rub together once again.

Taking himself in hand, Taehyung spreads his legs and begins a torturously slow pace. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of this.” All the air in your lungs leaves you at the confession. You can’t even think clearly, much less think up a semi-coherent response, but he doesn’t seem deterred by your silence.

“I’ve always—shit—I’ve always wanted t-to kiss that pretty little mouth of yours, ravage it until you can’t think. Your mouth, your neck, anything I could get my lips on.” Your eyes eagerly take in the sight of the milky substance beading at the tip of his cock and making his passes even messier.

“Ah, fuck, I-I wondered what kind of sounds you would make. If you would gasp and sigh or if I could make you scream.” He twists his wrist as he glides over the head of his length and he gasps out loud, his breathing rough and ragged and oh so lovely.

“I’ve thought about what it would take you to make you beg for it.”

A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it and heat blooms across your cheeks. Taehyung stills for a moment before resuming with a smirk.

“Oh? Does my baby like the sound of that? Of me making you beg for my cock?” You nod, stunned and aroused beyond belief. It’s as if your brain has short-circuited and all you can think about is the fantasy that Taehyung so beautifully illustrates for you.

“Dirty girl,” he chuckles, tonguing the corner of his lips. “I should have guessed at what a desperate little thing you’d be. Asking me to stroke my dick while you watch.” He tuts playfully, eyes never leaving yours.

Breathing has become steadily more difficult and you’re acutely aware of the dampness between your legs. You want nothing more than to relieve the ache but you’re so transfixed on the beautiful man laid out in front of you that you can do nothing more than squeeze your thighs together.

“Look at you,” Taehyung’s eyes rake down your form, taking in your lust-darkened gaze and heaving chest before lingering on the apex of your tensed thighs. “I bet you’re dripping, aren’t you? So eager to take my cock that I could just slip right in if I wanted to, hm?” Again you nod, fingers twitching as you grip the sheets beneath you. He laughs lowly and the sound washes over you and settles deep in your stomach.

“God, I bet you’d taste so sweet on my tongue. I would spend hours just buried between your legs if you’d let me. Every time you prance around the apartment in those scraps you call shorts, I just want to bend you over the couch and fuck you until you can’t walk. Would you like that, baby girl? Want me to sink my cock into that sweet cunt of yours? Make it mine, over and over again?”

You’re practically panting now, desperate sounds ripping themselves from your throat as Taehyung stares at you intensely, hand never faltering on his swollen erection. He seems to take pity on you because in the next moment, he murmurs a deep, “Come here, baby.”

Snapping into action, you nearly stumble over yourself in your haste to be close to him. He smiles, fondness flickering in his eyes beneath the lust at your eagerness. You crawl forward until you are settled on your knees between his legs. A feeling of shyness settles over you—absurd, given the circumstances—and you find yourself unable to meet his gaze. A hand winds around your waist and pulls you to him, forcing you to straddle one of his thighs. You feel a finger slip under your chin to coax you into looking at him. When you do, Taehyung offers a sweet smile.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” You go to nod but Taehyung clicks his tongue. “I need to hear you say it, ___.”

“Yes.” You’re proud that your voice doesn’t shake. “I want you, Tae.”

The finger on your chin turns into a forceful grip as he crashes your mouths together once again. It’s messy and desperate and you can’t help the loud moan that Taehyung swallows gleefully. You welcome his tongue into your mouth and when you give it a pointed suck, he lets out an answering groan low in his throat.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he pants against your cheek, planting wet kisses down your jaw and to the length of your neck. His lips meet the collar of your shirt but before he can even ask, you’re wrenching it off your body and onto the ground.

Taehyung seems at a loss for the first time since you’d walked into his room and you revel in the swell of pride that overtakes you. He can’t help but ogle greedily at the newly-exposed skin and you feel powerful knowing that you have his undivided attention.

Shaking himself out of his daze, Taehyung places a gentle kiss right above your heart before slowly making his way lower. The gesture is not lost on you and you find yourself melting further into his touch as your hand wraps around to tangle in the hairs at the nape of his neck. You can feel two hands ghost up your sides to tease the undersides of your breasts and you inhale sharply, chest pushing up into his mouth. Taehyung breathes a laugh onto your skin before cupping the soft flesh and placing almost reverent kisses upon their stiff peaks.

“Tae, please,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut at the onslaught of sensations he is inflicting on you.

“Hmm, I like hearing you beg for me.” His tongue flicks against your pebbled nipple and you cry out, unable to hold back anymore. “My desperate baby girl.”

“T-Tae, ah, please don’t tease.”

“Don’t tease?” He punctuates the question with a sharp squeeze. “But you’ve been teasing me for well over a year, no? Walking around the apartment practically naked, with nothing but a t-shirt or these poor excuse for shorts.” Taehyung’s hands leave a lingering pinch before gliding down the length of your torso to the hem of your sleep shorts. Hooking a finger inside, he snaps the elastic back in place and you gasp. “No panties?” He asks in wonder, eyes fixed on your lower half.

Swallowing, you murmur, “I-I don’t usually wear them to bed.”

He lets out a throaty groan. “Fuck, you really—” He cuts himself off with another sharp exhale, head tipping backward as he squeezes his eyes shut as if in pain. Something nudges the side of your thigh and you look down at forgotten length between you, swollen and nearly purple. As if in a daze, you reach for the turgid flesh and let the tips of your fingers graze the head tentatively. Taehyung’s eyes snap open to look at you in shock and you freeze.

“Do that again. Please.”

You can hardly deny him when he looks so fucked out beneath you and your hand begins a tentative pace, stroking his dick like you had witnessed him do earlier.

“That’s it, atta girl,” he groans into your shoulder, kissing the skin almost absentmindedly. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your stomach plummets at his words, inner muscles clenching almost painfully. You’re so turned on your shorts are most likely unsalvageable but seeing Taehyung so wrecked and because of you makes it all worthwhile.

Keeping up the pace on his cock, you don’t even notice your hips begin to lower onto his thigh and rock down against him until he sits up from where he’d begun to slouch in pleasure, leg knocking up into your dripping heat.

“Fuck, baby. Look at you, grinding on my thigh like that.” His words send your heart stuttering in your chest. “Your poor little cunt has been neglected, hm? You’ve been such a good girl for me, stroking my cock and getting me ready. I think you deserve a reward.”

Taehyung grips your hips with bruising force and helps you grind harder onto his leg. The drag of your shorts against your swollen clit is a little too harsh but the sheer dampness of the fabric makes the glide much easier.

“I can feel you dripping onto my leg. You’re soaked, baby.” You’re delirious at this point, incoherent noises spilling from your lips as you work yourself over Taehyung’s thigh. It’s not long before you feel the pleasure mounting within you, hips pistoning back and forth even faster.

“That’s it, baby girl. Use me. Make yourself cum on my thigh. Get yourself nice and ready for my cock.” His hands run soothingly across your skin, sending your nerves on fire. You whine as you feel your orgasm approach with each pass of your hips.

“Come on, babe. Give it to me. Let me feel you cum all over me.”

With a strangled cry, you buck against Taehyung uncontrollably as you finally release all over his leg. You curl into him, hands tangling into his hair and tugging in order to keep yourself grounded. Your hips gradually slow as you ride out your high and you find it a struggle to catch your breath. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, letting the aftershocks wash over you.

“Oh, ___,” Taehyung murmurs in wonder. Almost sheepishly, you peek up at him from beneath your eyelashes to see him staring at you with such unadulterated reverence and want that your heart skips a beat. “You did so well, baby girl,” he rasps, lips ghosting over your face tenderly.

Face warm, you try to redirect the attention to him and begin placing gentle kisses along the length of his neck. Taehyung tilts his head back, eyelids fluttering prettily at your ministrations. Smirking to yourself, you trail your hand teasingly down the length of his chest to make your way down to his dick but he stops you with a firm hand around your wrist. Before you can even open your mouth to question him, he’s already flipped you over onto your back.

“Hmm, still so eager for my cock.” He nips playfully at your bottom lip, laughing when you move to chase him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’re getting there. I have to get you ready first.”

Two of his fingers brush the swell of your mouth and you open immediately to take them in. Taehyung inhales sharply as you give them a pointed suck, eyes narrowing slightly to let you know that you will certainly pay for that later. The thought sends a shot of arousal to your core.

Taehyung removes his fingers and wastes no time in bringing them to the apex of your thighs. He makes quick work of your soiled shorts and suddenly, he’s all you can feel. A single digit swipes the length of your slit to circle around your clit, eliciting a hiss from the both of you.

“Oh, baby, you’re so wet,” Tae groans, in a trance. “All for me.”

He wasn’t really speaking to you but you nod anyway. “Yes, Tae. All for you.”

Eyes snapping to yours, he sinks one finger into your weeping heat and watches your face for any signs of discomfort. You tense slightly before relaxing and sending him a reassuring smile as a signal that he can continue. He pumps his finger in and out, letting you get used to the sensation before gently slipping in another. Scissoring the digits, Taehyung furrows his brows and bites his lip as he forces himself to be patient.

You, on the other hand, are having a much harder time controlling yourself. Soft whimpers escape you with every pump of Taehyung’s fingers. One particularly potent curl has you gasping for air as an animalistic growl tears itself from your throat, hips bucking harshly upwards.

“Gah, Tae—please,” you pant, hands flailing wildly for something to hold onto before settling on his hair.

“Anything, darling.” Taehyung inserts yet another finger and you begin to really feel the stretch, so much that it nearly becomes uncomfortable. A small noise of discomfort makes the man above you pause but he mouths at your temple reassuringly. “I know, baby, I know. But I have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

Right then, he curls his fingers just as he did before and you’re seeing stars again. He places adoring kisses along your jaw before dipping for another taste of your mouth. You eagerly accept him, opening fully to him as your hips roll along with the rhythm of his fingers.

Breaking away, you pant, “I’m ready, Tae.”

“Are you sure?” Looking deeply into your eyes, he must find what he’s looking for because he nods lightly and kisses you breathless. He reaches over to his nightstand and rummages in his drawer. The crinkle of a wrapper hits your ears, making your face warm slightly as the reality of the situation hits you full force. You were really doing this. The fact that the man that you’ve pined after for so long is here with you—actually likes you—is so surreal you’re not quite sure how to process it but you’ll be damned if you didn’t enjoy every second of it.

Once he has rolled the condom on, Taehyung moves upward to cup your face between his hands. “Before we begin, are you absolutely s—”

“Tae, I swear to god if you do not get inside me in the next three seconds I will flip us over and do it myself.”

Taehyung blinks before chuckling. “There will be plenty of time for that, sweetheart. But for right now…” His smile turns sinister, prompting anticipation to swirl deliciously in your stomach. “I’m calling the shots.”

He takes himself in hand and rubs the tip up and down the length of your folds. Your eyes flutter when Taehyung collects your pooling arousal, making a complete mess of you.

When he pushes in, your mouth drops open in a silent gasp. He’s big—of course he is—bigger now that he’s entering you and you can’t deny that the stretch is more than welcome. You glance up at Taehyung’s face and are pleased to see that he looks just as wrecked as you feel. He locks eyes with you, dark irises burning with lust but also something deeper. Something…soft and warm. The thought sends your heart pounding in your chest.

As he bottoms out, Taehyung makes sure to probe your face for any signs of discomfort. He doesn’t find any and tentatively thrusts into you, eyes never leaving yours as he does. You gasp, nerves tingling as a whine tears itself from your throat, soft and breathy.

“That’s it, angel,” Taehyung pants in your ear. “Sing for me. Let me know just how good I make you feel.”

You clench helplessly, reveling in the low grunt it earns from the man above you. He begins to pick up the pace, hips snapping fiercely against yours so that the only sound is the harsh slap of skin against skin mingling with your eager breaths.

“Such a tight little cunt, even after you’ve already cum once.” His voice is even raspier with the force of his thrusts and you practically keen at the sound. “I wonder how many times I can make you lose it.”

You sob, hips rising desperately to meet his. “P-Please,” you cry, unsure what it is you’re asking for but it doesn’t matter because he props himself up to get a better angle, looking down at your writhing form.

“Such a desperate little baby.” He punctuates the pet name with a particularly harsh snap of his hips and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can already feel your second orgasm rising within you, all you need is a little push.

“You know,” Taehyung begins, concentrating his thrusts to a slow roll, “I’ve always been curious about one thing.”

Before you can ask what it is, you see his hand snake between you, gliding across your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, to settle at the base of your throat. Your eyes widen of their own accord, breath stuttering as you realize the intention. Taehyung’s eyes hold a silent question and you nod, albeit a bit desperately, prompting him to wrap his long fingers steadily around the lowest part of your neck.

“Fucking filthy,” he whispers in awe, gaze alternating between your face and the sight of his hand wrapped around your pretty neck. He thinks he could watch this forever. Squeezing experimentally, Taehyung watches with utter delight at how quickly you fall apart under his grip. Your hands scramble to claw at his arm, not to pull it away but to keep him locked in place.

“Poor baby just wants to be choked and fucked senseless, is that it?” You nod jerkily, pleasure fogging your mind and making you delirious. You couldn’t talk even if you tried but the way your hips buck up into his needily tell him all he needs to know.

“So honest,” he chuckles, increasing the pressure slightly. “Good girls get what they want.” Taehyung pulls his hips back, so far that only the tip remains inside you, before snapping back in full-force. The pace he sets is brutal and you can feel his hip brushing relentlessly against your clit.

“T-Tae,” you gasp, stomach tightening as a particularly well-timed thrust has you seeing stars. “C-Close.”

“Is baby girl gonna cum?” You nod frantically, eyes focusing and unfocusing on his face. “Come on, baby. Give me one more. I know you can do it. My desperate. Little. Slut.”

Taehyung tightens his grip even further and that’s the end for you. A scream lodges itself in your throat as the coil in your lower stomach snaps, sending you spiraling into the most powerful orgasm you’ve had in a while. Taehyung releases his hand from your neck abruptly, the rush of air prolonging your pleasure to the point you think you might pass out.

Above you, you hear Taehyung groan gutterly at the vice-like grip your walls have trapped him in. “Fuck, princess, I can feel you squeezing. You’re gonna make me cum.”

Still breathless, you fight against the fog clouding your brain. “Please, Tae. Cum inside me, please. I-I want it so bad.”

“Such a filthy little thing,” he stutters, breaths sounding labored in your ears as he gets closer to his own climax. “Gonna f-fill you up so good. Make this cunt mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp, tightening your muscles one last time around him. That seems to be the end for him because before you know it, Taehyung is moaning into your shoulder.

“All. Fucking. Mine,” he growls as he snaps his hips, once, twice, before stilling inside you.

It seems to last hours but Taehyung eventually collapses onto his forearms, careful not to crush you under his weight. You both take a minute to catch your breath, enjoying the feeling of closeness that follows. Eventually, he pulls back, carefully slipping out of you to tie off the condom and toss it in the wastebasket. You wince but relax immediately after, snuggling further into the soft down of his comforter.

Taehyung smiles adoringly as he makes his way back to the bed, heart flipping at how cute you look in his bed. Almost as if you belong there. He hesitates as he gets to the edge, fearing for a moment whether or not it was alright to join you. Those fears are put to rest as you blink sleepily up at him, arms tiredly reaching for him. Relieved, he snuggles in next to you and gathers you in his arms. It’s silent for a moment as you both enjoy being wrapped up in each other.

“Since when?” you finally break the silence, tracing mindless patterns across his chest.

Taehyung inhales sharply. He knows exactly what you mean. Still, he feigns ignorance. “What?”

You close your eyes for a moment, burying your face further into his chest. “Since when have you liked me?”

“Since when have you liked me?” he shoots back and you pinch the skin on his ribs. He yelps before you both dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“I asked you first,” you whine, risking a glance up at his face. Taehyung is already staring down at you fondly, warm gaze melting into your own.

“Since the very first moment,” he whispers softly. You almost laugh, except his face is deadly serious. It’s suddenly hard to swallow around the lump in your throat. You stare at him in wonder—the delicate brush of his eyelashes against his cheek, the soft sweep of his sweat-dampened hair over his forehead, the gentle curve of his lips as he smiles at you. You clear your throat, glancing away as a pleasant warmth settles over your cheeks.

“That’s not an answer.”

He laughs breathily in your ear and you fight a shiver. “Okay, okay. Well the first time I realized it was the day you had come back from your shift after you had switched managers.”

You balk. “Are you serious?” You remember that day. Management had decided to move your favorite supervisor over to the men’s department while you remained stuck in shoes. The new guy was awful—condescending, incompetent, and downright unpleasant. You had come home that day with three different bottles of wine and all the take out you could afford and practically forced Taehyung to drink with you and listen to your misery. The guy was eventually fired but the whole experience had left you with a bitter taste in your mouth.

Tae chuckles as he thinks back to that night. “Yes, I’m serious. You were about halfway through the second bottle and were practically screaming curses at the guy. It took you all of 30 minutes after dinner to fall asleep right there on the couch, somehow still complaining about that dickwad.” You snort, hand shooting up to cover your face in embarrassment. “As you talked, I realized…I could listen to you forever. And then you fell asleep, cuddling so cutely into my shoulder, and I knew I was a goner. Even though you snore.”

Your eyes, which had started watering at his heartfelt confession, widen before you regain your composure enough to hit his chest. “I do not snore.”

Taehyung winces playfully, knowing full-well that you don’t but enjoying teasing you all the same. “So, yeah. I’ve liked you for a while. And I had an inkling you felt the same.”

“Oh, yeah? What gave it away? The fact that I practically hopped on your dick?” you tease.

“Well it certainly didn’t hurt.” He winks at you and you have to stifle the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. “But it was little things. Like how you’d blush at a compliment or if I hugged you just a bit too long. I couldn’t be sure though. Not until tonight, I guess.”

“Well,” you shift upwards, his confession instilling a confidence in you that you hadn’t known you possessed, “in case I haven’t made it abundantly clear: I like you very, very much, Kim Taehyung.”

He’s silent for a single, nerve-wracking beat before the most brilliant smile lights up his face and for the second time that night, you find yourself breathless.

“And I like you very, very much, too, ___.”

Taehyung kisses you then, slow and sweet, and you’re left thinking that you never want to be anywhere else.

#bts #bts smut #bts taehyung #bts v #taehyung #taehyung smut #v #v smut #bts imagine #taehyung imagine #v imagine #bts v imagine #kth fic #bts fics #taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader fic #taehyung x reader imagine #my writing

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wienerbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

The Electrifying Mind Reader (2/2)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,556

Warnings: not really any major ones tbh

A/N: yay hope yall enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

“No, no, no, this is all wrong.”

Bucky closes the blinds that the young nurse opened for you and rips the socks from Sam’s hands. He approaches where you lay in the hospital bed, unconscious to give your body and heart a break while your system is flooded with IV fluids.

“You don’t know how to put her socks on right; she - she doesn’t like ‘em too tight on her feet. You put ‘em on and you gotta tug on the toes a bit so they fit looser, yeah?” Bucky instructs, not really caring if Sam is paying attention to this lesson of putting socks on your feet.

It’s been six days. Six days since your heart stopped. Six days since Bucky’s CPR probably saved your life, holding you over just until they reached the tower and were able to get you into the MedBay. Six days since they stabilized you and induced you into a coma in fear that your heart would stop again, and also to give you a break from the pain.

It’s also been six days since Bucky’s had a proper shower, too, which Sam is getting really tired of.

It took him three days to even change out of his uniform from the mission; he didn’t want to leave your side.

“Bucky -”

“And as for the blinds, she always likes the room dim. The rest of her may be bright, but she doesn’t like all the lights on and the windows open.” He explains, still holding your feet in his hands, not taking his eyes off of you.

It doesn’t feel like it’s been six days for Bucky. Feels more like six years. Or six seconds. He doesn’t like you like this. Laying in some bed, no color anywhere, tubes sticking out of your nose, eyes closed and not looking back at him.

“Bucky, man, you gotta shower,” Bucky finally looks up at his friend, “Go outside. Touch some grass. I don’t know, but you’re not doing her any good by just sitting here.”

Bucky opens his mouth to disagree, but Sam stops him, “She’s not going to wake up, at least not for now. She’s still induced. They’d need to stop that medication in order to wake her up, which they plan to this afternoon. And even then, it could take her another day or two to wake up naturally.”

Bucky slumps at his explanation.

“And when she does wake up, she’s not going to want to see you like this.”

His hair is greasy, having grown out a bit more over the past couple of months, the circles under his eyes make his face look more his real age, and he can actually smell himself. She wouldn’t want to see you like this.

“I will be back in ten minutes.” He decides, willing to leave your side for a bit in order to clean himself up; clean himself up for you.

Unfortunately for Sam, the nurse returns as soon as Bucky steps out, new syringe in hand.

“Uh, what’s that?” It would be as soon as Bucky leaves that they want to do something to you. They haven’t done anything to you except change your IV bags and now is when they want to change shit up?

“Dr. Cho wants to take her out of her coma. This,” She raises the syringe, “Will help with that. She should wake up either later tonight or tomorrow morning, she’ll be very groggy.”

“Uh, alright.” He replies, not really knowing what else to say, but suddenly regretting convincing Bucky to leave.

It’s fine, she won’t wake up in the next seven minutes while Bucky’s gone.

Except when he only has three more minutes to wait out before Bucky’s return, he hears a soft groan from you. He freezes and looks up at your face, your eyes still closed but eyebrows twisted a bit closer together.

He glances at the clock, panicking. Please, only three more minutes, please.

Eyes force themselves open despite the blinding light and sharp crust around the eyes. Sam watches as your hazy eyes glaze over the room before landing on him, his eyes open wide like he’s looking at a ghost. You move your move a bit but no noise comes out. He can recognize the way you bring your lips together and push out that you’re trying to say something that starts with a B.

“Bucky? You want Bucky?”

“Buuhh,” You breathe out, voice weak from lack of use.

“Uh,” He glances at the clock, one more minute, “He should be here soon, just relax,” He tries, but it seems you take after your boyfriend when it comes to hospital settings.

You reach your uninjured arm to the oxygen tubes in your nose, pulling them away from your face and off your ears, next reaching for the IV in your arm. Sam slaps a hand over yours when you try to tear the tape off. Why would you tell her to relax, you idiot, that’s like the worst possible thing you could’ve told her in this situation!

How did you wake up so fast? He knows you were experimented on years ago and that HYDRA injected you with something while you were captured a few days ago, but are you enhanced like that? Enough for medicine to go through your system that quickly? What the hell did they inject you with?

“Stop -” He starts, reaching for your hands to stop them from pulling at the tubes.

“Sam, what the hell are you doing?!” Bucky’s voice booms into the room.

Sam whips his head over his shoulder to see a freshly showered Bucky, hair still wet and dawned in new clothes, as well as a bundle of more colorful patterns he assumes are for you.

“You’re awake.” Bucky realizes, anger dropping form his face and he completely forgets about what looked like Sam trying to take out your IV.

“I leave for ten minutes and you wake up. You weren’t supposed to wake up until tomorrow and you wake up the first time I leave the room.” He approaches the bed, throat tight as he feels an unbelievable relief at seeing your open eyes.

Your face also softens, no longer frustrated and eager to leave. Your hand leaves from underneath Sam’s and reaches out to Bucky, his metal fingers softly getting a hold of yours, bringing them to his lips to plant a kiss on the top.

He leans in and kisses you on the mouth, too, despite Sam’s presence, despite the cracks and dryness in your lips, despite the fact that you haven’t had any water or toothpaste in your mouth in six days.

Water!

“Let me get you some water, sweetheart, hold on.” Bucky drops your clothes in the chair he’s been sleeping in for six days and walks over to the counter to pour you a small cup of water. Sam realizes that the both of you are very occupied with each other now and takes his opportunity to leave before Bucky remembers the scene he saw when he came in.

I’ll check in later, he thinks, before leaving quietly.

He holds the straw still for you with one hand and gently helps lift your head up with the other, helping you take small sips of water.

“‘M tired,” You whisper, still weak.

“Sleep, my love, you can rest all you want, as long as you promise to wake up.” He brushes a hand along your face, taking in your features, and happy to feel your skin while you’re awake and looking at him now, as opposed to lying in a coma.

“Stay,” You tell him, hand grabbing at his shirt to pull him closer to you, trying to communicate to him that you want him to lie down with you, that you want him close.

Luckily, he takes the hint.

He carefully slides into bed next to you on your good side, making sure nothing bumps your shoulder. It doesn’t take long for you to snuggle into his body and let exhaustion take over once more.

He even sleeps a bit, too. Having you in his arms, feeling your body move with your breathing, slow and steady, instead of the violent shakes he felt a few days ago.

Your heart stopped. He got it started again on the jet, just as they landed and the doctors were able to take it from there. He watched as they rushed you into surgery, needing to work on your heart, brain, shoulder, and any other injuries you may have. All he could do was wait. Couldn’t watch from the viewing room of the OR. Couldn’t ask anyone; they were all in there with you. You were in there for hours. He was sure you died. That you died hours before they came out but they were thinking of how to tell him.

He wasn’t exactly happy with the news that your heart had stopped a second time and that you were in a coma, but you were alive. You were alive.

He’s scared to ask what they did to you. How long you were in that room with them. If you even remember. He didn’t see who in the room with you and there were no cameras anywhere. He doesn’t even know where to start; there were over 500 people at that base.

A lot of things went through his mind while you were asleep. He just thought about you. Your belongings. What you normally eat for your meals. What you normally wear around the tower. How you work out. How you meditate. How you read. He read to you while you were under, but he’s not sure if you were even aware. He talked to you a lot, too. Some of it jokes, some anger that you would have the audacity to almost die. A lot of love. A lot of tears. A lot of hope that you wouldn’t die unless he’s able to put a ring on your finger first.

He hopes you weren’t aware of any of that, looking back.

He closes his eyes and allows himself to relax a bit, dreaming of that ring, a white picket fence, and you.

Your recovery is difficult. Your hands trembled for a few days after waking up, either after effects of electro-shock therapy or just the trauma of being captured by Hydra again.

You couldn’t remember the men that were there with you. You try, and you remember their hands on your skin, holding you down, the flesh and metal merging together in your memories but it all gets blurred. You begin to catch pieces of that day, and like an old movie with the film being burned, holes erupt and all that’s left is blackness.

You knew two of the men were your old handlers, so you can try to narrow those down. But the other soldier. The man with two arms made of metal. You remember him. You don’t know who he is, but you remember him. You feel sorry for the guy, even though he shot you. Who knows what they’ve done to him.

You’ve since left the MedBay and have tried to get back to your routine as quickly and normally as possible. Tried, at least.

You flinch as Bucky brushes past you in the kitchen, muttering an apology to him, not wanting him to think that you’re afraid of him.

One thing you’ve noticed as of late is that you’ve been particularly jumpy. Sensitive. And you hate it. You hate the flinching, the spike in anxiety, the nightmares. The confusion.

“I wanted to show you something.” Bucky tells you, urging you to have a seat while he puts together breakfast for the two of you. He’s been extra protective lately, but you understand why and let him do things for you.

You hum, taking a seat and stirring your coffee slowly. You know Bucky has noticed the depreciation in your energy levels. You’re not bouncing off the walls, you’re not teasing him and Sam, you’re not dressing up cute to watch a movie with him. No colorful nail polish, they removed it in surgery and you haven’t bothered to paint them again. And you know he wants to mention it. But he doesn’t, out of politeness, or maybe out of fear.

Is he scared of you? What did they inject you with?

Your thoughts of that syringe are forgotten when a folded piece of paper is placed in front of you. You unfold it to see your messy handwriting, names after name after name scrawled out with the first few crossed out.

“The list. You kept my list?”

“I did. I promised you I’d complete it didn’t I?”

“You didn’t…” You trailed off, not wanting to believe that Bucky finished your list in secret behind the Avengers’ back.

“I didn’t,” He reassures, “But I thought it might help jog your memory; maybe seeing the names will help you put it to the face of who was there with you.”

It’s a good idea. But it’s not what you want to do.

“Uhm,”

“You don’t have to do anything about it now, it was just a thought to help you.”

“Buck,”

“I also thought we could -”

“Bucky, stop.” You snap.

He looks up at you from the list on the table.

“I know I’m weak now, but,” You begin, he opens his mouth, face dropping, wanting to interject, but you don’t let him, “I need you to stop. I need you to treat me like normal. I know I’m weak now, I know I’m having nightmares again, I know I’m not going on missions for a long while now, I know that I still have no fucking idea what they injected me with and what it’s done to my body, but I need to pretend like I don’t know all of that right now. I want normal.” You explain.

His mouth opens and closes again before giving a small nod of his head. “Okay.” He agrees, taking the list from the table and folding it up again. He walks over to your desk where a lot of his stuff has started taking up space, slipping the piece of paper into a notebook.

“I don’t ever want to hear you call yourself weak again. You’re my girl and you're as tough as fucking nails, okay?” He tells you seriously after turning around.

You scoff sarcastically before returning your attention to your coffee while Bucky finishes in the kitchen.

As he walks back over to you, hands full of two plates towered high with pancakes, you turn to him, “Don’t forget the syrup, babe,” You tell him, raising your hand to gesture towards the fridge.

You feel a surge of power exit from your hand, shooting Bucky with a burst of energy, sending the plates flying out of his hands.

“Woah!” He yelps, certainly not expecting you to do that because you’ve never been able to.

The plates shatter on the ground, the pancakes slapping on the tile, and you freeze completely, hand stilling in the air, not knowing how you did that and scared to move another muscle.

Silence takes over the room and Bucky looks between the mess on the ground and your eyes that have now blown open wide.

“That’s… new.” Is all he can say.

What was in that syringe they injected you with?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes series #marvel #bucky barnes fan fiction #ooooooooo new power🔓 unlocked

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talesmaniac89 · 5 years ago

Text

A Day Off

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Your stubborn boyfriend never takes a day off, even when he’s feeling under the weather. Luckily Dean Winchester has you around to make sure he takes care of himself.

Triggers: Sick Dean, just a cold. Other than that it’s just fluff

Y/N = Your name

---

“Hey… (Y/N),” Dean’s voice was weaker than normal as it shook you out of the especially confusing paragraph about sirens you’d been reading on the couch. The slight shake in his voice alone was enough to make you drop the book like it’d burned you and turn fully in your seat to let worried eyes find your boyfriend entering the bunker library.

Well… Entered would be a bit of an exaggeration. It was more like he fell through the door and collapsed in a heap. The dramatic entrance easily sending you hurdling out of your seat in your rush to get to his side. Every nerve and muscle in your body on fire with protective concern as you ran across the bunker over to where he was lying, unmoving.

Nearly sliding over the floor in your panicked rush, you dropped to your floor next to your pale faced boyfriend just as his eyes fluttered back open, revealing watery green eyes. He looked so weak. Nothing like your normally strong hunter.

Worry rested as a heavy stone in your stomach as your hands hovered over his body, trying to find whatever injury or whatever else was hurting him. As if you’d somehow gained the powers to brush off his pain with just a touch of your fingers.

Every worst-case scenario and pained past moment of hurt rushed through your mind as you reached out to him just as he tried to push himself back up. Leaning in carefully you let your fingertips brush over his forehead, pushing damp strands of sandy blonde hair out of the way.

He was scorching hot.

“Dean… Shit. You’re as white as a sheet,” You said, hating the shake in your voice. If there was something seriously wrong then he needed you to be strong. You could get through anything together. But you needed to get a grip. He needed you to be his strong little soldier. To deal with whatever curse or injury or…

“I’m alright, it’s just cold in here…” Dean’s voice was weak and strained as he spoke up over your panicked thoughts. His unfocused eyes squinting as he tried to sharpen what was most likely a blurred version of you to the clearly weak and hurting hunter.

“Dean! You just collapsed!” You could hear the fear in your own voice. The nearly frantic high pitch breaking over the words and unintentionally increasing in volume with every syllable. Yet, you couldn’t control it. Not when you could feel the blistering heat that was rolling off him in waves as your arms wrapped around the back of the hunter that was trying to get back on his feet next to you. Something was really wrong.

Tightening your arms around him, you refused to give him the space he needed to get back up. Fearing a repeat of the earlier collapse against the bunker’s hard concrete floor. Instead you kept him seated, letting him lean against you as he didn’t even have enough energy to keep himself sitting upright.

“Don’t worry about me… I’m fine, it’s just a cold,” Dean tried to sound gruff, but in his current state the words came out as more of a weakened whimper instead. Letting the words sink in together with the unnatural amounts of heat that rolled off him, your fear was quickly replaced with angry worry.

Dean Winchester was the strongest man you knew. But sometimes that strength could translate into pure idiotic stubbornness.

He’d always work until he collapsed. Never letting it show that he was feeling under the weather. To Dean, any sign of weakness could be lethal.

That’s how he’d survived as a hunter for all these years, by building walls made up of steely determination and an unflinching outer strength. Even though he’d let you scale those walls and invited you into his heart, sometimes he seemed to forget he could just be himself with you. Not Dean Winchester; hunter of all things bad. Just Dean… Your loving boyfriend.

Forgetting that he could be weak or sick and let you take care of him. Though he’d still be the first to make a fuss about even a sniffle from you. And so, it was up to you to keep his stupidly stubborn ass on the straight and narrow.

Including getting him to rest when he was sick.

“I’ve faced ghosts with more colour in their face than you right now. If you’re sick you’re not going anywhere but straight back to bed,” You said with an annoyed huff. Strict words that were softened by your hand gently stroking back his hair so you could put your forehead against his in a weak attempt to measure his temperature.

“You’re burning up Dean,”

“I’ve taken on apocalypses with broken bones and bullet wounds,” Dean’s attempt at laughter came out as nothing more than a breathless groan as you struggled to pull the big man back up on his feet. Damn it, he could barely stand. This wasn’t just a bit of a cold, he was sick.

“This is nothing. I’ve just been run off my feet lately with all the cases is all,”

The words he’d probably meant to calm your angry worry did the exact opposite when paired with how the hunter was swaying in place, his cheeks flushed in feverish heat and green eyes watering and distant.

No, Dean wasn’t waging any war today. Even if you had to call each and every one of your countless enemies and reschedule whatever mayhem they’d been planning to throw your way to someday next week. You’d get him in bed and keep him there. Even if you had to handcuff him to it.

Of course, you bit your tongue before the threats could leave you. Knowing your stubborn hunter would just make an innuendo or a joke out of them. Hiding his weakness behind his humour like he always did. And you didn’t have the time or strength to roll your eyes. You needed to somehow lug the exhausted hunter through the bunker and back into your shared bedroom before he collapsed again.

“I don’t care what you’ve done before Winchester. You’re not doing anything with a fever as high as yours. Not on my watch,” You sighed instead, reaching out to steady him and place his arm around your shoulders so you could begin the long trip back to his room.

“But…”

“No buts! It hurts me to see you in pain, and I’m not having it. Not when I know you’ll get better with some rest,” You shot down whatever excuse the weakened hunter was trying to give you before the raspy words could even leave your him. Sure, you knew your own straight forward admission was a bit of a cheap shot. But it genuinely did hurt you, and all you wanted was to get him back to bed so you could take care of him.

“Alright… But just for a little while,” Dean’s mumbled whisper didn’t sound even the slightest bit convincing when paired with the sheen of sweat on his forehead or the tremble of a fever induced shiver in his voice. Yet, you let the issue lie. Focusing instead on getting your stumbling and unsteady boyfriend to his bed and under the covers.

“I’ll take care of you. Let's just get you to bed,” You kept one arm secure around his waist as you took careful, slow steps out into the chilly hallway. Though you yourself were overheating from the sheer amount of heat generated by the sick hunter next to you. Hell, his fever was probably hot enough to be used as a central heating system for the whole goddamn bunker.

How he could have let himself get this bad was beyond you. Or… Not really. No matter the situation, Dean never let himself rest. He never took a damned day off, no matter how big the circles under his eyes got, or how dark his eyes grew from the pain inflicted by the countless bastards you wanted to backhand for taking advantage of the man’s larger than life heart.

“Couch’s fine…” Dean slurred. His fevered mind not even fully registering that you were slowly but surely moving him down the hallway.

“No, you need a bed. Trust me, I might not be a doctor, but I’ve played one on TV. Or at least in Gabriel’s screwed up TV reality,” You shot back, teasing a weak smile out of your tired and sick boyfriend. Followed by a raspy chuckle that quickly morphed into a coughing fit.

---

“Dean… Baby,” You sighed, pulling at the blanket that was locked in place by his body weight on top of it.

As soon as you’d managed to get him down the hallway and through his door, the oh so stubborn love of your life had insisted he could walk himself. Only to fall face first onto the bed and decide that was close enough to what you wanted. Now he refused to move. Even as he was shivering above the warm duvet, still fully dressed.

“I’m fine,” The muffled reply teased a soft smile out of you that stayed hidden from the big baby stubbornly remaining collapsed where he was instead of getting comfortable under the blanket.

“No, you’re not. Sit up, come on,” You sighed, gently turning him around before grabbing his blisteringly hot hands to pull him into a seated position. First, you needed to get him changed. Flannel didn’t breathe well enough and he was sweating. A lot. A dry t-shirt, and some sweatpants would do. Though you knew it would be a battle as soon as the thought hit you.

Grabbing the change of clothes from his closet you hurried back to where he was swaying dangerously at the edge of the bed. His head lolling as he tried to find the strength to keep it up.

“I don’t have time for this (Y/N)… Research,” You only caught fragments of the words Dean was mumbling to himself, but as you returned with the clothes you shot them all down with a strict look and a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“No babe, you’re not doing anything today. Nothing except focusing on getting better,” You followed your words with soft fingers gently peeling off his flannel shirt as Dean sat still. His eyes closed and a furrow in his brow betraying how lightheaded and exhausted he was. Having to spend all his energy to even understand your words.

“Lift your arms,”

“…’m fine,” The weak hunter mumbled, though he complied with your order as arms rose slowly from their sides. Though you had to help him lift them fully to get his t-shirt off, and a new one back on him.

Sinking to your knees, you removed his shoes, and, eyeing his jeans, you sighed. There was no way you could get him out of those jeans and into sweatpants without him cooperating. And he could barely keep his body upright. Forgoing the sweatpants, you chose to instead just remove his belt.

That was as good as it’d get. Now you just had to get him under the blanket.

However, before you could tell him to lie down, or even push him gently down onto the mattress, Dean’s brow furrowed again. His arms shaking as he tried to push them against the mattress and jaw clenching in obvious strain.

“What is it? Are you in pain?” You hurried to stand back up, ready to call for backup, have Castiel heal him, get pain killers or… But before you could even fully move. Your stubborn hunter pushed himself back off the bed.

Or at least he attempted to push himself off it. Barely getting up before he flopped right back down. His breath strained and ragged from the obvious amount of effort that went into the small movement.

“… Up… Demons,” You couldn’t catch every word as the hunter slurred them through his fever haze. His head lolling from side to side as Dean kept his eyes down and shaky fingers curled into the blanket under him.

“No Dean Winchester. In this house we do NOT get out of bed when we’re sick, and we definitely don’t go demon hunting,” Your lecturing words were soft around the edges from obvious worry as you gently pushed your stubborn boyfriend down until he was stretched out on the bed. Quickly covering him in the blanket and tucking it in around him for good measure. He was shivering through his fever and you needed to keep him warm.

“It’s fine… I can work… Through it,”

“Y’know Dean… Normal people actually listen when people tell them to rest,” You sighed. Taking a careful seat at the edge of the bed, you let your fingers brush against his forehead and temples.

“Mmmh… Nice,” Dean’s mumbled, a small weak smile on his lips as the furrow in his brow finally disappeared, replaced with a much more relaxed expression. His cheek pushing weakly against your palm as if to make sure you didn’t remove it.

“… ‘s nice ‘n cold,” He hummed as you smiled down at your exhausted hunter.

“Let me take care of you Dean… You just rest,” Leaning down, you let your lips ghost over his damp forehead as your stubborn hunter gave up on the battle and relaxed into the mattress. His breathing quickly softening into a steady rhythm and hinting at a painless sleep.

---

“Are you ok?” You asked as soon as his eyes opened, looking up from where you’d been trying to quietly put down your carefully balanced tray. Packed with medicine, water, tea, grilled cheese sandwiches and soup. Ok, so maybe you’d been a bit frantic in the kitchen. Unsure what Dean would want when he woke back up. But at least you’d made sure to cover all the basics.

“Yeah…” Dean groaned, the lack of focus in green eyes and the way his voice cracked over the single word doing little to convince you. So instead you let your hand go to his cheek again as soon as you put down the tray. Watching as his eyes fluttered shut with a contented smile.

“Actually, no,” He hummed against your cool palm.

“You don’t need to be tough around me Dean, you know that right?” You let your fingers comb through his hair as you watched your soldier finally put down his weapons for a little while. Looking smaller and younger all curled up in the blankets with half-lidded green eyes trying to focus on you.

“I know… I can be m’self around you,” Your hunter mumbled through the mess of blankets, his eyes still closed as he nearly purred against your soft hand in his hair. The weak shaky smile was adorable and warm as Dean allowed himself some time to relax and heal.

“Are you hungry? I brought a little of everything… Drinks and food,” You said with a nod towards the tray after a minute of comfortable silence. Your hand stilling where it was playing with his matted sand blonde hair as Dean’s eyes stayed shut. Only opening a little with an annoyed grumble once you removed your fingers from his hair.

Yet, as his fevered mind finally caught your words his eyes widened in what nearly looked like surprise. Following your line of sight over to the tray full of drinks, soup, comfort food and medicine.

“Grilled cheese… Please,” Dean sounded hesitant, younger and nearly sad once he found his voice again. His eyes stayed on the tray of food as you helped him sit up and put a pillow behind his back.

“Don’t… Tell me this isn’t the first time someone’s made you food and taken care of you when you’re sick..?” You asked carefully. Worried your words might be tearing at hastily sutured wounds in the hunter’s heart.

The Winchester brothers hadn’t had what you’d call a normal childhood after all. And as you’d learned since joining up with them; part of the family business creed, scrawled on the back of a truck stop receipt, was to bury the hurt. Six feet under.

“Not since… Not since I was a kid,” Dean’s voice was barely a whisper as he kept his eyes on the food. The furrow in his brow back along with painfully happy memories of a lost childhood. Leaning in, you fluffed up his pillow as you softly let your lips linger on his forehead, erasing the pain that was etched there.

“Well, you have me now, and I’ll always take care of you,” You smiled, handing him the plate of grilled cheese sandwiches, as if the plate of food alone was enough proof to solidify your silent addition of forever.

---

“It’s tasty, but I have no appetite…” Dean only managed a few bites before he put the plate back down with a frown. Looking at the sandwich as if it’d betrayed him. The hunter was used to being a glutton for his comfort foods, so you knew the thought of not being able to finish one of his favourites was a big dampener on his mood.

“It’s fine Dean, as long as you’ve got some food in you then you can take your medicine,” You took the plate from him before the hunter put his stubbornness to the test once more and tried to force himself to finish the sandwich. Hell, once he felt better you’d make him all the comfort foods he wanted. For now, however, he’d have to make do with a glass of water and some antipyretic tablets to break him of that fever.

“Do you need anything else?” You added as you rubbed his arm, watching him grimace at the tablets, but decide to tough it out as his eyes met your worried ones. Careful to put the glass of water within his reach as you placed it back on his bedside table.

“Could you… Come in here? I think I’d feel better if I can hold you,” Dean’s big green eyes looked at you pleadingly as he lifted the blanket with a shaky, weak hand. Your normally tough as nails hunter as soft and sweet as cotton candy now that he’d finally allowed himself to drop his walls and his armour and be spoiled by you for a bit.

“Of course, Dean,” You smiled, carefully climbing fully onto the bed and into the arms of your boyfriend. The heat radiating off him easily melted away what little worry you’d held onto as you wrapped your arms around him and let him hold you as close as fever weakened arms could.

“I’ll always be here with you, so you just rest. I got this,” You murmured into his chest. Feeling lips that were busy placing gentle grateful kisses in your hair give a small smile as he squeezed you even closer.

Dean Winchester was the strongest, most stubborn man you knew. But he was also incredibly sweet.

Though that was only for you, and the four walls of your bedroom, to know.

---

Tags:

Dean Winchester Stories: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278

All Stories: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @hobby27 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce

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evemizutohi · 4 years ago

Text

Shadows Fall Behind

Chapter 2

Reader X Class 1-A (for now)

ps. sorry if I spell names wrong I google everything and I find multiple different spellings pls tell me which ones are wrong thankssss

At this point weeks have past since Shinso and I joined Class 1-A. Full days looked like nothing but class lectures and chaos. Ultimately I kept to myself as much as possible with the exception of Shinso and I’s conversations. He has always been super easy to talk to. I still haven’t become accustomed to everyone in this class. They’re much different compared to my friends from our former class.

I’ve talked a bit with Midoriya only because he has this thing where he mumbles to himself. Once I thought he was talking to me and I couldn’t help but have a one sided conversation with him. Which only ended in him apologizing profusely for doing absolutely nothing wrong. I learned that it was pretty normal for him. I also had a partner assignment with Todoroki. He was very nice but also had this ominous aura around him. I liked that.

“Are you still studying?” I looked up to see Shinso with tired eyes. He was wrapped up in comfy lounge clothes. His hair very erratic and sticking up in every direction. I nodded and then looked back down to my notebook and continued highlighting any important. Which at this point might’ve been my entire notebook. “I can’t seem to get this concept down.” I scratched my nose with my pen still reading.

I was about to ask Shinso about what I was going over when a crashing sound erupted beside us. We both looked over his shoulder and saw Kaminari face planted into the floor and his feet in the air across the room. Then an explosive blond following into the room. “That’s what you get for being an idiot!”

Shinso stifled a laugh and turned back to me. “What is wrong with that guy?” He shrugged his shoulders and sat down in the chair next to me. “Help me please?” I pointed to a question in my book while pouting my lips and giving him puppy dog eyes. God I hoped it would work. “No way I haven’t even started.” It did not.

“Oh come on.” My eyes wandered back down to my pages. A big sigh leaving my mouth. “You could ask Bakugou, he’s doing the best in class right now,” Shinso suggested with a tiny but noticeable smirk on his face. I snapped my head in his direction and gave him the most questionable look I could muster up. That would be the last thing I would ever do. We literally witnessed him toss a kid to the other side of the room. And yes maybe Kaminari had it coming, but he still threw the poor guy.

It was always obvious to me that Bakugou was rough around the edges. Even before I transferred classes. You could hear his ungodly yelling from across all halls. However, I also learned that he’s pretty okay when unprovoked. He minds his own as long as everyone does the same. Kirishima and Kaminari know that but chose to talk to him against his will anyway. I see the soft spots for them every now and then.

“Yeah right. I don’t want to be tossed next.” I groan and Shino laughs. He watches me close all of my books and cross my arms on the table shoving my face into them.

“As long as I steer clear from him my limbs will remain connected.”

the next day....

“Okay and Majikku you’ll be with Bakugou.”

The second those words were spoken by Aizawa I slapped my hand over my face.

Today was planned sparring and improving our attacks. We were getting paired up to warm up and eventually start putting fighting techniques into practice. Although after being partnered with a human grenade I realized I would most likely be working more on defense than offense.

I dropped into a squat hugging my knees to my chest. Cowering and thinking about all the ways I might be set on fire today. Until I heard feet approaching where I was squatting. “So are you gonna sit here and waste my time?” Slowly I lifted my head matching stares with intimidating red eyes. He huffed and walked past me moving to the other side of the training arena.

I stood up from where I crouched and looked for my purple haired adversary around the room. We met eyes and he was already laughing to himself. I subtly flipped him off and went off to follow Bakugou. He stood waiting for me impatiently. “Hurry up extra! I don’t have time to waste.” I fiddled with my fingers standing a couple feet away from him. As soon as my feet planted a sweat induced light beam was hurled at me. I gapsed and hit the floor in order to dodge it. I panicked as more of Bakugou’s quirk was released in seconds.

He groaned seeing as I would just dodge all of his attacks. He began running in my direction. I felt a tick in the palm of my hands.

I could help myself right now if I wanted to. I could use it and it would be fine. I could control it and make it better. I could use it for good. Good.

No.

I suppressed the feeling and dodged Bakugou’s foot from flying straight into my face. His fists thrown in record time trying to connect with any body part he could reach. I blocked an elbow he almost dug into my face and hit his stomach with an uppercut. Which in retrospect wasn’t exactly a smart idea.

The furry and fire in his eyes only grew. His breathing grew heavy and his chest was heaving with all he had. Oh shit.

He grabbed my shoulder and shot a blast from his hands into my abdomen. Sending me across the floor. I landed straight on my side and rolled over slightly. A stinging feeling in my side grew within the matter of seconds. “Majikku. Y/N. Are you alright?” Aizawa shouted from his spot near Mina.

I lifted my arm giving him a thumbs up, not moving from my position. “What a weak ass,” Bakugou sputtered. I forced myself to sit up ignoring the sting. Taking all I had to get to my feet. I walked towards the door. Not minding that I was leaving my partner behind. “Where the hell do you think you’re going dumb ass? We’re not done here.” Bakugou seethed.

I ignored him and kept walking out to the hall. “Hey I’m talking to you!”

Bakugou tugged at my shoulder causing me to hiss. He moved back watching me adjust my hand on my ribs. He still had a hard expression on his face. Nothing changing but his urgency to get me to fight him. I flicked my eyes to him and then back to the hall I was trying to get down. “The training room is this way you freakin extra. I told you we’re not done.”

“Well I am.” I sassed him continuing to walk down the hall. Deep and what I would call annoying growls emitting from the anger filled gremlin. He stomped over next to me keeping up with my slow pace. I could smell his burnt aroma and it was distracting. His shoulders were tense and toned from top to bottom. The sweat built up on his skin shining from the natural light reflected off the windows.

He cut me off and stood right in front of me. “Stop ignoring me dammit! You got somewhere better to be?”

“Yeah to recover girl because you knocked me on my ribs you ass.” He looked taken back for a second but quickly recovered continuing to follow me. He sneered and looked about ready to explode...again. “Maybe if you use the quirk that got you into this class you wouldn’t be bitching about a broken rib.”

“Ribs. Ribs you jack ass. Plural. And I can use my quirk whenever I want. It’s not up to you whether I do or not.” He rolled his eyes stopping in front of me again. “What a joke! I bet you didn’t even get close to the top at entrance exams right? That’s why you transferred in late.”

I scoffed pushing past him again trying to ignore his presence. “Just admit it you don’t belong in this class. Let alone maybe the hero course.” I stopped and turned to him ready to bash his head in. “Listen you idiot, I got in on recommendations okay! There just wasn’t enough room for me at the start.”

Bakugou stopped in his tracks and laughed. He chuckled in a way that made me feel vulnerable. “Oh I get it now. Another rich kid with a quirk and absolutely nothing to show for it. You’re pathetic. You’re going to burn in this class. You’ll never be a hero. Loser.” I let my head fall as I listened to Bakugou’s steps back to the class. One hand still on my side and the other clenched at my side. I continued walking to the infirmary.

“One crack of my quirk and it would be over. Asshole.”

#mha x reader #mha x you #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia series #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagines #Class 1-A #Class 1A #mha bakugou #my hero x reader #my hero academia one shot #mha series #bakugou series #evemizutohi

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tamyrawilliams · 4 years ago

Photo

after @sagetomashardy got pushed down the waterfall, tamyra finds him struggling in the relentless river. they are not having a good time

Time slowed down.

Tomas hit the water like dead weight (bad choice of words, yeah, but what the fuck else could you call it) and sank, slow, as water pummeled down atop him and shoved him deeper. It was all right. He was still tied up, hands bound, but any moment his air attunement would kick in and he could get out into calmer water, get himself free, drag himself up out of the fast-running river that went out to the sea.

--NT now any moment it would kick in NOW NOW NOW--

Except as his lungs started to strain, and then to burn, as Tomas wriggled as best he could towards flowing water, he realized: nothing was happening. His air was evaporating and nothing was replacing it. And his hands stayed tied, and the current picked up, and Tomas slammed into a rock that knocked any of his remaining breath from him as he started to rocket downstream.

Towards the open sea. If he managed to not get his skull cracked wide along the way, or drown for good.

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

Tamyra stumbled onto the river and it gave her some relief and hope. The moment when the mango died down was freaky, but this was just the water and maybe, just maybe if she followed its path, she could finally get the hell out of this hellhole. There was a reason she didn't go into the jungle and just like the last time, once again she was proven right again about why she had that rule.

Suddenly a big, struggling shadow in the water and her first instinct was that it had to be something else the jungle was throwing at her. After the bearlike creature, some freaky, horrible huge fish would leap out of the water and attack her. But a double take made her realize it was in fact a person.

Not just a person - Tomas. Struggling, almost as if he was drowning. But that couldn't be it, he could breathe underwater. It didn't matter, though. It didn't matter what happened, if he panicked or not, Tomas was in trouble and Tamyra wasn't just going to let him drown right in front of her. She was moving before she even finished the thought, jumping into the water and swimming as hard as he could to catch up with him.

She caught up with him what felt like too long, and she was immediately pulling him up, up, up so he could breathe, and gasped for air herself when they surface, Tamyra holding Tomas up and out from behind him. "Breathe, Tomas, breathe! I'm here, I'll help, just please hold on."

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

Layers of panic had wrapped around Tomas with each second ticking by where he couldn't free himself, couldn't breathe, couldn't do much more than push with his legs every now and again when they hit anything solid. His lungs were aching, burning, he couldn't tell up from down, and when something wrapped around him he struggled hard for just a moment before his strength gave out.

Tamyra wrenched them to the surface and Tomas whooped in great big gasps of breath, not hearing any words in her voice, just filled with animal need to get away and escape and survive. He kicked backwards, reaching forward with his bound hands towards the grasses growing near the bank of the river; his foot connected with Tam's shin, hard, but Tomas was past caring. All he could think about was getting out of the water, out, out, fucking out.

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

Tamyra hissed when Tomas' foot connected to her shin, but she was mostly focused on keeping Tomas above the surface and trying to move them out of the river. She could feel the water, she could feel it bursting inside of her, and yet instead of controlling the river, getting the water to move them towards safety, there were random burst of water coming up from the river like small geysers and then a huge shove came that pushed them towards a bigger rock and Tamyra moved them in the last moment so she would be the one colliding with the rock instead of Tomas.

Tamyra groaned in pain but still she reached out and grabbed the rock and held on, holding them like that for a few moments to collect her strength and then started moving Tomas towards the green, out of the river where hopefully they could be left the fuck alone for just a few moments.

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

The water tried to get them back. That was the only way Tomas could think about it at the moment; the water had been discontent with not having drowned him thirty years ago, and it wanted to finish the job, and he didn't want to let it. Not now. Not after having built this life with people he cared about and having been given his wife back again, no, the water couldn't have him.

"Tam," Tomas gasped, "don't let go of me--" not that she would, but he needed to say it, collecting his wits enough to help her move them towards the riverbank. All he could do was kick, scrabbling when his feet hit riverbed, and Tomas lurched forward and fell smack against the rushes and dirt and pebbles where the water shallowed. Out of the rushing flow of water...

...and then something grabbed his thigh, yanking. A vine, of course, wrapping and re-wrapping around him and dragging him backwards up from the bank. Tomas didn't even have the energy to call out for Tamyra -- who was probably being subjected to the same treatment, the jungle wasn't picky at this point -- and all he could do was wildly take in his surroundings as he was dragged along the ground, before the vine decided to hoist him into the air. It took a moment but Tomas caught sight of something promising, and he rolled his weight to one side as he was dragged, hooking his bound hands around a cluster of the freshwater mussels (inedible, highly allergy-inducing) that grew near some of the island's waterways. The shells were sharp and they cut through his skin and the bonds without prejudice, but they cut through, was the important part, and Tomas dug out a tangle of them and slashed at the vine around his leg. It retreated with an unsettling creaky cry, letting him tumble to a stop, and Tomas lay there for a while before getting up on his hands and knees, then his feet. "Tam?" he called, starting to stagger in her direction. "Tam? Tamyra!"

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

Tamyra reached after Tomas when the vines yanked him away, but she didn't have a chance to help because vines were wrapping around her and dragging her away as well-- and then she was back in the fucking river, with her nose filled with water that shot a searing pain up her nose. She was trying all her might to control the water and push herself out of the river or even slow the river down so she could just walk out and help Tomas get his hands untied (and maybe ask what happened there) and make sure he was breathing, but no matter what she did, it seemed like the water was not responding and she just felt more and more tired.

And then suddenly she was thurst out of the water through what was a fucking geyser and Tamyra let out a loud curse before she landed hard and painful on the ground and she groaned and rolled over to her back to get herself together enough at least to get to Tomas, make sure he was okay. To her surprise, the water that shot her out of the river was looming over her in an arc, completely frozen. "What the fuck?!" she muttered staring at it for a moment.

Then she heard Tomas calling her and she got snapped out of it - she could deal with the ice later, Tomas was more important. She pushed herself up enough to get to Tomas, wrapping her arms around him. "You're out of there, Tommy, we're both out." He was drowning. He was fucking drowning with his hands tied together, and it only really sunk in then for Tamyra just how bad this could have ended. "You're alright? Nevermind, that's a stupid question," she said as she pulled back, trying to survey him while still holding onto Tomas' arms, not wanting to let him go just yet. "What happened? Why were you tied up?"

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

"Tam," he managed to say, in response to all of Tamyra's words and her questions, and then that was about it, for a few moments. Tomas dug against her, pushing his face against his best friend hard to warm her strangely chilled skin, until she warmed and she smelled like herself, familiar and comforting. He remembered belatedly that he could use his hands now and wrapped his arms around her so tight he nearly sent them both toppling, but then withdrew a little, holding his hands in front of him. Sliced and bloody in places from the shells he'd just gotten hacked with, but those were fine, those were normal and incidental -- still bleeding profusely from the fingernail he'd lost. Half-clean sliced from Kessey's knife, half-ragged from where he'd ripped the rest off.

"I'm not doing so good," Tomas said, the admission coming out in an exhausted sob. "Libby and me, we got -- that guy Kessey, he thought we were causing this, or the jungle wanted us as a sacrifice or something, and he -- he--"

Tomas shook his head hard and barrelled back against Tam, wrecked enough to solely be seeking animal comfort at the moment. Nothing else. "She's not dead," he mumbled against Tam's skin as he breathed in, shuddering. "Libby. He tried to kill us but I know she's not dead, I'd feel it if she was but what if she's hurt, Tam, what if he really really hurt her, I need to find her, God I can't lose her again...."

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

Tomas was in shock, Tamyra could gather that much quite quickly, but she didn't know what to do with it. She didn't know what she could do to help, so she just stood there, rubbing his back, quietly telling him, "It's okay, Tommy, breathe, you're alright, you're okay," while she let him find himself, find his body all over again. She hugged him back when he was clinging to him and just kept telling him that he was alright.

When he finally pulled back and held his hands out to her, she sucked in a breath. She didn't notice the missing fingernails until now and she automatically reached for her hand, pulling them closer before she dropped them again and let her fingers hover, "Sorry, sorry, didn't mean to hurt you, did that-- what the fuck am I asking, of course that hurt. All of that must have fucking hurt like hell."

Tomas was telling her some of it now, some of what was happening, and then he was back against her again and Tamyra's arms wrapped around him again, holding him close, holding him up. He needed her and whatever he needed, even if it was just the sheer comfort of her being there, she was ready to give. "You're not going to lose him, Tomas. She's tough, tougher than most people. I saw her yell at the jungle today and the jungle scrambled back in fear. Even the jungle knows not to mess with her, Kessey will know soon enough, too. But we can go find her, make sure she's alright, that he can't hurt her." And then if there was anything left of Kessey, they could start with tearing his fingernails down. If Tamyra had a chance, she'd do it herself, too. "Is there anything I can do to help with your fingers? Any other scars? Anything that would take the pain away, make it at least somewhat better?"

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

"Yeah, breathe, yeah," Tomas murbled when Tam encouraged him to, still hanging on to her as if she'd melt into the ground if he let go. "That's another thing, I couldn't breathe. In the water. I can't ... my attunement's gone." He frowned, trying to just lift himself off the ground even slightly, and shook his head. The long cut along his jawline pulled at the motion and cracked open in places, starting to bleed down under his chin and along his neck again. "Nothing. It's gone. I don't know what happened. Maybe I'm just too -- too rattled, is it that, maybe? Tam. I don't."

His legs gave out and Tomas scrabbled against Tam for a bit as she grabbed onto him, helped ease him down to the grass so he didn't just topple over. "I'll be all right," Tomas reassured her, because what else was there to say? He'd be all right. He was always all right. There wasn't much else in the way of choices. He breathed in, finding his chest hurt with the motion, and took quick stock of himself. And of her, too, god her beautiful concerned face and the anger in those golden eyes, god, he could just--

Tomas took hold of Tam's face with his fingertips and kissed her, just a soft closed-mouthed mash of his lips against hers. "I'm so fucking glad you found me," he said, the words hardly more than a ragged gasp. "Tammy, we need to get out of here. I'm no good right now and I got nothing that I can even patch myself up with and I'll -- I'll be all right, but we need to get out and then I can come back proper and look for Libby. Or she's gotten out already and she's waiting for me. But we need to go."

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

Tamyra remembered just how full of joy Tomas was when he realized he would never have to worry about drowning again. The contrast in his voice as he told her he couldn't breathe in the water, he fear and the confusion only made Tamyra hate this place, this jungle, this entire island more. "I couldn't control water when we were in the river. It's the island, it has to be the island messing with us." Because it had to be the island. She suddenly lost the control she had on her water and Tomas couldn't use his attunement anymore? It could have only been the island's newest shit that it threw at them. "I'm not letting you drown, hmm? Attunement or not, island messing with us or not, we're getting out of this fucking jungle."

She held him up and helped him down onto the ground and then cradled him up into her arms and let him collect himself, let him have the time he needed. He would be alright, but he could fall apart as long as he needed to. That was what she was there for - she'd pick him up when he needed it, just like he'd pick her up when she needed it. Tam closed her eyes for a moment when Tomas gave her a kiss and then pressed her forehead against his, holding onto him. "Me, too. You scared the shit out of me, I hope you know that." He was still scaring her, but that didn't need to be voiced, he probably knew that himself.

"Alright, getting out of here first, then first aid - you can boss me around, tell me what to do and how to patch up those fingers, and no, you aren't doing them on yourself, and then we get her. But I'm telling you, she will get out herself, too. She will be waiting for you and probably doing the patching up herself." Tamyra wasn't sure of that, couldn't be sure of that, but she needed to keep him positive, optimistic. "We can follow the path of the river, that is probably our best bet - hopefully it'll lead to the beach. Can you stand? You can hold onto me and we can go together."

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

"The island messing with us, right, right. The island giveth and the island taketh away." Tomas glanced back at the riverside, though, where that high spurt of ice was slowly dripping back down into water. "What ... what was that about, then? You mean like you couldn't control the water like you don't have your attunement anymore, or you couldn't control it like you've gone nuclear with how much you can do with it?" The second one was preferable, in these circumstances, but at the same time Tomas knew what Tam might be capable of if she had no limitations holding her back. What that bold and fertile imagination might come up with.

Tomas considered trying to stand, but then thought maybe he'd take another couple of moments sitting, with Tam's forehead pressed to his own. "It's been a long time," he said, voice sunken quiet and shaky, then made it slightly more clear what he was talking about: "...it's been a long time since anybody wanted to hurt me on purpose. Like this." He drew back, looking down at his depleted hand, the lacerations on his wrists and fingers from being bound up, feeling the sharp pain along his face and the throbbing of the places were Kessey had hit him, fists and feet. "I maybe just need a minute. To deal with it. Sit here with me."

He didn't need to ask, of course, but Tomas wanted to. He listened to Tamyra reassure him, offer her help, and tell him that Libby was fine just fine, and Tomas reached down past the automatic, instinctive misery that came from being beaten. Under normal circumstances he would've rallied more quickly. This circumstance made the terror responses of his childhood bob up as fresh and raw as if his father was waiting for him at home.

But no, no, he was an adult and this wasn't that, and here was Tam, and Tomas took a deep breath. "We can stop up the bleeding with mud for now," he said, swallowing. "That'll have to do. Until we get out of here, and yeah, I can stand. I can walk. I'll be all right."

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

Tamyra followed Tomas' gaze at the ice by the river - in any other case, she would have taken the time to admire it, figure out how to do something like this with actual control, but it wasn't important now. "The second one. I could feel the power-- I can steel feel it. I can feel the water stronger than before, and if I could control it, I could do more than I've ever been able to, but somehow the water refused to do what I told it. Just bursts of random power, instead of anything helpful. I could never do ice - wasn't even interested in it, and yet that thing happened." Maybe if she froze the ice around them, getting out would have been easier, but they were out of there and that was the important bit.

His admission that it's been a long time made Tamyra swallow, her heart aching. She wanted to say so many things, curse Kessey out, but she couldn't help but remember their fight, when she wanted to make things better in all the wrong ways. She didn't want to do that all over again, so instead she reached over to his arm and squeezed it. She wanted to tell him that nobody was hurting him ever again, but even she wasn't idiot enough to make such a promise. Instead, she said, "A minute, ten, twenty, take as long as you need. We can just sit here together, yeah. Whatever you need." She was there, that was something she could help in, and then making sure to get the two of them out of here.

She went back to rubbing his back, hopefully that didn't actually hurt him, and nodded when he said the mud would help. "Yes, you'll be alright, but if you need some more time, we can wait. I'll go, get some mud for now, hmm?" She squeezed his arm and forced herself to stand up. She hated leaving Tomas, even just for those few steps that got her to the riverside. She quickly shoved her hand into the water - which started to freeze around her arm, but she pulled a big chunk of mud out and quickly went back to Tomas. "Here, how do I-- just apply it carefully, right?" she asked as she gently took his hand, turned it palm down started applying the mud as carefully as she possibly could.

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

"Emre can do ice," Tomas said, although that was of not much importance at the moment. Or a lot of importance. "He got his foot caught and -- he nearly drowned and --" He shook his head. He was losing the plot, over and over. "He's fine, just ... he's good at ice. Maybe you two could learn together. I've never seen anything like it except the ice when Matthew was--"

His breath hitched. "Has anybody died? In the jungle, now, that you know of? I don't think I could take it, Tam. Not right now." Tomas rocked against and away from her hand at his back, unable to really get up and move but not able to stay still, watching Tam like a hawk when she got up to fetch the mud. If a vine came and took her away, if the water rose up and swept her along with it, he wanted to have that image of her burned into his brain. Radiant, fearless, stunningly beautiful Tamyra Williams, star of the silver screen and his best friend in the whole wide world.

By the time she came back he'd managed to reorder his jangled nerves some, presented with a task, and Tomas nodded thankfully. "It's cold," he remarked as she started applying mud very very very gingerly to his destroyed fingertips. Kessey had only torn one nail off entirely, but his knife had slit Tomas' middle finger too, below that nail. "It feels good. You don't need to put too much, just enough to cover it and I can dry--"

He cut himself off with an annoyed tcch of his tongue. "Nix that. I can't do shit, I haven't got my air powers anymore." Tomas sighed, heavily. "Put some on my face too, I guess." He tipped his head, letting Tam slide her graceful fingers along the line of his jaw, the tightening around his eyes the only sign of pain he made. So easy, the old habits, when you needed them again. "Okay. I'm gonna need a hand up, but I think I'm ready to move."

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

It felt like Tamyra was missing some informations, but she got the gist of it and swallowed, not even sure what she could say - Emre was fine before she lost him and Lucas, and she's never actually seen Matthew's dead body (she felt like that was possibly a good thing), and she couldn't actually promise nobody died. She hasn't even seen some of the people she worried the most about, and even those she did see, who knew if they were still alright or not.

And still, she spoke, "No, nobody died, not to my knowledge. Aside from this bear-like monster creature, that thing is definitely dead. I killed it, with Emre and Lucas. But everyone else I ran into, they were alright before the jungle stepped in." Before the jungle stepped in, that was the most important bit. Who knew what kind of fucked up punishment the jungle and the island threw at any of them. Tamyra tried not thinking about it and focus on applying the mud onto his fingernails and then his face.

"How did you even-- did something happen? That you can't use it anymore?" she asked and then shook her head. "Never mind, it's the fucking jungle. Just like mine is acting up, yours is too. I'd suggest sucking the water out of the mud as another drying solution, but I don't feel confident enough in my control to mess with that and I wouldn't want to freeze your face or something along those lines." She wished she could help, she wished she could do it, but she remembered way too vividly the time she tried to heal him and this was not the time to take chances with something that was so out of control. "I haven't put too much on yourface, so hopefully it'll dry quickly. Just don't touch it too much."

Tamyra took his hand, helped Tomas up and kept hovering, kept helping him, keeping him steady, being there in case he needed any help. "Alright, we do need to move, but ifyou feel like you need something, please say something. Fuck the jungle, hmm? We go in our own pace and damn this pla--" but she couldn't finish the sentence, because suddenly vines were wrapping around her hands, her torso, her legs, but not just her, the vines were coming for Tomas too. "Tomas, hold onto me," Tamyra exclaimed, panick instantly rising inside her as she tried to reach for her friend.

— ⋆ ✯ ⋆ —

"I don't even know," Tomas said. "What happened to take away my attunement. Everything's been so fucked up it just -- yeah, exactly. It's the fucking jungle. Who even knows when it happened." His teeth clacked as he was wracked by a shiver, and he turned his head and spat blood. "God. I hate feeling temperatures again. Cold, hot, cold, hotter -- it sucks." Nobody was a better sounding board for pointless complaints than Tam, who always had some of her own.

Tomas held his breath as Tam helped him up, steadying him, the pain reappearing in all sorts of great places to wave an insistent hello until Tomas found his chest aching and realized he'd kept holding his breath. He'd never considered that he used his attunement all that much, but now he was starting to realize how much it had integrated into his day-to-day; he never had to worry about not getting enough oxygen, before. Now he had to breathe like a fucking chump. Tomas snorted a little to himself and indulged in weakness for a moment, leaning heavily against Tam.

"Okay," he said, "our own pace, fuck the jungle. Just as long as we get out, Tammy, I need to make sure she's okay." That everyone else was okay too, of course -- just because Tam had no news of deaths to report didn't mean there hadn't been any -- but the final image of Libby's pale, wide mouth open in a cry and Kessey's insane ranting before Tomas had gone over the waterfall was banging inside his brain. "Maybe we could--"

Could nothing, said the jungle. Because it shot into motion again, whipping its vines around Tam and yanking her away, Tomas stumbling forward to try and grip onto her fingertips to no avail as they wrapped around his hips too. "Tam! Don't --"

Whatever else Tomas had been hoping to say, whatever final plea or instruction or advice, receded into darkness as Tam disappeared, and the vines hauling him roughly along the ground made everything go grey, then white, then nothing.

#tomas #tomas 010 #chapter 4: the trespasser #blood tw #injury tw

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starfaring-princelotor · 5 years ago

Text

First Scent

Summary: Emperor Lotor makes a full recovery.

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Reader/Self-Insert OC story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing.

★ Warnings: N/A

Touch Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Taste Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Sight Series: Part One___Part Two___Part Three___Part Four___Part Five

Scent Series: Part One

“We are all on the same side. It doesn’t have to change our future together.”

Kylan would never dare consider doubting Lotor, but he was also no fool to leave loose ends hanging, so to speak. He worked along with their leader and his intentions - his goal - was always about keeping Alteans and the invaluable culture of said race alive. Against all odds, all naysayers and doubters, he kept to it. And he succeeded.

“You enslaved countless Alteans! How many innocent lives did you destroy?!”

Slaves? No. They were not slaves. They were not treated as such. If anything, they were flourishing and well on their way to becoming a better society than the one led by King Alfor. The progress was well on the way and the future looked bright. So, what happened? He needed to hear it, needed to have the physical evidence right in front of him.

“Surely, you can see the greatness we’ve already accomplished -”

The audio distorted then, signifying Sincline was most likely damaged from an unsuspecting attack.

“-llura, stop! You and I - zzt - Altean culture. We were meant - kkzzt -”

The black box was heavily damaged. Being exposed to the elements, especially quintessence, no doubt rendered it beyond repair. Except, Kylan knew how to save the proof and secure the device for future use. Plan B. Have a backup. Always have a back up.

“You’re more like Zarkon than I could have imagined.”

He closed his eyes slowly, releasing a solemn and heavy sigh of disappointment. He wasn’t going to say he knew everything, even if the hidden picture was revealed right in front of him. No, what he has here ultimately didn’t matter in terms of putting Lotor back on the throne.

“Who are you to question my tactics - “

But it was enough to clear his name. It was enough to show that Voltron started a whole new, deadly, and severely costly war by attacking the Emperor.

They had suggested putting him in a pod to stabilize his quintessence levels. Lotor’s soul may have returned, but that doesn’t mean his body was in a relatively safe state. Logically, it made sense to use the technology at hand to quicken the process, but you convinced them to keep him on a bed instead. Convinced was putting it lightly. You wouldn’t move on your decision, even if it meant using logic as a tool to get what was best for Lotor.

“I will siphon it from him, as I do with the other patients,” you explained, “It’s safer this way.”

It was your reasoning and also what you used to convince yourself, too. Your hand was loosely holding his as the steady flow of quintessence ebbed through the contact. When he had collapsed from exhaustion in your arms, you already knew that a confined space wouldn’t do well for his recovery. He needs to wake up naturally in a comforting environment, somewhere open, somewhere...safe. You promised him that at the very least.

But the longer you stayed with him, the more you came to the haunting realization at exactly how bad it was for the Galra Emperor. His skin was shriveled, no doubt either from over exposure or the action of his soul literally being sucked out of his body. Maybe even both. But the inside is what worried you the most. Starvation. His organs were scarily dehydrated. Lotor’s system was off for so long, you weren’t sure he could even eat anything nourishing.

And, oddly enough, there were times you couldn’t...see him as a patient. You saw him as something more, something beyond just Emperor. Allowing those buried thoughts to unfurl left your stomach stirring in uneasiness.

Lotor wasn’t talkative. Recovery was slow and, sometimes, he barely woke up long enough to sip water or open his mouth for ice chips. You weren’t even sure if he was coherent enough to answer the typical questions for patients who experienced such acute delirium. Do you know who you are? Where you are? What happened?

No. No, overflowing with too much would stunt his progress. Plus, you often found yourself hesitating to even speak with him. Maybe it was wrong of you to take advantage of his illness to push your own discomfort away. If he didn't ask, you don’t need to answer. But there were urgent questions lingering between you two and you know they will come around to rear its ugly head eventually. You’ll have to face them, whether you like it or not. You’ll have to hear what he has to say. What you’ll say. What you’ll feel.

But...

Lotor first. Your thumb ran over his knuckles softly, gaze longingly focused on your conjoined hands. Lotor first. That’s how it felt like when trapped in Sincline’s…

The Black Paladin has seen many haunting horrors in his life, but nothing will be more traumatic than seeing his own body as a corpse. No...his alternate self was alive, he just looked shriveled and sick and rotten. Sunken eye sockets, skin blemishes from what he knows as quintessence burn. The bite marks, oh, there were so many torn in his suit. Different sizes, different states of decay.

But he was safe and, more importantly, alive. Now, the matter of what state his mind will be in is something not even he can help with.

“I will pass the message on to the doctor once Emperor Lotor is in stable condition,” Kylan accepted the letter handed to him by the Black Paladin then carefully slid it into his coat pocket, “Thank you, again. You have done us a great honor. Saved us all, actually.”

Yet, as much as he would like to accept such gratefulness, he couldn't help but keep his lips set in a firm line. Saved them? Or condemned them? This war in his reality wasn’t theirs to deal with, but wouldn’t it be just as neglectful and dispassionate to allow the hoktril to be exposed to other realities? A double edged sword. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.

“I only hope that his return was not too late. Unfortunately, time does not appear to be on our side as of late.”

Kylan nodded in agreement, “You have your duties, we have ours. And yours must be urgent if you need to leave so soon.”

Nebulous orbs slowly closed, easily remembering the scribble he quickly jotted down for your eyes only. A message, a dire one, explaining why his leave of absence was absolutely necessary, but not for the reason anyone would assume. The Black Paladin had received a distress call, one he had not heard from in a very, very long time, and he had every intention to answer it. Sven’s voice rang in his ears clearly, as if he was standing right behind him. His hushed whispers panicked from hiding. He knows the tone well.

“I implore you to use the communication stone with utmost discretion. However, as soon as matters have settled here,” Paladin Lotor gave a wave, a vague gesture at all of this, “Let me know when your forces are ready to fight.”

He gave a noble, respectful bow. He shouldn’t have regrets, but perhaps he had one nagging the back of his head. Chewing on his tongue, he wonders if it was his cowardice that told him it was better to leave without telling you face to face.

If there was one thing Emperor Lotor despised about hospitals, it was the smell. The acute, sanitized scent of alcohol and sterilization never brought him comfort when awake. Even now, during every odd moment he would rouse from a deep comatose-like state, he found it absolutely much worse. The air was cold, chilling his nostrils, yet there was a warm blanket covering most of his body, all the way up to his shoulders. Warmth...something he cherishes now that he had the cold touch of death’s finger beckon his soul from his body.

It took days for him to realize he was alive, longer to know that the doctor had dutifully tended to his recovery. It wasn’t easy, regaining his senses and awareness. His thoughts were slow, as if relearning everything that which went dormant in his mind. Words, thoughts, actions, feelings. Feelings...like your hand gently clutched in his. Not at all unlike that memory of falling in a pit of darkness, tethered by the mere simple contact of entwined fingers.

And damn, to remember that utopia-esque simulation. Was it a simulation? It all felt too real. Too perfect, too...happy, one he thinks he will never really get to experience ever again. That love, that peaceful life, that completion. At the time, he didn't question it. Who would? But now, now as you read the holographic screen and scanned the details about his vitals in silence, he has so many to ask you.

Was it a hedonistic crime to still feel that inkling of love as he stared fondly at you?

Or maybe...that was just a lingering side-effect. A sort of after-high from being forced into an addictive drug-induced state of mind from a mere memory.

You knew he was awake. Lotor made it clear with his silent shifting, a gentle squeeze of his hand in yours, and a slight, almost quiet, groan of discontent when he felt his body ache in the worst possible ways. Part of him would've chuckled at the thought that maybe you were avoiding him, or rather, avoiding looking at him. Then another part would caution that it was wise of you to do so, for both yours and his sake.

Maybe, just like him, neither of you were ready to ask questions about the intimate life you shared. Maybe if he kept his mouth shut, both of you can pretend it didn’t happen. It was a trick. A ruse, a test. One conjured deep from within the heart’s desires and brought to the surface without warning or care.

The light above was dimmed in a cool blue hue, offering him a sense of peace and tranquility, but what really helped calm his nerves was the smell of a warm cup of hot chocolate wafting through the air. A promised treat, giving him the freedom to choose if he wanted to drink or simply hold it in his hands. And yet, he didn't reach for it.

Lotor reached for your hand. You gave it willingly, almost instinctively, and he was quite aware of how his heart beat just a little louder at the gesture. Lotor wasn’t sure he liked that or not. Well, he did, but he shouldn't. He really shouldn't because it was wrong to harbor such feelings for you considering the circumstances. But the heart wants. The heart yearns.

Lotor can control it. He swears he can.

So many unspoken words between you two, yet silence was clearly winning here. Then again, he can’t complain too much. Or at all, really. Your thumb slowly roving over his knuckles was nearly entrancing. The simple touch made his body compliant, whether because it was you or because the action itself was an unconscious act on its own, he would never find out.

You stopped suddenly then gave him a light squeeze, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ll be…” he paused, recalling how he felt when falling out of that cockpit, the panic, the pain, the cold, so, so cold, “fine.”

And while normally, those few words would be firm confirmation that you’ve done your job flawlessly well, you can’t help but let your heart seed doubt in your mind.

“And you, good doctor?”

Was he asking about your health or how you felt coming out of that life-like experience?

You twisted your wrist, closing the holographic screen before giving him your full attention, “Coming back to life is not what I expected, but neither was dying. It was different than-”

A twinge in your shoulder pulsed, reminding you of the last time you danced with death so romantically.

“I recovered faster than you. Kylan informed me i was gone for a mere few minutes. Clearly not long enough for all the heat to leave my body, but long enough to give him a fright.”

Lotor had a certain look behind his eyes, a certain longing for the truth. You turned away.

It’s been a week. The metaphorical wall was back up. But it wasn't just you that decided avoidance was the best course of action for now. He, too, opted to shove those unanswered questions in the back of his mind as far as he could. Lotor only wondered exactly how long he can let it fester. How long you could let it fester. Maybe the two of you were more alike than you want to admit.

When the deepest, most intimate, most raw secrets and desires surface, that exposed vulnerability suddenly becomes a dangerously choking weak point. Becomes something to fear. Becomes tangible and no longer yours to hide. But to acknowledge such a thing now? What? Were you two going to sit and talk about it? Have a coffee date and reminisce of those fake nights of feeling safe in each other’s arms?

No. It was much easier, much smarter, to stay focused on the goal. It was more important.

Was it awkward? Not at all. You dressed him in silence with careful fingers, wary that the lightest of touch could bruise his still-healing body, and he watched the concentration consume your task. Such a simple thing spoke volumes to the careful observer. Lotor was the patient. You were the doctor. Play the roles well and everything will be fine.

But just to be sure…

“We are not going to talk about this, are we?” he asked his one question, voice just a tad lower than normal, meant only for you to hear.

Slipping the new bracelet around his wrist, you waited a few moments until the indicator glowed green, “No. Not now.”

Lotor’s hands went slack at his side, a sign of obedient understanding. He offered his hand to you, not as a gesture of intimacy. It was for his health, of course. His quintessence levels were still a little high. He was sick, still out of sorts, and a full recovery only worked if kept to schedule.

For his health, you told yourself as the two of you walked out of the room hand in hand.

“Dear Esteemed Doctor,

By the time you receive this letter, I will no longer be in your reality. I have been called back with urgent news and must return post haste. Please accept my humblest apologies for the sudden leave. If I had the time, I would have stayed to offer you my aid at any cost. With your Emperor under your care, I have no doubt that the next step with our alliance will be needing as much resources and command as possible. Rallying the forces as soon as possible will be difficult, though if there is any advice I may impart with, it is this:

Galra are survivors, through and through.

When civil wars raged upon our brothers and sisters, history has repeatedly shown that it is not the toughest fighter who wins. Rather, it is the one who fights to protect the one at their side.

I look forward to seeing you once more in the near future. Please, stay safe.

Sincerely,

Lotor”

His handwriting was eloquent, not a curve or line extending awkwardly in the entire paragraph. At first glance, anyone would take in the script as romantic at face value, but the prose itself was completely opposite. He wasn’t here anymore and, as the Black Lion Paladin, of course the he had to tend to his duties. With Voltron, no doubt a shining beacon of hope for those suffering in his reality, he couldn't risk squandering his time.

You folded the letter then pocketed it in your coat, waiting for orders from Emperor Lotor, who was sitting at the helm of the ship and staring deeply off into space. Kylan had updated him about the current situation. Colonies displaced, warlords razing worlds for their own, Haggar’s search for him. That last one put him on edge. Yes, he’s well aware you worked for her, but he is also aware of your need for self-perseverance.

Or perhaps, it was for a completely different reason? If Sincline utilizes memories from souls, then he should’ve seen his mother’s memories mixed in yours, as well. Assuming, of course, you were brainwashed like his previous...

Lotor isn't such a naive fool to believe you would never lie in the face of certain death. He caught on faster than expected, knowing full well that sometimes telling people what they want to hear is for your own benefit, not theirs. Manipulation was often a tactic swept under the rug and reserved for those who were labeled as cowardice rats. Weak. Not strong enough. Not smart enough.

No. Not you, though. In the short time he’s known you, words were your choice of weapon in a fight. And apparently, his mother was desperate enough to fall for your schemes. One day, he’d compliment you on such a ruse. One day, he’ll tell you that she was actually the one who gave birth to him. How would you take it, he wonders? Anger at leaving the minor details out? Distrust? Betrayal?

“-of Marmora have gone underground. There has been news of Voltron recently en route to Earth months ago in response to Sendak’s battalion overthrowing the planet. Olkarion has been devastated by unknown forces and survivors have been scattered. Currently, no one has claimed the throne at the main headquarters and the next crowning ceremony will begin in but a few short weeks. Many separated factions are - “

Lotor had options. Many paths he could take to begin repairing the split and broken empire. He could free planets that were overtaken by warlords, spreading hope and securing rogue armies. No, that was what Voltron did and they failed to protect those they promised. Perhaps return to headquarters then declare his status as alive? He will certainly have more resources at his hand then. But no, Haggar and her spies would discreetly sabotage his throne.

Recruit the scattered Alteans? No, he doesn’t have the forces necessary to defend them all right now. They were safer with their captains, fortified with the necessary firepower and supplies. What of the Blades of Marmora? Should he spend valuable time searching for them? Their espionage skills will be most beneficial, especially with their network of spies spread out all over the universe. Then again, what about Voltron?

What about Voltron, indeed.

In truth, Voltron had more use as a gun than anything else. Perhaps there were still people faithful that it was their savior, their answer to all this despair and death in the galaxy. Yes, he could save them. That fight when he was piloting Sincline showed him where Voltron’s strength truly lies: as a false ray of hope. It was weak, in more ways than one.

However, the problem with saving Voltron would confuse many people. If he were to align with them again, that would leave many to doubt his role as a leader and the Emperor of the Galra Empire. He would lose support in the time of need and Voltron itself wasn't good enough to go around. He needed numbers and he would take a loyal military over a disillusioned vigilante any day.

A conundrum, indeed.

“Doctor, Kylan. A moment of your time, please.”

The Emperor ordered the rest of the crew around to give you three some much needed privacy. You stood at his left, Kylan at his right, both in silence. It was no surprise that just like Lotor, you were already calculating what the best course of action would be. Or at least, the best without risking potential deaths and destruction.

“Sir, rallying the Blades would greatly help connect our network with those still loyal to the throne. Although it may take some valuable time to search for their leader and the rest of their members,” Kylan took a deep breath before continuing, “We simply do not have the power alone to protect the Colony and the entirety of the universe, let alone the upcoming war with the other reality.”

Lotor glanced at you from the corner of his eye, awaiting your input. While Kylan’s plan was sound, he couldn't afford to make a hasty decision so soon.

“Sendak has taken over Earth, where Voltron currently resides. I don’t know the lore following the mech, whether the pilots need to be dead before the lions accept a new paladin, but leaving a nuclear cannon that can rip holes into other realities is not something we should leave to a power-hungry warlord. Find out if the paladins are alive. If they are, fight Sendak with both Voltron and Sincline on your side.”

“And if they are not?” the Emperor asked, partly curious about how you would react to your friends dying and partly curious as to why Earth, the one place you didn't want to return to, was even an option you’d consider.

“If not, then…” you trailed off, “If not, steal one of the lions. Voltron cannot be formed without all 5 pieces together. At the very least, it will prevent Sendak from using it to its full potential, regardless if he has located new paladins.”

“Stealing requires stealth. Something the Blades can provide,” Kylan interjected.

“A distraction works just as well. Drawing Sendak’s eyes off of Earth, even for a short time, will give us a small chance to enact our plan,” you countered, then placed a finger on your lips in thought, “If Sincline can attack his battalion, that’s more than enough attention to keep Sendak on a trail.”

Lotor found both plans sound, but there was a small problem, “Sendak will not take the bait. He fights with the ferocity of a thousand suns, but he views a proper battle for the throne as an honor. To taunt him to fight me, use my status as alive in order to claim rights over the empire is not how he views righteous combat.”

“You are the Emperor. If strength is not what determines loyalty, then perhaps it is better to show him with fealty and duty.”

You knew little to nothing about Galra culture, but that letter folded in our pocket did tell you one thing: Galra are not savages. Their history goes beyond blood and guts and gore. It’s a mystery you hope to read about one day, discover how wise veterans compare to the current warriors of the Empire. If what Lotor says is true, then maybe one of the strongest warlords in the galaxy will yield to the rightful emperor.

“Very well. Here is my thought: Kylan and I will send for a search party to locate the Blades of Marmora. They will need this ship and I will not risk the Alteans on board near Sendak’s sights. While we are carrying out our side of the plan, doctor, you will go to Earth and infiltrate the military base as a slave. Give us the details of where the lions are and generally pass on the intel about what is going on. Because you are human, I would imagine it would be quite a simple task for you to blend in,” Lotor bit the inside of his cheek, “Blend in carefully. You are going into the mouth of the beast, after all. From there, we go either two ways: take a lion or confront Sendak. I will leave that judgement up to you, doctor.”

“It’s risky. I don’t suppose you know how long it would take for you two to find the Blades?” you questioned, though already knowing the answer.

Kylan pinched the bridge of his nose, “No. We are not even sure if the Blades still exist. If that be the case, then we should have a back up plan.”

“Regardless of how this turns out, doctor, we will need updates about Voltron and Sendak. Can you handle this on your own?” came Lotor’s final question, but there was a hint of...concern visible in his tone.

Earth, the place you were born in. Earth, the place you left behind for good. Earth, the place soon to be used as a slavery planet for Sendak’s militaristic needs. You’re not heartless. You don’t like the idea of death and destruction on any planet. And that’s what Earth was to you, after spending so many years away, it was just another planet. The attachments you had all died with your father.

For what reason did you have to keep any ties with the land? This was for the safety of the universe and much more.

“Yes. yes, I can. Just don’t leave me behind if things take a turn for the worst.”

Again.

There was a knock at your door, drawing you to pause from packing what little belongings you had into a rucksack.

“Come in.”

And so he did, all of his tall glory stepping into your meager room. Bland, plain, empty and void of sentimentality. Lotor wonders faintly if you lived your entire life like this, with little color and even littler personality. It looked remarkably like the room back on the Castle of Lions. The door behind him closed slowly, but he had no intention of leaving soon anyways.

“Was there something important I missed?”

Lotor stayed silent, watching you and trying to think of how to exactly say his thoughts. He was a man of action when the time was right and right now? Part of him was choking at the very thought of you being alone on a planet ruled by Sendak. His heart screamed at him when he suggested the plan, calling him a fool, an idiot, a bastard that keeps risking those he loves -

No. No, it wasn't love. He had to remind himself that. It was NOT love.

If it wasn't, then why did you come here?

Wordlessly, he bent over to unclasp his boots and pile them neatly by your door. Next came his gloves, followed by his waist cape, and then the rest of his armor until he was standing before you in nothing but his skin-tight body suit. The entire time, you watched in silence with only the beating of your heart getting louder and faster in your chest.

The heart wants. The heart yearns.

“May I stay here tonight?” he asked, but surely he already knew you would say yes. Surely he did. Surely you would.

With a soundless nod, you slipped off your coat then hung it up, just for tonight. Not a doctor, not a soldier, not fighting, not running. Just...being. Existing. Like when trapped inside Sincline’s simulation, except this will be real. Was it okay to do that one more time?

Lotor slipped under the sheets with you, trapping you between the wall and his solid frame. He was never one to call himself a man who hesitates, but he did exactly that when he cautiously slid an arm over your waist to pull you closer. Closer still, until his chest was flushed with your back and his nose nuzzled the top of your head. This let him take in your scent, as if trying to burn it in his memories.

That’s when it clicked. As much as part of you wanted this, you needed it. You both did, after cheating death together. The way he held you tight. The way you leaned into him. He was … scared, just like you. There was no certainty you would not be killed, nor him surviving the trek to find the Blades. You two just found each other again and, while your partnership before wasn't deemed as together, as someone to fight alongside the other, the idea of being separated so soon started to leave an uneasy tension in the air.

There were other ways. More safer, less isolating. He could come with you. Or you can stay with him. Strength in numbers, right?

Oh, where did the confidence go?

Gentle fingertips touched over his knuckles, asking permission to hold, to thread together and seal an unspoken vow between you two. A promise that you can do this, that he will find the Blades, that everything so far is only the beginning and it will work out in the end. It was two simple words. Just two.

Trust me.

#lotor x reader #spacestories #ok the real chapter this time lol #not a rick roll i swear

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 5 years ago

Text

Intruder (It’s The Avengers)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

ONE SHOT

Warnings: mention of ghosts and intruders. No Ghosts were harmed in the making of this fic though I’m pretty sure the ones in my room were shocked at this piece of fic. I can feel them scrunching their nose at me right now.

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

One Shot: You are alone at home and hear a noise...

Almost forgot to mention the reason for this one-shot. (Belated) Happy birthday @nygmobblepot-trash

Word Count: I cannot believe myself and my desk. All this time its been holding stuff when it could have been helping me write stories like throwing cash money at respected strippers in the da club. Yup, my readers are those lovely strippers and their comments and love are their services for me. Does this make sense?

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

Somewhere in the dark, a pair of eyes watched you reading some book in the library, sitting under that one bulb illuminating the desk where you sat alone, lost in those yellow pages. Your one hand kept over the book while the other rested on your face, your little finger playing along your lips.

Click.

A sound came from some unknown source. You inhaled a lungful, never blinking away.

Click-click.

You blinked and looked up, turning to see outside the door of the library. Nothing but darkness said hello back. Not thinking much about it you went back to the book, taking your little finger under your teeth and leaning back in the chair on an angle.

Click.

Click-click.

This time your ears were sharp, your head tilting quickly in the direction of the sound. Straining your auditory nerves, you kept looking in the direction of the door for a good while.

Click-click.

That's it. I'm checking it out.

Old experiences and a lot of late-night crime and horror documentaries had taught you to be discreet when it came to weird noises of the night. But what you figured out yourself was that a book would not be the most suitable weapon against whatever was lurking out there. So, picking up Rhodey's trophy kept in the showcases of all the awards collected by the Avengers over time, you pushed your slippers over to the carpeted floor while slowly moving out of the warm space.

The clicking sound now echoed through the compound. So did the sound of ducks quacking in the pond outside; quite possibly at the stray cat that you'd brought home once and tried to hide from Tony. Ultimately you had to leave it outside when it scratched Vision for turning off his body heat because little Mew Mew didn't want to get up from his lap. In Vision’s defence, he’d lost a bet against Pietro and had been dared to that.

The fact that everyone else was out of town was not helping with every little tinker of noise you were hearing or your mind was making up.

Friday. I still have Friday. She'd take care of me if there was an intruder, right?

You wanted to ask her so bad. But the fear giving away your location in the dark was too much of a risk right now.

Maybe it's a mouse.

Click click click.

Yeah, it's just a mouse looking for some chee-

A cold chuckle came from the lounge along with a faint glow, freezing you in the open corridor that led to Bruce and Tony's lab. A crack of lightning lit up everything around you before the thunder rumbled, sending jolts to your already weak heart that saw a figure pass lounge- from the kitchenette towards the dorms- with a candle in its hands.

Had you not forcefully been made to exercise to strengthen your muscles you could've sworn you might have peed right there out of sheer fright.

There's someone out there. THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE FREAKING LOUNGE!!! HOLY FUCKING SHIT! OH MY GAAAHHHDD!! SHIT SHIT SHIT SH- Wait. If there was an intruder Friday would have warned me right? But she didn't say anything. *Gasp* Did they-did they kill Friday?!

Queue lightning and thunder!

Oh my G-no no no I'm sure Friday's alright. Oh God oh God oh God oh God! Okay okay okay breathe. Yes, breeeeeathe. Good. Good. Now, if it wasn't an intruder and Friday is okay does that mean it's a ghost?

Just when all those thoughts were running inside your head like a freight train, a figure in the shadows lingered behind you, getting closer by the second at an incredibly slow pace.

Oh FUCK WE HAVE A GHOST IN THE COMPOUND!

The figure in the dark behind you was nearly over your shoulder when you felt your hair rise in anticipation of the presence behind you. And like any bad horror movie, your reflex worked to turn you around with the trophy pointed outwards at...nothing.

N-no one's there. Okay, I'm clearly creeping myself out. What if...w-what if it's a friendly ghost. What if it's a Casper? I'm sure we can check that out, right? You asked your inner voice.

Do you want to die? 'Cause that's exactly how you die, came the reply.

Oh, come on! We can't possibly hide from a ghost anyways. And I'm sure Mr Stark has equipped the compound with something against ghosts. Hopefully.

Your inner voice chuckled.

What is he? A daddy of fourteen kids?

...dude.

Yeah, I know the answer to that question. My bad, she shrugged.

A door creaked somewhere in the dorms, bringing you back to reality.

Maybe we should check it out, your inner voice suggested, making you question its sanity.

Aren't you supposed to protect me against danger?

Ay, she sharply pointed at you, I'm also supposed to satiate your curiosity. So, this time the cat might just, I don't know, die.

Wow, you are a nasty one, you implied at your inner voice.

It's ookay, she cooed, you can call me a whiney whore. We both know who is the only one working whenever we see someone that bedazzles you.

Snorting at her, you made your way towards the lounge.

Friday isn't even lighting up the corridors.

The distant roar of thunder was unsettling and the patter of raindrops over the glass part of the roofs and walls did not help when you strained your ears for the slightest of discord.

From the edge of the doorway, the kitchenette seemed empty under that faint blue hue of lights under the slabs that lit up for the nightcrawlers looking for water in the wee hours of the night or early mornings. Many times a couple of them have scared each other for looking like ghosts under that dull blue glow.

The sofas were vacant as well, painted in colours being thrown in their direction from the big screen that you very well remember turning off the moment Steve had dragged a very reluctant Scott and Bucky out and not letting them watch the last fifteen minutes of The Witcher finale.

Maybe I didn't turn it off.

Maybe the ghost likes Geralt of Rivia, your inner voice called out. Or Yennefer, if they're adventurous.

Thump!

You jumped where you stood, the grip on that trophy tight. The noise had come from the dorms followed by a low grunt.

Casper doesn't grunt like an a-an angry demon.

The sweat collecting on your back was now making a trail down your spine, adding a chill when the cold wind brushed itself against you, coming from a door left unlocked or a window left open.

You know what, you breathed in, fuck this. If this is how I die, I'll at least be haunting my own family.

You started walking silently in the lounge, turning to walk towards the dorms where light filtered out through a partially opened door.

What if it's not a ghost, your inner voice tilted her metaphorical head in innocence, what if it's an intruder. A man at that.

You stopped five feet short of that door, everything going blank at the worst words your insides could've have spoken.

I...should hide then. Right?

You were about to turn around when you heard muffled footsteps come from the end of the corridor and the doorknob to Scott's door suddenly twist to be opened with a ghastly creak.

Cursing in a muted rhythm, you dashed inside the very room you were trying to avoid- which was your own.

Two huge strides and you were skidding on the other side of the bed, clearly missing the candles kept on a table right in the centre of your room. Wait what, your adrenaline-induced brain shot itself out to bring back the frames you missed.

Before the ten thousand four hundred and seventy-one theories could take a better form inside your head, the door to your room let out a groan, stopping your heart.

You laid yourself on your stomach to be as much out of the view of the intruder as you could.

The door clicked close. Footsteps walked away from it towards the centre. A sigh followed.

It is an intruder.

Your veins wanted to freeze over. Your heart was already shouting 'NOPE' and your inside wanted to come out.

A ruffle made you slide a little to peek from the corner of the bedside. A figure stood with its back to you in a black trenchcoat, unbuttoning the fabric tortured by the rain.

He's distracted, your inner voice shouted from your shoulder, now's our chance.

On your knees, you stepped out, positioning yourself low right behind him.

Gloved hands brought the cap of the trenchcoat down before going for the shoulder shrug to remove it.

Now!

Raising your weapon of choice over your head, you aimed for the loose strands of raven hair that suddenly were turning away to bring forth green eyes watching you in horror as cold pale hands blocked your attack- but not your rage-filled shriek- and forced you halfway over the bed.

"What in the hell are you doing?"

Loki's hands still held you down, his wet strands gracing your fear-burned cheeks with water droplets.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! You are supposed to be out on a mission with the rest right now?!"

Your voice shook but the anger you were feeling could be seen in your eyes by the God.

"Leave that," Loki commanded, pointing to the trophy still in your hands.

"No!" you spat back. You couldn't. The shock had frozen your hold.

"I said leave it."

"No!!"

"Were you really going to use it on me?"

"Of course I was going to use it on you!" you scoffed and raised the fiery embers just a smidge in your tone. "I was going for the spot and wanted to make sure you were shivering on your knees when I was done."

"Oh my God," a tired voice came from outside your door, making you both dilute the confusion and fire to look in that direction.

"I go out for five minutes to find ribbons and flowers and this is what I get back to. Give me a fucking break!"

You furrowed your brows at the door.

"Is...is that-"

"Yeah," Loki answered, never taking his eyes off the door, which clicked open with an annoyed Clint entering the space.

"Why do you guys have to talk like that during normal stuff," he mumbled, closing the door, "do you know how many times you've given me a heart atta-"

He stopped short. His eyes absorbing you lying halfway on the bed with Loki over you, his hands wrapped around yours, keeping your arms over your head while his legs locked yours in place. What was worse for the man was you looking at him with suspicion.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!"

"She tried to blow me."

Clint's eyes went three times wider, his jaw on the verge of falling.

"You were supposed to be out! I thought you were an intruder, you idiot!!"

Clint's hand came up as a sign to apply the breaks at this entire conversation.

"You thought he was an intr-oh ohh OH!!! Okay." He finally breathed, trying to feel his heart by placing his hand on his chest. "It's okay. It's okay."

"Now, am I an intruder?" He asked you, his eyes going soft, his hold loose.

"...no," you replied softly, letting go of the hold on the trophy.

Placing his knee on the edge of the bed, he pushed himself up, bringing you with him by your hand.

"Why didn't you guys tell me you were here? I nearly shat my pants!"

Loki and Clint exchanged a look, clearly hurting you for not knowing what was going on.

Clint sighed, lowering his head.

"Well, you weren't supposed to know till the next-" Loki looked down at the watch on his wrist- "twenty minutes. We were supposed to take you somewhere."

"Where? And why?"

Loki stepped aside to show you a small mountain of gift-wrapped boxes kept on the table in the middle with a balloon tied to the one at the top- the floating green thing spelling out a very obvious greeting.

Loki smiled at the unadulterated shock rushing over your face as your eyes grew wide and a muted gasp left your parted lips.

"Happy birthday."

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shutupandshipit · 4 years ago

Text

Little Life - Ch.7

Summary: A baby could ruin his career before it had even started. If anyone found out, he would be kicked out of the Hero Course at the very least and UA at the very worst. Even then, how was he supposed to care for a baby once it arrived? He was a fucking seventeen-year-old boy, not a twenty-nine-year-old omega with their shit at least somewhat together.

…..

Or where Katsuki get pregnant, but is determined to make it to graduation. No matter what it takes.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T (just for language mostly)

Chapter: 7/16

Previous <- Chapter 6

Chapter 8 -> Next

Master Post

Chapter 7: 5 Months

Katsuki groaned salaciously, melting into his nest with the roll and push of Deku's hot, hot, hot hands against his skin. "Oh yeah, right there, you perfect, prefect alpha. Oh my god~"

Above him, Izuku laughed warmly, bending to nuzzle into the back of Katsuki's neck. "You really weren't kidding. You're so tense. I don't know how you were even moving. You must have been in a lot of pain."

"Do you think I'd have be bitching if I were kidding?" Katsuki asked, but his voice lacked the usual bite, drunk on bliss. He purred loudly, and his back bowed up, chasing the feel of Izuku's hands.

"You're so responsive today. It's kind of nice." Izuku moved down his body, kneading away every knot and tense muscle. His hands and lips spent an exorbitant amount of time on his ass, but Katsuki couldn't find it in him to protest.

Instead of starting something like Katsuki assumed he would, he continued down his thighs and calves, spending time gently rubbing his feet and flexing every toe before coaxing him into his back and working his way back up. He paused at his hands until Katsuki nearly drifted off, pressing his thumbs into calloused flesh and nuzzling at the cups of his palms. His attention was nearly reverential.

It was only when he was straddling Katsuki's hips again, working his arms and chest, that he spoke. His voice dragged Katsuki out of a literal endorphin and pheromone induced haze, gentle and curious. "I didn't really notice before, but your nipples have changed color." He idly ran the soft pads of his thumbs over Katsuki's nipples. They immediately hardened, and Katsuki shivered involuntarily. "Yeah, they're like a brownish-red instead of their usual soft greyish-pink." He repeated the motion, and Katsuki's body responded in kind.

He wanted to snap Izuku's fingers off for the almost clinical way he was inspecting him, but Katsuki's omega had other ideas.

Izuku's expression was alight with fascination. "Does that feel good, Kacchan? Your nipples have never been very sensitive, but they're really sensitive now. I wonder why."

'I'm pregnant, you absolute lovable dolt,' Katsuki thought, 'Figure it out already!'

Instead of saying that, he bucked his hips to flip Izuku onto his back, following to slot between his spread knees. He pressed their hips flush. "Less talking, more kissing," he demanded, and Izuku surged up to meet his lips enthusiastically. Katsuki had never once imagined how good kissing felt before, but since he'd had Izuku's lips for his own, he could never quite get enough.

Afterwards, when they were both properly exhausted and Izuku was lovingly running his fingers through his hair, he whispered, "I really love that you're my mate, Kacchan, and I'm happy that we can be together in the open now. I'm the luckiest alpha in the world."

The enormity of his secret loomed over him again as it so often did these days, souring his mood. He didn't let the mood take hold, and turned his nose into Izuku's neck in response. Words were still hard. He'd always had to show his emotions through action.

As the emotion receded back into its sealed box, he couldn't help but think, 'You might not feel that way after you find out what I've been hiding.' He shoved that thought into his chest of secrets as well, locking everything away to hold close.

.....

Fear reared its head when Aizawa called him into his office after class one day. He had to consciously repress the anxiety in his scent as he gingerly sat on the couch that took up too much space in the tiny room that was connected to the rest of his rooms. He felt enclosed, captured, like the walls were bearing down over him and would at any moment clamp down on top of him.

The anxiety only built when Aizawa didn't say anything, only continued to sip at whatever was in his mug. Katsuki hoped it was vodka to make him less perceptive, but he knew he wasn't that lucky. He just hoped he was lucky enough to make it through this meeting with secrets and faculties fully intact.

"How are you doing in classes and with training?"

Katsuki startled, narrowing his eyes at the unexpected question.

Aizawa sighed tiredly and leaned back in his seat, crossing an ankle over his knee. "Calm down, Bakugou, you're not in trouble. This conversation would have started very differently if you were."

As Katsuki unfortunately knew first hand. "I am calm, sir."

Leveling an unimpressed look at him, Aizawa said, "I can smell your anxiety from here as much as you're trying to hide it, trouble kid. Like I said, you're not in trouble."

That really didn't make him feel any better, but he tried to slow the tripping rhythm of his heart. "You know how I'm doing. You're my teacher."

"Analytically, yes. On paper, I can see how you're doing; how much progress your making, what shortcomings you're working through, your grades. Paper can't tell me how you're emotionally holding up. You and your classmates haven't had an easy two years here, and it's my job to make sure you graduate at your full potential, or at least as close to it as I can get you." Aizawa took another sip before setting the mug down and crossing his arms. "I've been seeing some strange behavior from you since the start of the year. A de-evolution of your devotional training schedule and dietary habits. The exhaustion I've observed from you during training and class would be normal for everyone else with how hard you push, but not for you specifically. And as barely sociable as you were before, you've almost completely isolated yourself from everyone except for Midoriya and Kirishima it seems. While I don't think this is the case, I am obligated as your teacher and mentor to make sure you are still in good mental health.

"So, I'm going to ask you a question that will make you extremely uncomfortable. Are you harboring any suicidal ideas and/or have you ever or considered intentionally harming yourself?"

Katsuki's brain completely shut down for the duration of an entire minute as he tried to internalize the literal insanity of that question.

Finally, he sputtered, "N-n-no! What the fuck?"

"Everything I just talked about can be symptoms of depression and suicidal thoughts. You wouldn't be the first student I've intercepted before doing something stupid. You wouldn't be the first student to feel like that if you do. You can see how I'd be concerned about you, especially in an individual like yourself whose habits have not changed in two years."

"I'm not suicidal!" Katsuki shouted indignantly.

"Then do you still want to be a hero?"

"What the fuck kind of questions are these? Of course I still want to be a hero! I'm not going to let that damn nerd be Number one! Who do you think I am?"

Aizawa sighed grudgingly. "Someone with a lot of drive, but also a teenager under a lot of stress. You're scent has changed, did you notice?"

"So?"

Aizawa stared back silently.

"I am not suicidal!" Katsuki reiterated. How selfish would he be to be considering suicide with a helpless life growing inside him that hadn't gotten a say in the matter?

"Then what? Scents don't just change. Is it the stress? Depression? Anxiety? Something else I'm not aware of?"

He was just not going to let up, and Katsuki swallowed as heat flooded his cheeks. "I- Izu- D-Deku and I are... mated. At the beginning of the year." He wanted to combust and crawl his way down to hell.

"Ah." Aizawa leaned his head back on the edge of his chair, closing his eyes.

"Ah?!"

"Yes, well, the sexual education system is extraordinarily lacking in terms of how a mating bond changes you, and that explains it. It also gives me more insight into your personal relationships that I am, frankly, uncomfortable with." He raised his head again, grimacing as he did. "Well, now I'm obligated to have a different discussion that I was not prepared for. I'm going to take the benefit of the doubt and assume you're being careful. Despite the low probability, you know what will happen to your career if you get pregnant while at school?"

Katsuki's face was hot for several different reasons now, and he worked desperately to reel in his scent. "I'm not stupid," he grit out even though he definitely absolutely was. He was possibly the stupidest person on the face of the planet.

But his teacher didn't have to know that.

"Good. I advise you stop by the nurse's office to get on a course of birth control. Use protection if you decide to get physical. You can go now."

Katsuki was out of his seat like someone had set him on fire, and all but sprinted from the room and out to the grass behind the dorms. He inhaled the cooling air until he'd calmed down enough to stop pulling at his hair.

Sitting on the steps, he stared up at the tree tops where the sun was quickly burning the sky away. There was a flutter, a turn in his stomach, and he stared down at his own body in wonder.

He knew that at some point he'd be able to feel the baby moving, but he hadn't expected it. Even less he'd been expecting the rush of love and excitement that flushed away the vestiges of his discussion with Aizawa.

He placed a tentative hand over his stomach, and there was the flutter again, as if they were responding to his touch. The tears came in a torrent, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "God-fucking-dammit," he whispered miserably.

"Bakugou?"

"Oh, fucking kill me now," he growled before peaking over at Izuku's best friend. Why couldn't he just have one moment where someone didn't catch him crying? "What do your want, Round Face?"

She smiled gently before tilting her head back towards the dorms. "Let's talk. I have something I want to talk to you about."

"Jesus," he bit out, but more out of obligation to his mate than actual want to talk to the only other omega in their class, he dried his face and followed her inside.

.....

Katsuki was not expecting an honest to god 'shovel talk' when he followed the small brunette into her room. He really wasn't expecting it when she set a cup of peppermint tea in front of him and curled her legs beneath her on her bed, a steaming cup in her own hands. It was uncomfortably familiar to how Aizawa had started everything, and the fluttering in his stomach became nausea rather than his baby moving.

"What do you want, Round Face? I'm not really in the mood for a chat," he muttered gloomily, staring down at the cup. He was intensely aware that she'd seen him crying, and he hated the thought. Only Izuku, Kirishima and All Might had ever seen him cry save for the singular time his parents had when he'd presented. He was severely off balance from the thought.

Ochako pursed her lips for a long moment before saying, "I'm going to put this very simply and bluntly, Bakugou. If you ever hurt Deku, I will kill you and make it look like an accident. I'll rip out your throat and bury you so deep that by the time you're found again, the term will have gone from 'grave robbing' to 'archaeology', and mark my words, you will not have a grave. You'll drift from memory as the 'hero that never was'. Do you understand?" Her voice was calm, almost cordial, but the look in her eyes... She'd definitely learned that from Izuku.

Katsuki laughed without humor, bracing a hand on his forehead as heat pressed in at his eyes again. "Why do you assume I'm going to hurt him?"

"Well, you have a notoriously bad track record for being nice to him. You've hurt him more than you will ever know, and he's working really hard to get over everything you put him through. Honestly, I think this whole thing is just a disgusting form of Stolkholm Syndrome. I'm not going to let you hurt him like that again."

Another hollow laugh. "You don't have to tell me. I know well enough. I don't need your meddling, nosy ass to tell me. But we're mates. It's different now."

"Is it?" The tone in her voice had changed, becoming hard and harsh. Flat like he'd never heard her voice go before. "Then why haven't you told Deku that you're pregnant?"

Katsuki's head snapped up, and the tears escaped before he could stop them. 'No. No. Nonononononononono! Fuck!' And underneath the shock was anger.

Ochako huffed, setting her cup down on her beside table. "Don't look so surprised. I'm not an idiot. One plus one equals two, Bakugou. One being the frankly weird shit you've been doing and the other being stuff from Deku. Before you get mad, it was just him honestly gushing about your relationship."

Actually, the anger had been thinking Kirishima had outed him for reasons he couldn't father. It was more than a relief to know that his best friend still knew how to keep his mouth shut.

"I'm not stupid, and neither is anyone else, but as a fellow omega and a woman, I know my fair share about pregnancy because I made the effort to learn about my body. That, and well, a stint as a kid where pregnancy fascinated me. My point still stands. If I figured it out, there may be more people suspecting..." She trailed off, eyes tracking over his face. "Then again, probably not since no one else is an omega. They probably think you're acting weird because of the 'new' mate bond."

Katsuki didn't answer, and reached for the cup as he felt the burn of bile at the back of his throat.

Ochako sighed, and the hard expression she sported dropped into her more usual soft expression. She grabbed her own cup. They drank in silence until Katsuki couldn't take it anymore.

Slowly, he bent until his forehead pressed to his knees and choked out, "You can't tell him. Please."

"Don't hurt yourself there, Bakugou," she said, voice light.

He snapped back up, anger boiling in his stomach. "Don't take this so lightly, Round Face! I'm being-"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Serious, yes, I am taking this seriously. I'm an omega, Bakugou, and a woman, like I said before. I know what this means for the both of you if the wrong person finds out. I'm not stupid, and I'm not heartless. I want to see all of us become heroes." She smiled softly before her smile fell away, becoming serious again. "But you've been reckless. You need to be more careful with your body."

"I'm being as careful as I can, but I can't back down too much or I'll get caught."

She sighed. "Fair enough." Pressing her fingers together, she pursed her lips. "You're going to have to tell him eventually, especially before the birth. He literally has to be there. You know the success rate otherwise."

"Yeah, I've done my fucking research, Ochako. I'm not a goddamn imbecile," he growled.

"Honestly, you could have fooled me."

Katsuki snarled in reply.

"But for the sake of my best friend and his career and for the baffling love he has for you, I'll support you as much as I can. That way you'll give birth to a strong healthy baby! The fact that that baby is going to make him literally the happiest person in the world is the only reason I'm being nice here."

"Jesus, between you and Shitty Hair, I'll be getting enough paternal pheromones that Deku won't need to be in the picture," he groused, but that was a lie. No one could ever replace Izuku.

"Dirty lies," Ochako chirped.

Katsuki thought that would be the last of it, but one talk turned into Katsuki teaching her how to sew and knit which ultimately turned into long quiet hours of putting together onsie after onsie.

He wanted to hate it, he really did, but the feeling of growing his tiny little pack of soon to be five was intoxicating. So, he indulged. Izuku being excited about him making friends with Ochako was only an added bonus.

#my hero academia #mha #bakudeku #dekubaku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #omegaverse #omega!katsuki #alpha!izuku #my writing #multi-chapter #little life

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sylvain-writes · 5 years ago

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Scarlet Letters (TMNT Raphael x Reader)

Chapter 7/8: Seeing Red

This is the chapter to skip if you’re here for warm and fuzzies only. If you’re OK with canon-typical bad guy stuff, you’ll probably be fine.

No graphic depictions of violence. Rated T (Teens). DM me with questions. <3

(Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ao3)

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Wet stone presses imperfect dimples into your cheek where you lay. There's a metallic tang on your tongue, a familiar pain radiating down your arm. The air is close. You lie for a minute, just breathing. Listening. Taking in your surroundings without daring to open your eyes.

Raphael spoke endlessly about growing up in the sewers, and you know immediately this isn’t it. There’s no feeling of home. This isn't a place of safety.

You hear someone coming. Multiple sets of footsteps. The whisper of something being dragged down a long corridor. The heavy thump of that something being dumped somewhere to your left.

“What do you think he’ll do with them?” A voice sneers from above you.

A second voice speaks with authority. “Keep the antidote. Kill the freak.”

Footsteps fade and you think they’re gone.

A drug-induced fatigue leadens your limbs, but you push yourself onto your knees. Your elbows lock and arms tremble, but you crawl to the stone wall without collapse. Your eyes sting. Even in the dark, you can tell your vision has been compromised by whatever sedatives course through your veins. Your lungs burn, aching to cough, but you fight the urge.

Silence is your best friend.

The only light is that which shines from bare bulbs that adorn the stone walls. But they’re spaced so far apart that they hardly give any light to your cell at all.

And that’s what this is, you realize. A cell. You’ve been abducted. And now, you’re a prisoner. In some kind of dungeon.

The pair of guards return, shrouded in black, faces obscured. They approach the bars that cage you in, muttering to themselves. Their words are muffled by the fabric that covers all but their eyes.

The bright clang of metal on metal fills your ears and echoes against the confines of your skull. You narrow your eyes at the guards, trying to think through the migraine you woke up with.

Had you any strength left in your arms and legs, you’d move toward the gate. You’d prepare yourself to fight. But as you are, you rest your throbbing head back against the damp wall.

You recognize the weapon held in the guard’s fist as he drags it across the bars of your cell. It's a perfect match for Rafael's sai.

No. You swallow the word. The sai is a perfect match, except for the center prong. What had been blunt for Raphael's use in non-lethal combat, has since been sharpened to a dark-stained point.

A sharp jolt of pain shoots down from your shoulder through your fingertips, like the sai has triggered a physical memory your mind hasn’t caught up with. A whimper escapes your throat.

The guards’ interest in you shifts from amused to sinister. Your blood runs cold. Just as quickly, however, the figure to your left, imprisoned in their own cell, calls out.

“Over here assholes!”

A loud *BANG* shakes the bars.

“The freak wants some more.”

You take a breath. You try to reason. ‘If they're The Freak,’ you think, ‘then that makes you��’

You remember the day in flashes. Images of sharp focus that quickly blur and fade. A table. Restraints. An empty vial. A maniac in a mask. The teasing press of Raphael’s sai against your skin. Laughter as the maniac sharpens the weapon and prods you again. And, again, the vile. Not so empty anymore.

‘...The Antidote.’

A sound like thunder echoes down the cell block. You hope the banging means a rescue, but the bored groans of your captors make it obvious this is nothing new.

“Hey!” You hear the voice shout. The next bang is louder. “Whadda you think you’re doing, huh? Let us outta here and maybe I’ll let you live.”

The guards laugh as they turn toward the threat.

You drag yourself closer to the division between cells and press your forehead against the bars. The banging starts up again. Incessant.

It’s overwhelming: the noise, your double vision, your racing heart. The aftereffects of chloroform and whatever else the captors have you on is nauseating. Your headache intensifies.

You take steadying breaths, but still your mouth waters like you’re gonna be sick.

The guards have started yelling back. Whatever the other captive is saying, whatever they’re doing, it’s keeping the attention off of you. Their insults land hard, infuriating the shorter of the two guards, inciting them to grab a staff from behind their back and prod their prisoner like cattle.

Electricity arcs. The crackle and pop of the device sets the guards off laughing.

You cry out when they turn up the power and the shadowy figure’s knees hit the floor. But still, the prisoner fights back. Spits at your captors. Scolds their lack of honor and flawlessly picks at their insecurities.

‘An idiot,’ you think. ‘He's going to get himself killed.’

“Stop,” you rasp. Your throat is so dry, you wonder if anyone's heard you. You don't have to wonder for long.

“Well, look who's ready to join the party.” The guards look like they're coming your way before a far-off shout calls their attention. Twirling the stained point of the sai under their finger, the shorter guard promises, “Later, then.” With a jerk of their head toward the doorway, they snap their cloak behind them and go.

When the guards are gone you hear the other prisoner drag themself across the floor for the bars that divide your cells. They remain in the shadows. Under the fog of drugs, your vision is unreliable at best, but they look huge.

Inwardly, you feel the semblance of a smile. You’ve seen bigger. But your smile dies before it reaches your lips. You release a shaky breath as you simultaneously wish Raphael were here and thank everything you believe in that he isn’t. Though it feels like nothing short of a fantasy, you imagine he’s out there somewhere figuring out a way to get you out of this mess. But it’s ridiculous. He thinks you’re at work. Raphael won’t even realize you’re missing for close to a week.

“Are you OK?” The other prisoner asks.

You don’t know how they can be so calm. You don't ask them to explain how they’re conscious after being hit with so much electricity. You've seen how quickly Raphael has healed; you’re starting to believe that nothing is impossible.

Instead of further questioning your companion’s strength, you count it as a blessing. Still… “Was that a taser?”

“Heh.” Your companion is cocky. If only that were enough to overpower the guards. “Don’t worry about me. How are you?”

“They have me drugged. I can’t…” You take slow breaths to calm your nerves and your stomach. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. “There’s something wrong with my eyes.”

“Yeah. They tried that on me too. It’ll wear off. I, uh, know this sounds like shit advice, but you should try and sleep off the drugs.”

“Right. Sleep? Here?”

“I promise no one will touch you again.”

“How can you-”

“I’ll keep ‘em busy.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Who’s askin’?”

⁂

The sound of something slamming into cell bars wakes you. You don’t know how long you’ve been out, but the effects of the drugs are slowly wearing off like the other prisoner had promised. Even so, you’re left with a sensitivity to light, sound, and smell. And every turn of your head makes you woozy. But when push comes to shove, you think you’ll be able to run.

You don’t give yourself away to the guards. You know better. Let them see you as weak; they’ll underestimate you and maybe you’ll find a window for escape.

The shouting starts up again. Truth be told, the other prisoner’s speech is rather unremarkable, but every now and again you hear them drop an ‘r’ and your core aches for your red-banded warrior.

Another slam. Despite what they’ve suffered, the other captive is relentless. No, not only relentless; they’re, “Fearless.”

Oh.

Whatever the other captive was doing ceases after you whisper the word.

“What did you say?” The other captive asks, winded.

“You’re Fearless.”

You hear them breathing hard through their nose.

“Red was-”

Spoken, the color infuses the stranger with new vigor. You hear them scramble across their cell. A pair of large green hands grip the bars as your companion’s voice rises in question, “You know Raph? Where is he? Is he here? How is he?”

You recognize the tattered bindings on his knuckles for what they are. You know which of Raphael's brothers wears blue. Any doubt of this turtle’s identity is gone.

“I don’t know,” you answer him with honesty and concern. “I took him in when the storm hit. He had fallen. He was injured… I had just walked him home before I was taken.” You lift your hand to your head and bring it down, your fingers are wet and dark. The unrelenting migraine and lightheadedness make more sense.

“Is he...” Leonardo pauses as if struggling to wrap his head around the question. “Is he OK? Is he gonna be OK?”

“Yeah. And, I mean, you’ll see for yourself, right? Once we get ourselves outta this mess.” You feel dizzy and faint and the pain in your arm is excruciating. You know if you don’t lie down, you’ll injure yourself worse with a fall. “We are gonna get outta here, aren’t we?” You can feel yourself drifting in and out of consciousness as you curl into a ball. You don’t hear a response before the world slips away.

⁂

When you wake again it’s to the feel of a callused hand gripping your arm, giving you a rough shove. A quiet voice rumbles in your ear. “We gotta go.”

Your head pounds. The room spins. A broad, green face looms over you and your heart leaps. But as the world comes into focus, you see the eyes staring down at you are a striking shade of blue. Not Raphael, your mind supplies and your heart drops into your stomach. Not Raphael.

He’s trying to keep to the shadows, not wanting to frighten you, perhaps not trusting you won’t be shocked by his appearance. And when he steps into the light, you do cringe, but not because of his reptilian face or humanoid eyes, but because he's in worse shape than the Raph-sicle you found in the alley.

“I'm ‘The Freak’,” he says, extending his hand and thinking he's reading your mind.

“I'm ‘The Antidote’. Apparently.” With your injured arm hugged tightly to your chest, you slide your other hand into his. Though you know he’ll pull you up at any second, you sag against the bars for one last breath.

“It's Leo,” he corrects his introduction.

“Ah,” you say like it’s a revelation, “so this is what a lion looks like up close.”

“Huh?”

You quirk an eyebrow at him and wince when even that hurts. “Your brother has a better sense of humor.”

With a crooked smile, he lifts a shoulder and lets it drop. “All of them do.” Leo hoists you to your feet and the world tilts on its axis. You think you’re going to be sick. “We gotta go,” he insists.

You look at him. Really look. He’s been burned. Beaten. Bruised. “How did you get past the-?” As you stumble into the hallway, you almost trip over the bodies sprawled over the floor. “Oh.”

The thunderous footfalls coming down the stone staircase startle you to attention.

Leo readies himself to fight. “Do you remember when they brought you down here? Is there another way out?”

You don’t remember a thing, and just the strain of trying to think has your temples throbbing. “I don’t know.”

“Then, no offense but, try to stay outta the way,” he says. Then, crossing the distance with leaps and bounds, Leonardo dashes down the hall and up the stairs.

Beyond your field of vision, sounds of Leo’s attacks bounce off the stone, a confusing cacophony. You wait. There are cries and crashes and the clashing of swords. There are shouts for help and yelps of pain, until only one voice remains.

“Coast is clear.”

You hurry to the staircase and try to keep your eyes off the evidence of the fight. Your vision doubles and you feel like you can’t take another step, but Leo urges you on. Finally, you reach the top of the stairs and find yourselves in a large room. From the looks of the idols and altars, you guess this has to be some kind of temple or shrine.

There’s no time to consider alternatives. A crash overhead sends shards of stained glass raining down from the skylights. Leo keeps you on the move.

Running alongside him across the wide room, you search frantically for a door. “Where’s the exit?” you gasp before realizing Leo isn’t looking for one.

Looming larger with each stride you take toward it, a wall of ceremonial weapons comes into focus.

Another crash of glass is the only warning you receive before a trio of ninjas drop down from the ceiling.

“Nice of you to show up,” Leo quips as his brothers find their footing.

“Better late than never,” the purple-banded turtle announces. He’s breezy and matter-of-fact, like the temple isn’t swarming with very bad people wanting to do very bad things.

Raphael has landed heavily in front of you. You stumble back as he turns, tripping over your own feet, but you’re able to steady yourself on a rack of swords. Your bobble goes unnoticed as Leo takes up a pair of katanas from the display.

“Tell me you guys came here with a plan.”

“Yeah,” comes Raphael’s gruff response. “Get your ass outta here. That’s the plan.” The familiar grunt of exasperation lifts your spirits, but they can only rise so high before a wave of vertigo has you swaying into the weapon rack again.

A blade clatters to the ground and Raphael’s attention follows the sound. His eyes land on you and for a moment everything stops. He takes a step back like your presence has literally knocked the wind out of him. And, as if the air has been stolen from the room, you find yourself, likewise, unable to breathe.

“Wh…” He starts and stops as he blinks at you and you know he’s taking in your injuries.

You must look worse off than you thought because when he reaches out, his hands hover without touch. You’re desperate to feel the strength of them when your own hands feel so weak. But, unsure where to touch without causing you pain, Raphael holds back.

Emotions war over his features - surprise, worry, fear, sadness. You’re surprised by how much sadness you can see in his eyes.

“OK. New plan,” Raphael says. His words are for Leo but his eyes are still on you.

You can see the wheels in his head turning as he knocks his forehead with his fist.

"Got it." He smacks his hands together, one loud clap, and just like that, you see it. The flash in his eyes. Raphael's defenses slam like a steel door with anger locking it into place, preparing him for what’s next.

He turns to Leo with a snarl. “Mikey’s gonna take ___ outta here. And you, and me, and Donnie are gonna tear these bastards apart.”

“Raph-” You bite your tongue. You don’t mean to interrupt in the middle of all this. You don't want to be a distraction, to be in the way. But you don’t want to leave him; you don’t think you can bear another goodbye.

When Raphael’s gaze finds you again, it’s resolute and pleading. He speaks a command and an apology in one. “Go with Mikey.” Concern slips through the cracks in his armor. He brings his face close, drops his voice low. “He’ll keep ya safe.”

It’s only after you nod in consent that he turns his sights on the army of tattooed Dragons. Soldiers drop down from the ceiling and file in from all sides.

The flurry of activity makes your head spin, your ears ring. You think Mikey is shouting at his brothers, asking to stay. Somebody is throwing around numbers like they’re arguing the odds. But there’s too much going on for you to keep it all straight.

“Mikey,” Raphael growls through clenched teeth, “go, now!”

The orange-banded turtle hauls you away from the fight as the Dragons descend upon Donnie and Leo like a wave.

After one last look at you, Raphael dives into the fray - a streak of red in the blur of purple, blue, and black.

#Gender Neutral Reader #Raphael x Gender Neutral Reader #TMNT Raphael x gender neutral reader #TMNT Raphael x reader #Raphael x reader #Scarlet Letters fic #Raphael 2014/16 #Bayverse Raphael #Bayverse TMNT #TMNT 2014/16

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rohad93 · 5 years ago

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Authority Online : ch 13

She woke up sweating.

Some of that probably had to do with Celeste, suctioned up against her back under their shared blanket and radiating body heat like a furnace, but most of it was probably the green, polyester prison she was currently steaming alive inside.

It felt like a sauna inside the tent and she could already feel her bad mood rearing its ugly head as she became aware of everything sticking to every inch of her

The clamminess of her skin wasn’t doing a lot for her sunburn either, but she was torn. Celeste was pressed up against her back, with an arm slung over her waist and her face buried in between her shoulder blades, sleeping peacefully.

Now she was faced with the task of escaping Celeste’s grip and this prison without waking the slumbering baker, who was currently breathing hot air on her already too hot skin; which ultimately was the deciding factor.

She carefully and almost painfully, slowly pulled at each of her fingers knotted into the black fabric of the tank top the blonde had slept in till Celeste’s hand hung loosely over her waist. She slowly wiggled herself out from beneath the blanket, silently cursing under her breath and setting Celeste’s arm gently on the ground, no easy task with everything sticking to her damp skin.

The tents zipper may as well have sounded like a hail of gunfire as loud as it was in the quiet of the morning and the low sounds of Celeste’s breathing, but she never moved as Jaune crawled out of the tent, trying to make as little noise as possible.

She zipped it back up and sighed in relief as she stretched out to full height and the cool air hit her damp skin.

She cringed at the idea of another night in the damned thing as she ran a hand through her hair, pushing some wet strands away from her forehead and trying to finger comb what she was sure was outrageous bedhead, into submission.

The campsite was empty save for the other tent, from which she could hear faint snoring, otherwise it was perfectly quiet save for the ambient sounds of the woods all around her.

There was a light breeze blowing, rustling the bright green leaves overhead and the dull, distant humming of cicadas that always accompanied summer and was the telltale sign of a hot day.

The sun was still sitting just behind the treeline on the opposite side of the lake-shore, casting long, glimmering rays of light across the water that shone so brightly it blinded her when she looked right at them.

She could use a little cool water to wash off her face and a short walk to stretch her stiff muscles. Normally she wouldn’t be comfortable walking around outside in the shorts and tank top she slept in but she was hot and groggy and couldn’t care less, especially since their little campsite and section of the lake seemed to be isolated from anyone else, as she had yet to see anyone else except the occasional person in a boat.

She carefully picked her way down to the water’s edge with her bare feet and wadded out into the water up to her knees, it was cool. She stuck her cupped hands in and splashed the water on her face, and her grumpy, heat-induced mood was quickly evaporating with the water trickling down her face.

She sighed to herself, completely forgetting she’d ever been grouchy to start with. She picked up another handful of water and just let it run through her fingers, taking the quiet moment to just be, for once.

Except for the little ripples she was making as water dripped from her fingers the lake appeared like a smooth, unblemished mirror. Her reflection stared back at her from the smooth dark water, red-faced, and hair a mess.

She ran her wet fingers through her hair, pushing the pale yellow strands carefully into place.

Except for the painful sunburn she now had... and getting smacked in the face with the tent pole…. And the tent itself… she wasn't having as bad a time as she thought she might.

Not a great time either, mind you, but decent enough that she wasn’t going to complain, especially not to Celeste, or make her think that she was having a terrible time. She recognized how important this trip was to her girlfriend.

She had still yet to really interact with Rose at all. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was supposed to do or say. She certainly wasn’t going to prostrate herself to the twenty-eight year old school teacher. If she wanted to continue sending dirty looks her way for no reason then so be it.

She now had a better understanding of the situation but she had done nothing to warrant the younger woman’s suspicion and she wasn’t going to act as though she had.

She would be cordial and make any and all attempts to be friendly to Rose, but she had her pride, she was not going to beg for anything.

She was so lost in her thoughts, staring into her reflection in the water that she never heard the quietly approaching steps.

After a few minutes, she shook the excess water from her hands as she turned and stopped, finally noticing Celeste, sitting cross-legged on a large rock and smiling at her from the shore.

“Good morning,” she greeted, wading out of the water. “Did I wake you?”

“Good morning yourself and no, it was a bit hot in the tent, though I suspect you knew that already,” she laughed, looking at the lawyer, now damp with lake water.

“It was a little warm…,” she tentatively agreed but said no more. She wasn’t going to complain, she wasn’t. Celeste smiled knowingly, but didn’t comment on it further.

“How’s your face feeling?” She scooted off the rock to stand in front of Jaune. Cobalt eyes roaming over the burned skin of her face.

“Tender, but I’ll live,” she assured, lips curling into a smile as she watched Celeste examine her face with an amusing amount of concentration.

“Well, for that I’m glad,” she chuckled and laid a quick peck to the blonde’s cheek. “We’re supposed to go hiking once they get up, are you coming?”

“Of course”

It hardly mattered that she had never hiked before in her life, nor that her interest in it was minimal at best. She had already agreed to come on this trip, knowing it wouldn’t be her thing, but she refused to damper her girlfriend’s mood by turning down the activities. She wasn’t going to ruin the family’s time when she had come knowing she wouldn’t have a good time. She would suck it up; it was one weekend.

“You’re going to need a hat, we don’t want your burn to get worse…” Celeste hummed.

Jaune made a face. She wasn’t really a hat person… even if it was a valid point. She really didn’t want that to happen.

“You’ll live,” Celeste smirked, seeing the look. “If you’re done down here you can come help me make breakfast.” She held out her hand and Jaune didn’t hesitate to take it. Celeste just smiled, lacing her fingers between hers.

The other tent was still closed when they got back up the hill.

“I’m going to change,” Jaune said before crawling back inside the slow cooker that was their tent. She made quick work of it, eager to get back outside and changing inside the small space was no easy feat to start with for most people, much less someone as tall as her.

When she came back out Celeste had already started cooking on the small portable grill they had brought along and the smell of cooking eggs and sausage filled the air along with the coffee from the percolator sitting on the metal grates. She sat on the log nearby with her cup, waiting on the coffee.

Within a few minutes, loud shuffling and grunting noises started coming out of the red tent.

Jaune watched silently as the zipper suddenly opened up just enough for Steven to come crawling out with a bright grin. He made a beeline for his aunt, attaching himself to her legs.

“Morning!” He grinned brightly, much too cheerful for someone who just woke up.

“Good morning, love.” She bent down to place a kiss atop his black curls.

Jaune watched as she poured boiling hot coffee into her mug, catching the boys attention. He detached himself from Celeste to jog over, clambering up onto the log beside her.

"Hi, Jaune." He smiled up at the blonde with his wide, gapped tooth smile and she couldn't help but smile back.

“Good morning, Steven.”

"Are you going hiking with us?" he asked.

"I am" she nodded, taking a drink of the dark, steaming liquid.

Celeste watched the two out of the corner of her eye as Steven talked and Juane nodded along, occasionally throwing out short answers between sips of her coffee.

She smiled to herself.

Steven seemed rather fond of the lawyer, who was always happy to indulge the child's long winded and often off the wall conversations and topics that changed at the drop of a hat.

Something she was convinced he had inherited from his mother.

With low groans and grunts the red tent finally unzipped all the way and Rose came crawling out, looking haggard as she climbed to her feet and shuffled over to them.

“Good morning” Celeste greeted, moving eggs around the pan with a spatula.

Rose grunted out a word that almost sounded like ‘morning’ before grabbing one of the empty mugs and filling it with coffee.

Greg followed a moment later with a jaw cracking yawn as he rolled out, inch worming his way out on his back.

“Morning everyone,” he called out.

Steven abandoned his place beside Jaune to jog over to where his dad was laying on the ground and climb on top of him.

“Ughh” Greg groaned. “Steven please,” he rasped, closing his eyes, resigned.

Jaune snorted into her cup with a small grin.

~ ~~

After breakfast, camp was cleaned up and they set off down the trail into the woods.

Greg and Rose walked ahead, trying to keep up with Steven, running around and across the trail, climbing onto every rock and log he could find and jumping off them while giggling madly as he ran about, inspecting every plant, bug, animal and rock he could find.

Jaune and Celeste brought up the rear, walking a leisurely pace while Jaune fiddled with the wide brimmed fishing hat she had been forced to wear to keep the sun off her already burnt face.

She grumbled to herself under her breath as she pulled at the canvas material.

"It's fine, Jaune." Celeste rolled her eyes, exasperated with the blonde’s mumbling under her breath.

With a huff she finally took her hands away from the hat, but was still scowling.

"I'm not a hat person…," she huffed, fingers itching to go back and continue to mess with it.

Celeste reached out and wrapped her fingers around the lawyers right hand before she could think to fiddle with it again.

“Maybe it’s not your best look, but you need to keep the sun off your face,” she reminded, squeezing the fingers wrapped in hers.

Jaune made an unhappy noise but squeezed back and didn’t touch the hat again. Celeste just smiled to herself.

Luckily most of their hike through the woods, they were shaded by the trees that lined the path, especially as the sun continued it’s journey overhead, heating up the air and making her sweat beneath the damn hat. The cicadas were loud, but they eventually faded into the background noise of the woods.

The worn dirt path led steadily uphill, the thick foliage thinning out some the higher they went. At one point they found themselves walking along the side or a drop off.

While she wouldn’t call it a cliff, the thirty or so feet to the forest floor was fairly steep. From here they could see the lake, peeking out from between the trees.

Greg and Rose had stopped just ahead of them, talking quietly and passing their canteen back and forth. Jaune and Celeste were looking out at the view when Steven scrambled over to them.

“Are you having fun, love?” Celeste smiled down at him as he stopped at their feet.

“Yeah! I can see the lake!” He peered out into the distance, even from here the sun shining off the water made it too bright to look at.

His eyes were glued to the horizon, looking at everything there was to see and completely unaware of the thin, crumbling area of the ledge he was standing on.

Till the dry ground gave way.

It was a flurry of movement after.

Being closest to him, Jaune had immediately lunged forward as the boy began to tumble forward over the edge, both arms wrapping around him, but in her rush had overestimated the distance and for a split second found herself careening over the edge. She held the boy tightly to her chest as the world became a dizzy blur of color, sound and pain.

Rocks and sticks dug into her skin as they tumbled down the drop, bouncing off the ground. Several times before eventually rolling to a stop somewhere at the bottom, luckily they had missed all the trees that could have easily killed her had she rolled into them.

Everything hurt and it took several long moments for her head to right itself enough to realize Steven, still wrapped in her arms, was crying and wailing, but it was still a long minute before she got all her knocked out breath back and could find the strength to move.

She carefully pushed herself up, letting Steven out of her grip, but he stayed where he was, crying, but at the very least, very much alive. Nothing seemed to be broken, or at least didn’t feel broken. She flexed her arms and fingers, carefully pushing herself up onto her knees, gently testing her back and legs. Something warm and wet was running down her forehead into her left eye. She reached up and felt the liquid dripping from her brow and sure enough her fingers came back coated in blood.

She must have hit her head on a rock on the way down, it also explained the headache that was beginning to roar to life, drowning out all the other aches and pains in her body.

It was also only now that she was becoming aware of the screaming from up on the ridge.

She couldn’t see them through the canopy of leaves they had rolled beneath, but could hear them just fine.

“Steven!”

“Jaune!”

“W-we’re okay!” She yelled back up and the yells stopped for a second.

“We’re coming!” Greg’s voice bellowed and then the distant sound of running before it all went quiet.

It had taken them about half an hour to hike to where they had been, so even running it would take at least half that to go back down the path and around to where they were, she wiped away the blood still dripping into her face away with the back of her sleeve and turned to the boy, still laying in the dirt, crying.

“Steven, does anything hurt?” She very carefully helped the crying boy sit up, she’d held him tight against her but that didn’t mean nothing was broken, no doubt her weight had pressed fully against him at least a couple of times in the tumble down the ridge.

He nodded through his tears.

“What hurts?” she grunted, wiping the blood dripping into her eye from her forehead away again before pressing her sleeved arm against it to help staunch the blood flow.

“M-My ankle,” he sobbed, holding his right ankle.

“You have to let me see.” She gently pulled his hand away and moved her fingers over the skin. It didn’t seem to be broken but a bruise was starting to form; probably sprained.

“Can you walk?”

Sniffling and with fat tears running down his face he tried to stand but the moment he put weight on his right ankle he crumpled, wailing.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said gently, trying to soothe his tears.

“Momma!” He wailed, holding his ankle and gulping in large lungfuls of air, hiccuping between cries.

More blood dripped into her eye and she growled under her breath before quickly undoing the buttons on her plaid shirt and pulled it off, leaving her in the blank tank top.

She managed to rip off one sleeve and tie it tightly around her head, hopefully staunching the majority of the blood flow, at least for long enough that she could get something done!

She ripped off the other and carefully tied it around the boy's ankle while he cried. A temporary fix but better than nothing, anything to put pressure on it. She shrugged the now plaid vest onto her shoulders, she might need more fabric from it later.

She sighed, it would take less time to get back to camp if she could meet the other’s halfway.

She was going to have to carry him.

“Come on, Steven.” She helped maneuver him onto her shoulders, careful of his ankle.

He’d stopped wailing but was still sniffling, tears rolling down his round cheeks.

“I want momma…,” he hiccupped.

“I know, we’re going to go find them, okay?” She grunted as she stood, balancing the thankfully small for his age boy, and carefully started picking her way through the brush and undergrowth back the way they had come.

It was hot and humid down in the thick of the woods, top that off with the blood still slowly soaking through the fabric tied around her forehead and the sneaking suspicion that she had a concussion and Jaune had decided.

She really hated camping.

Steven sat quietly on her shoulders, hands loosely fisted into her hair, and occasionally sniffling.

“We’ll be there soon,” she gently assured him.

Luckily that was true, as a few minutes later she could hear the sounds of frantic running through the grass, along with heavy breathing

She rounded a bend and could see Greg, Rose and Celeste running toward them.

“Steven!” The man yelled over his panting.

He slid to a stop in front of her and carefully removed the boy from her shoulders and held him in a crushing embrace which Rose quickly joined, both with tears in their eyes.

Seeing Steven safe in his parents grasp, Celeste hurried over to her, also on the verge of tears. She looked like she wanted to wrap her arms around the blonde, but restrained herself, not knowing how injured she might be.

“You’re covered in blood!” Blue eyes were blown wide as she took in what Jaune assumed must be a rather grisly looking scene.

“I hit some rocks, I think. How bad is it?”

She reached up and gently held the blonde’s face, and hesitated a second before pulling up the material to look at the cut and winced, it tried to stick.

“It doesn’t look... terribly deep…” She bit her lip, pressing the fabric back down gently. It at least didn’t seem to be bleeding much anymore. Jaune nodded.

“I think he has a sprained ankle...” She nodded to Steven. Her head was killing her and she was so tied. “...and I think I have a concussion,” she rumbled, closing her eyes. The sunlight was killing her head and her burned face.

“We gotta go,” Greg said upon hearing this, moving Steven to his shoulders and they moved quickly back toward camp.

Celeste stayed close to her side, watching her worriedly and holding her arm when she stumbled a little over the thick underbrush.

It only took about fifteen minutes to get back to camp but it felt like so much longer as her head throbbed with every beat of her heart.

“Get in the van” Greg handed their son to Rose and opened the back doors.

“What about all our gear?” Rose looked at him as she held Steven.

“I’ll come back for it another day, we need to get Jaune to the hospital and have Steven checked out.”

Jaune and Celeste climbed into the back while Rose hopped into the front passenger seat with Steven still curled up in her arms, his face buried in her neck.

The tires spun when Greg punched it. The dirt road jerked them around a little as he sped back toward town

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Celeste asked her quietly as she used an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit on the many tiny cuts on the blonde’s arms and face she hadn’t even noticed. Thankfully she’d been wearing jeans.

“I don’t think so…,” she mumbled, her eyes sliding closed but not five seconds after they did, Celeste was shaking her.

“Jaune, I know you’re tired, but you need to keep your eyes open, you can’t go to sleep yet, darling.”

“I know,” she grunted, eyes opening, but still trying to fall shut. Rose watched them over her shoulder and Greg frowned, glancing at them in the rearview mirror.

Once her cuts were cleaned, Celeste sat next to her, holding her hand and keeping her awake till they got to the hospital.

~ ~ ~

It was getting dark when they got back to the bakery after Steven had been released with a small sprain hours before and Jaune, who they had wanted to watch for a few hours and did indeed have a concussion though thankfully, by a miracle, a minor one.

“I’m going to take Jaune home.” Celeste told Rose as they walked through the bakery, they could see the blonde outside, leaning against her car, arms crossed and frowning, waiting on Celeste. Several butterfly bandages holding the cut on her forehead closed and honestly, looking like a ragged, bloody mess in her torn jeans and plaid, blood stained, now vest. “I don’t want to leave her alone, as least for tonight.”

“That sounds like a good idea… but, before you go… I gotta talk to her,” Rose said.

“Right now? She’s really not…,” Celeste started, only for Rose to cut her off.

“Right now,” she insisted, walking out the lobby doors with her older sister on her heels.

“Jaune,” she called, approaching the blonde, who looked up, both brows rising in silent question upon seeing the school teacher approach.

Instead of stopping Rose walked straight into the lawyer, wrapping her arms around her waist and squeezing.

If she hadn’t been so shocked, Celeste would have found the wide eyed look on her girlfriends face quite comical.

“Thank you,” Rose said, squeezing the blonde even harder for a brief moment, mindful of her injuries “Thank you so much.”

Before she could think of anything to say, Rose let go, stepping back and wiping at her eyes. “

“I’ll see you both later,” she said before turning and walking back inside.

Jaune looked at her and she shrugged, but was smiling.

“It probably would have been so much worse then a sprained ankle if you hadn’t been holding onto him so tightly. You probably saved his life.”

“It was just instinct…” Jaune shrugged, looking away. There hadn’t even been any conscious thought to it. She’d seen him falling and she’d reacted.

“We’re all still very grateful.” Celeste insisted. “Come on, let’s get you home,” she said, climbing into the driver’s seat of Jaune’s car.

The five minute trip was spent in relative quiet and Jaune headed straight for the shower the second she walked into the house and Celeste waited in the living room for her.

When she finally came back out, her damp hair was combed back and the dried blood on her face was washed away. She was wearing fresh, clean clothes and looked far better then she had twenty minutes beforehand.

“Feel better?”

“Immensely” Jaune sighed, plopping down onto the sofa beside her and leaned her head on the baker's shoulder. They sat there in companionable silence for a few minutes before Celeste couldn’t help herself.

“I’m sorry I made you go with us.”

Amber eyes popped open and she sat up to better look at Celeste.

“You didn’t make me do anything,” she started. “I chose to go.”

“But I know you didn’t want to…, I could tell you weren’t exactly having a good time even before you fell off the trail,” Celeste countered, frowning.

Jaune frowned, lips pursed, before finally sighing.

“No, I didn’t. I’m not an outdoor person, I never have been.” She shrugged.

“Then why did you agree to come?” She turned to better face Jaune.

“I just wanted to spend time with you and make you happy,” she finally said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world and Celeste supposed it was.

Cobalt stared into amber for a long moment before she leaned forward, her forehead gently pressed to Jaune’s, mindful of her cut and sighed.

“I do appreciate it, Jaune, really I do, but please, darling, next time, just tell me, alright? You're not as much fun when you're sunburned and grumpy.” She chuckled.

“Right” Jaune smirked, eyes closing and body sagging.

“Tired?”

She hummed an affirmative. Exhausted was a better word, and she still had a headache, though not as pounding as it had been.

“Come on then, let’s get you to bed.” She stood up and held out her hand.

Jaune took it and let Celeste lead her down the hall to her own bedroom, hitting the lights as they went.

She all but fell into the bed, glad it wasn’t a tent.

She could hear Celeste chuckle to herself as she flicked off the bedroom light and climbed in behind her, arm wrapping around her waist.

Lips pressed softly against the back of her neck, followed by a quiet, breathy goodnight.

She mumbled the sentiment in turn, hand finding the one slung over her waist and gave it a brief squeeze before finally getting to close her eyes and let the sleep she had been fighting off for hours finally take her.

#Bellow diamond #yellow diamond #blue diamond #pink diamond #Steven universe #Greg Universe #Au #fic #Authority Online

17 notes · View notes

gingerpeachtae · 5 years ago

Text

Concentric [14]

masterlist

Words: 7.1k

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut (?)

Warnings: none (maybe just a brief violent description)

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: Reminder that I am moving to a biweekly posting schedule due to classes and work starting up again! Hope you all engoy the chapter! 💙

He remembered the cold landscape invading his body, starting at his fingertips and creeping over his skin until it enwrapped his heart. Turning him empty and barren.

He remembered the black smoke clogging his lungs. The scattered remains of his home burnt to the ground just like his soul. Turning him bitter and savage.

He remembered the glint of moonlight on metal. The yelps and cries of dying wolves. The lack of mercy. Turning him hateful and deadly.

The beginning of his descent into the harsh reality of the world.

His cruel awakening.

Amarok reminisced the euphoria he felt the first time he and his three wolves ransacked a lonely village in the night. The screams of pain and gushing of blood that embraced him and encouraged him to continue. The snapping of his wolves’ jaws. The tearing of flesh. The slicing of muscle and sinew. The squelch of his blade entering warm bodies. The destruction. The chaos.

All for Uzjuk.

He recalled gathering more to serve the cause appointed to him. Bringing in those who had felt the world’s suffering and had a desire to inflict it upon others. Those who knew of Illai’s unfairness. Those who hated the goddess just as he did.

Amarok leaned back in his chair, smiling to himself as he thought of the army he curated for his master. The people willing to expend their lives for the rise of anarchy. The people willing to kill and be killed without hesitation or remorse. The draikensu.

It was dark in his tent, save for two candles lit on a small table in the corner. The bare trace of flickering light being just enough to see the vague outline of the contents within the temporary room.

As he reclined in his seat, the male felt a claw rake against his mind as the darkness around him began to grow murky and curl toward him in wisps. A disturbing, chill-inducing feeling that crept to the very edges of his being. But he no longer shivered at it. Not anymore. It was now a familiar and welcomed sensation that signaled the arrival of his master.

Leaning his head back, Amarok closed his eyes and relished in the darkness coiling around and inside of him.

“What is taking so long?” The deep, guttural voice of his master croaked out.

Amarok sighed, knowing his master would not like his answer. “There have been… complications.”

A searing pain swiftly drilled into Amarok’s mind, causing him to groan and clutch his head. It felt like a heated knife was dragging through the contents of his brain, severing and cutting and cauterizing. His fingers dug into his skull, trying to add pressure to relieve the pain.

“I do not like complications.” His master hissed.

Gasping, Amarok apologized, telling his master that two large groups of draikensu had been sent after the key. The second being a reserve in case the first failed their mission.

The agony bestowed on Amarok’s mind lessened just a smidge as his master contemplated his words. Another minute of painful suffering went by, with the male gritting his teeth and containing his whimpers so as to not appear weak in front of his master. Then, finally, it gradually dissipated until Amarok’s mind was free from the burning, imaginary knife. Letting out a slightly shaky breath, he removed his hands from where they had been clawing at the arm rests of his chair.

“Prepare the rest of the subordinates anyway,” his master uttered throatily, his voice rough and frigid. “If those two little groups of yours do not succeed, then you will personally deal with the boy. The key within the bloodline must be killed. Understood?”

Amarok grinned, a sickening and unsettling thing as his eyes darkened with delight at the thought of being the one to carve out the key’s heart.

The male shut his eyes, envisioning himself thrusting his sword deep into the key’s chest so that he was speared to the earth. “The boy will die soon… I can assure you of that.”

“He better.”

The eldest of the kiela sat down on the ground next to the leader, sighing and leaning his head against a tree while they both observed the mess before them.

Jimin and Jiae were sitting so close their noses were basically touching. Both of them were squishing each other’s cheeks with adoring smiles plastered to their faces.

Mingi was on his back, rolling side to side like an overturned beetle while his eyes darted around frantically.

You were still wrapped in Jungkook’s arms, your back to his chest and his chin on your shoulder. He hummed softly in your ear as he rocked the two of you back and forth in a comforting manner.

Then, there was Tae. The grey-haired Saeni was continuously crawling around; whining that nobody would cuddle with him.

You would have smooshed him to your chest if you weren’t already snatched up in someone else’s arms. Shifting slightly on the ground, you exhaled and lifted your gaze to the swirling mass of treetops above you. You smiled at the whirlpool of stars and leaves and night. Shivered at the contact of Jungkook’s lips brushing against your neck. You kept looking up, you didn’t know exactly how long, but long enough for your head to start spinning with the sky. With a content sigh, you lowered your eyes back down and turned your attention to the two males that seemed different from the rest of the group. You wondered what they were so serious and why they looked so tired.

Maybe their neighbor was throwing a party all night long so they couldn’t sleep…

“Is there really nothing we can do except sit here and wait?” Jin asked the male beside him.

As the raven-haired male continued ogling at the pandemonium, he noticed your eyes on him and sent you a weird, questioning look. In return, you wiggled your fingers at him while your eyes went in and out of focus.

“Not really… unless you would like to pile everyone on your shoulders and carry them back,” Namjoon responded.

You suddenly perked up with a gasp, jolting Jungkook in the process. “You could do it Jin! You know why!? ‘Cuz you got the Better Ingredients. Better Shoulders. Papa Jin’s!”

You fell back into Jungkook as a fit of giggles overtook your body. Though Jin and Namjoon just stared at you in complete befuddlement.

“WAIT. IS THERE PIZZA!?” Jimin screamed at you in excitement, which caused everyone to fall quiet and gawk at the half-Saeni.

Well, everyone except for you. Instead, you pouted and shook your head; giggles fading into silent disappointment.

Jimin’s shoulders slumped with yours, but he still replied in a hopeful tone, “Can we order some, though?”

You went to nod, but your expression quickly morphed into a full frown as you realized that there was no way for you to order it. The Saeni didn’t have cell phones, so you couldn’t call in the order. And even if they did, you doubted they could deliver this far out into the forest. You sniffled at the thought of your delectable yet unattainable pizza pie.

I just want some greasy cheese.

Jungkook, hearing the tiny noise escape past your lips, nuzzled into your neck while murmuring that although he had no idea what you were talking about, he would get you one later. His promising words caused a new grin to appear on your face… but you weren’t sure if it was from Jungkook’s statement or just Jungkook himself. Regardless of the reason, you just leaned further into the male behind you and held onto the arms that protectively caged you in.

“Ugh, how much longer until the toxin is out of their bloodstreams?” You heard Jin ask.

“It should be soon… hopefully.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tae collapse on top of Mingi and order the guard to cuddle him. You tilted your head so it rested on Jungkook’s shoulder as you watched Mingi lay motionless underneath the male the clung to his long body. He stayed that way for several moments until he finally gave in and embraced the Saeni on top of him, causing Tae to squirm and cheer in joy.

“Oh my goddess, please let it be soon.” Jin released a deep, overworked sigh.

Smiling to yourself, you closed your eyes and adjusted so you could lean your head back onto Jungkook’s solid chest. The male resumed his soft humming and the low, pleasant sound vibrated from his body into yours. It felt soothing and comforting. It was so relaxing. Without meaning to, your breaths started to slow… slow… slow down until you slipped into an easy sleep.

You were jostled awake by someone gently shaking you. As your mind was forced to return to reality, you moaned lightly and tried to squeeze your eyes shut.

“I’m sorry…” You heard a voice you recognized whisper in your ear.

The voice said something else, but you were still too groggy to comprehend what it was.

Why does this seem familiar…?

The voice whispered another apology in your ear and gave you another shake.

Familiar. Why is this so familiar? And why do I feel so light like a balloon?

Lips that must be attached to the voice grazed your skin and you felt the ghost of a hand caress your face.

All of the sudden, you remembered, and your eyes snapped open. You remembered the lump forming in your throat, the smoke pulsating toward you, the earth swallowing you whole, his face breaking apart.

You shoved him off you while simultaneously turning around and bracing your hands on the dirt behind you. Jungkook stared at you with worried eyes and confused eyebrows drawn together. He reached a hand out to you, but you lurched backwards with sluggish limbs and a fuzzy mind. You wanted to get away from him before he cracked and became twisted and wrong… but you also wanted to hold him and ward off the smoky darkness. You didn’t know what to do. The world seemed to weave and spin around you, and you looked at the concerned burgundy head with panicking eyes.

You flinched as he tried reaching out to you again, but you didn’t move away. “Is your face gonna sh-shatter again?”

In the moonlight, you saw his green eyes narrow at you as he stopped his hand. You heard the wind blow through the leaves and the wildlife chirp around you. You heard him gently say you name, but all you could focus on was the black expanse behind Jungkook’s head. You just stared at it.

Waiting for it to start.

Terrified it would.

You began to rapidly suck in air as your eyes bore into the darkness. You felt a pain in your heart as all you felt you could do was wait for the black to begin growing and curling around his form. For it to ruin him and infiltrate you.

“Sweetheart…” Jungkook hesitantly said but continued when you didn’t shy away. “You’re okay… you’re just still feeling the effects of the lillaf toxin.”

You cocked your head to the side and brought your eyes back to the male’s face. Why isn’t he crumbling like a Nature Valley bar? And why is talking about leaf toxin? What he should be talking about is Toxic by Britney, bitch.

Before you knew it, he was by your side and was tenderly helping you to your feet. With a small smile, he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear and took your hand in his. The action made the corners of your mouth upturn ever so slightly. Then, he slowly began leading you toward a group of Saeni you hadn’t realized was there. Your unfocused eyes made it difficult to see where you were placing your feet and your body wavered side to side as you made your way forward. You let out a small laugh and other random noises with each slip of your feet, but thankfully, Jungkook’s grip helped keep yourself upright and somewhat stable.

“Why is she still like that?” You heard a voice you would know anywhere say.

Your eyes brightened as you took in his apricot head and then the rest of the group. You listened as Jungkook explained that it must be because you were human… whatever that meant. You giggled as their puzzled expressions almost instantaneously transformed into those of understanding while a gust of wind danced through the trees. The cool air caused you to shiver and shuffle closer to Jungkook and the warmth emitting from his strong body.

“Aw, is my little scorja cold? Come here, you!” Tae cooed and tried to gather you in his arms.

But he did not succeed because of one Jeon Jungkook.

The maknae tugged you closer to him, expelling a laugh that didn’t sound like his normal one before turning to Namjoon and JIn. “Time to go, right hyungs?”

The two Saeni just rolled their eyes and nodded; turning around and starting to walk away while muttering about how lucky Yoongi and Chungha were to not have to deal with this.

I wonder what issue they’re dealing with? Everything seems fine to me! It’s all gumdrops and rainbows and stars.

The others began to trail after them, albeit at a much slower pace as they groaned about headaches and queasy stomachs.

“Why do they look so poopy?” You asked the male beside you with a teeny tiny smile at your word choice, but it fell when you noticed him wince and wrap an arm around his torso. “A-Are you okay?”

He flashed you a smile with tired, green eyes and reassured you that he was fine. Then, he gave you a small nudge to signal it was time to start following everyone.

You walked, or more accurately stumbled, after the other Saeni for several minutes. Veering side to side, Jungkook kept having to tug you back to him when you would meander a little too far away and risk pulling your hand out of his. But it was just so hard to keep your path straight and your head up. You could barely keep your eyes open, and when you did, the world was a mass of blurred lines and swirls. Your legs felt heavy and you kept tripping over things since your feet basically dragged along the forest floor.

“You good there, sweetheart?”

“Mhmm. Just… really snoozy…” You whined back almost incoherently. “I want… cuddles.”

You were so drowsy you almost couldn’t move your lips to form words. Everything just felt too cumbersome.

Where’s my cuddle buddy? Where’s my TaeTae?

You practically tumbled over some sort of obstacle on the ground, but Jungkook was quick to catch you. You mumbled a thank you with a sleepy sigh and went to move again but he stopped you.

“Want to get on my back?”

You paused, body tilting and swaying with the trees, but ultimately, you stuck out your bottom lip a bit and slowly nodded. The green-eyed male smiled and asked if you would be able to jump up on his back on your own, which made you rear back and release a tiny scoff.

He doubts my abilities? Who does this cute, handsome, tall glass of water think he is!?

With his eyebrows raised skeptically, he turned around to present you his back and you thumped your hands down on his shoulders to steady yourself. You counted to three out loud before launching yourself at him. He grunted from the sheer, unrestrained force of your jump and scrambled to place his hands underneath your thighs. Once he had a safe and secure grip on you, he bounced you once, twice, and a third time to make sure you were fully hoisted.

“See?” You wrapped your arms around him and interlocked your hands over his chest. “I can do it.”

Jungkook just snorted and began hiking through the trees again.

You settled against him, careful not to bump into the swords strapped to his back as you pressed your cheek to his neck. “You’re warm and comfy. And you smell good.”

Like earth and iron and steel, but also fresh rain and flowers and sunshine.

He chuckled lightly, the sound singing in your ears. “Just go to sleep.”

“M’kay… thank you… Kookie…”

You felt your lids finally droop closed and your muscles completely relax.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he whispered back.

That was the last thing you heard before you drifted off.

When you woke up later that morning, it wasn’t because of someone shaking you or a hand tracing against your skin or a body squishing you flat. It was actually because of a sharp, bright ray of morning light beaming straight down into your face. With your eyes still closed, you deeply inhaled and stretched your arms above your head, enjoying the warmth cascading around you. Once you finished your morning cat stretch, you went to open your eyes but immediately recoiled and brought the blanket over your head.

Fucking hell, that’s bright.

Bracing yourself, you gingerly lowered the blanket and let your eyes adjust to golden rays of late morning through squinted lids.

Hold up… it’s already light out which means… SHIT I’M LATE FOR TRAINING, COCO IS GONNA KILL ME.

You threw the blanket off and sat up quickly, but the abrupt movement caused a wave of nausea to erupt in your stomach. Clutching your tummy, you stumbled to your feet with a moan and began digging through your backpack. As you rifled through the contents for your daily petals, a pounding headache began to steadily build in your noggin.

Great. Just fucking fantastic. That’s exactly what I need right now.

You began muttering to yourself. “Why didn’t anybody wake me up!? Oh bloody hell, training is going to be an absolute bitch now. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Where are they!?”

You paused your search to look around you, finally noting through your panic and headache that you were completely alone. The other Saeni’s belongings were neatly packed and leaning against various trees and rocks, but the owners were nowhere to be found. The bonfire from last night was dead; the remnants still smoking but only in small, tiny wisps.

“Wait. Where is everyone?” You cocked your head to the side for a second before returning to your backpack. “Argh! Why can’t I find these damn motherfucking pe-Yes!”

You snatched up the objects and shoved them into your mouth to let them dissolve. Your body trembled from the magic and it made your headache pulsate even harder. Wincing, you located your bottle of aspirin and popped two pills into your mouth while the galaxies and comforting sense dimmed and disappeared. You swallowed the pills dry, wrinkling your nose a bit when you did so due to the bitter taste.

Not looking up, you swept the ground with your eyes until you spotted your bow a few feet away. You quickly shuffled over to it on your knees while talking to yourself about how you felt like utter crap and how you knew Jungkook wouldn’t show you a hint of mercy because you were late.

As you picked up the bow, you let out a pathetic wail. “I don’t even know where he is! What the heck am I supposed to do!?”

You suddenly heard a snicker from behind you and your entire body froze before slowly turning around. There was the entire kiela, plus Jiae and Mingi, all looking at you in amusement. Chungha, on the other hand, seemed completely disinterested as she picked at her nails. You blinked at them and opened your mouth, but no sound came out.

How did they…? Where did they come from?

Seeing your helplessly confused expression, Hobi laughed. “We’ve been here the whole time, little scorja.”

“It’s later than you usually get up, so yesterday’s petals were expired,” Tae added.

“So, you couldn’t see us because of the glamour,” Namjoon finished.

You crumpled to the ground in sheer embarrassment as your face grew hot. As you did so, another wave of nausea rippled through you and you released a groan.

Resting a hand on your abdomen in hopes the extra body heat would help alleviate some of the pain, you cried out. “Why do I feel like shit?”

Jin walked over to your folded body and offered you an apple with a sweet smile. “That would be your body dealing with the last bits of toxin still in your system.”

Brief memories from last night flashed across your mind. Walking. Screaming. Little red devils. More screaming. Swirling skies. Softness against your fingers. Tears. Humming. Warmth. Sleep.

You sat yourself back up and narrowed you eyes at the Saeni you were with last night. “Why am I the only one feeling, and I’m sure looking, like I was run over by a truck.”

Laboriously, you reached out and grabbed the apple before holding it against your mouth to try to muster the energy to bite into it.

Jungkook shrugged, his peridot eyes glittering in bemusement. “Maybe because you’re human? Chim hyung took longer to snap out of it too, but not as long as you.”

You massaged your temples, grumbling about dumb heightened sense and abilities which apparently included flushing out toxins.

Jungkook continued, his tone almost proud. “Which is why I didn’t wake you up for training. I knew you needed to rest as much as possible.”

Rolling your eyes, you bit into the crunchy apple, and spoke with your mouth full. “Wow, someone give him an award for being considerate.”

Mingi snorted, causing Jungkook to glare at the guard as everyone went back to doing whatever they had been before you roused from your slumber. Jimin came over and helped you to your feet. You munched on the fruit, enjoying the refreshing taste, but not being particularly pleased at how each chew made your head pound even more.

“You look even worse than after that Halloween party that one ye-”

You poked the apricot head in the chest. “We do not speak of that day.”

Your best friend laughed and held his hands up in surrender before running one of them through his hair. He proceeded to tell you that after he sobered up last night, he started feeling another pull toward a draeva. Jiae confirmed this morning that it wasn’t his own connection flaring up either… it was an entirely new feeling.

“It’s different this time. I think it’s my father’s.”

You nodded and took another bite of your fruity breakfast.

Back to GPS Slim Jim, I guess.

You and he talked for a few more minutes about what the pull felt like and how far away he thought it was coming from. Then, after giving your hair a ruffle, he left to go back to Jiae. Once he was gone, you sat down on the ground heavily, praying the aspirin would kick in soon. Moaning a bit at your hurting body, you began to roll your blanket up and gather your belongings to leave.

Hours later, you were strolling next to Yoongi and speaking in a hushed tone as you tried your best to coach him on fixing his flirting. Thankfully, you finally felt normal… no more headache or aching tummy. You were able to enjoy the cool, sunshiny day and give the mint-haired Saeni your full attention.

You skipped around a mass of broken tree limbs that littered the ground. “He said you’ve been acting weird so… I don’t know. Stop that.”

You still never referred to his crush by name, even though he most definitely knew that you knew who it was. But you didn’t want Yoongi to become embarrassed and cease coming to you for help, so you just continued using “him” so the male would feel more comfortable.

His pink eyes swiveled to you and he scowled before whisper-shouting back. “I have not been weird! I’ve been totally and fully calm and collected.”

You met his eyes and raised a single brow as you stepped up and over a half-rotten and moss-covered log.

The Saeni dropped his gaze and tapped his fingers together, causing tiny sparks of blue. “O-okay, so maybe I’ve been muttering a lot and, uh, sort of running away if he touches me.”

Your body slightly spasmed as you pursed your lips and resisted the urge to flick his forehead. “Yeah… you need to stop that. Like immediately.”

He let out a long puff of air, head slumping to look at the ground as he described how he couldn’t help it. He just got so flustered and overthought things every time he was near the other. He ultimately thought it was better to leave than make a fool of himself.

You touched his arm lightly with your fingertips. “But doing that might make him think you’re mad at him.”

His head darted up in panic. “But I’m not!”

You nodded understandingly, but told him that while you knew that, he didn’t.

As you jumped onto a large rock that was basking in the sun, a burst of shouts and giggles to your right caused you to peer through the maze of trees. Through the greenery, you saw Jungkook and Tae holding branches and using them as weapons in a mock sword fight. They rushed through the forest, chasing and attacking each other. You smiled warmly at the duo before hopping down and returning your eyes to the magic user..

You watched as the mint-haired Saeni moved his hands and made little tendrils of blue light grow and fade. He sighed and shook his head while ducking below a bundle of leaves, and you saw his bone earrings shake with the movement.

“This is too much for me to handle. Between you helping me with this and me helping Kook wi-” He suddenly cut off his words so fast you heard his teeth clack together.

You looked at him in confusion as he whipped his head to his youngest brother briefly before bringing his wide eyes to you.

“I-I mean with-nothing… I’m not helping anyone,” he stuttered.

Wait. But didn’t he…?

You pushed your lips forward and raised a palm in question. “I thought Jungkook said you helped him realize why we fight a lot?”

Yoongi sputtered, pressing his hands together. “Oh… oh! You mean that! Yeah, you’re right. I, uh, told him to explain shit to you. That’s it, though. Nothing else.”

“Right… okay…” You slowly nodded and regarded him with squinted eyes.

Brushing some leaves out of the way, Yoongi replied, “Ha ha. Yeah… so, anyways! Um, what should I do besides just ‘stop that?’”

Lifting the same leafy branch out of your way, you said, “Maybe try sitting close to him at dinner. Not like on top of him, you know, but closer than usual.”

The Saeni agreed and proceeded to ask you more questions and inquire what he should do about this and that. You continued trying to answer to the best of your abilities, keeping what you knew about both Yoongi and Hobi in mind as you did. Every once in a while, though, you couldn’t help but look over to the right. To where your dear sweet angel of a friend and your aggravating, but passionate and uplifting… friend… were still playing.

A little while later, Namjoon called for a short break when you broke through the trees and entered a small clearing. You slumped to the ground in a sunlight patch, rubbing your sore and tired legs before stretching them out. Most of the other Saeni were doing the same, although Jungkook and Tae yanked Hobi and Jimin to their feet and pulled them into a game of aggressive tackle tag. You chuckled and shook your head at them, in disbelief that they didn’t want to rest for even a second. As you swept your eyes over the relaxing Saeni, you stopped your gaze on the one person you have yet to hold a substantial conversation with.

Chungha.

Maybe since Mingi and I are cool now, she’ll want to be friends too…

Grunting from your protesting leg muscles, you stood and trekked over to the female guard. She had an expressionless face as she surveyed the area and surrounding environment. Turning to you as you approached, her face morphed into something that looked almost… unimpressed?

Oookay, not a good start.

“Um, hey, Chungha! How, uh, how are you today?”

Her eyes flickered to yours briefly before looking away. “Fine.”

Alright, so that’s strike one for you, Y/N.

“Oh, good! That’s… good.” You forced a laugh and tucked some hair behind your ears. “So, how long have you been a guard?”

The girl let out a bored exhale and flipped her dark green hair over her shoulder. “Longer than Mingi but not as long as Suho had been.”

You bit your lip and nodded. That’s probably strike two.

“Okay, cool! Cool cool cool cool cool. Um, so how-”

“Are we done?” She didn’t say it harshly, just extremely disinterested.

You snapped your jaw closed before rapidly nodding and walking away to leave her be.

Strike three, you’re out. No new friends for you.

You shrugged to yourself as you retreated, not really upset about it. You couldn’t be friends with everyone, so oh well. You did your part and tried at least.

“Don’t take it personally, she’s like that with basically everyone.”

You looked up to see Mingi standing in front of you. His arms were crossed over his chest and his hazel eyes were soft. You smiled and told him you didn’t, and that it was fine. Then, you began laughing uncontrollably as you recalled the events from the previous night. He gave you a questioning look as you tried to calm down.

“It’s just… you didn’t even want to go on a walk last night and then we all got bitten and… and…” You lost yourself in laughter, folding over and wrapping your arms around your middle.

The guard groaned while cracking a smile. “Just… let’s not ever mention that incident to the king. I don’t think he would be happy to hear I wasn’t doing a good job protecting his daughter.”

You sent him a wink. “My lips are sealed, but Tae though…” You tsked. “He tends to be a bit of a blabber mouth so…”

Mingi’s smile fell while his body froze, and you couldn’t contain your serious façade. Smiling again, you fake punched him on the shoulder and said you were just joking… maybe.

The male rolled his hazel eyes and went to say something else but stopped when a certain Saeni appeared out of nowhere and began tugging on your arm.

“Come play with us!” Jungkook pleaded.

You jumped at his sudden proximity before turning your eyes on him. The burgundy male was breathing heavily and repeatedly pulling on your arm, trying to get you to come with him. You heard another voice yelling out, coming closer with each passing second. Looking beyond Jungkook, you saw Hobi barreling toward you as he targeted the green-eyed male beside you. Following your gaze, Jungkook cursed when he saw the kiela’s spy charging after him and he renewed his efforts of persuading you.

“Come on, sweetheart. Please?” He sent you a smile that made you melt while stepping closer to you.

“Uh… okay, yeah, sure,” you said as you stared at the eager boy with the dashing face that was just so close to you.

With a satisfied grunt, Jungkook slid his hand down to yours and took off in the direction away from an arriving Hobi. Which meant you were dragged after him with a yelp.

As you tried to keep up with Jungkook’s strides, you screamed back, “Sorry Mingi! Talk to you later!”

The green-eyed Saeni looked behind him and smiled at you before sending a smirk over your head and gripping your hand tighter.

You, Jungkook, Hobi, and Tae continued your game of tag even after Namjoon told everyone it was time to start moving again. Jimin, unfortunately, was called back up to the front of the group to resume his job as the GPS.

The boys were being generous enough to not body slam you into trees or onto the ground like they would each other. And whenever they would tag you, it was usually just a big smack to your back that caused you to stumble forward, but not lose your footing entirely. Then, they were nice enough to run a bit slower when you were “it” so you would actually have a chance at tagging one of them.

Currently, you were hiding behind a large trunk that provided substantial cover for your entire body. The rest of the group was maybe a good seventy yards ahead of you, but you kept your eyes peeled and ears alert for Jungkook, who was “it.” You were breathing deeply, and your body screamed at you for the unnecessary exertion. But you sent a nice fat mental middle finger to the sore pain thrumming through you because you were really enjoying yourself and having fun.

Peeking around the trunk, you flinched as you heard Tae shriek in the nearby distance, but you didn’t see a single flash of burgundy against the greenery of the forest. Letting out a sigh in relief, you began jogging forward as quietly as you could. You made it about thirty yards when a blur ran past you screeching.

“RUN, LITTLE SCORJA!”

Tae.

You whipped your head in the direction he had come from and saw Jungkook sprinting after him.

Shit!

You pivoted on your feet, gearing to run after Tae and away from the extremely competitive maknae, but it was too late. He’d already noticed you. Smirking, Jungkook changed course, forgetting about his previous target. You watched, sort of like a deer in headlights and almost in awe, as his metal earrings glinted in the sunlight and his muscles flexed with each stride he took toward you.

Toward me? Oh fuck, run you dumb bitch!

You took off, pumping your legs and weaving around trees and vaulting over fallen timber. Obviously, you weren’t faster than he was, and it was only a matter of seconds before he caught you. A small part of you did hope that maybe Hobi or Tae would show up and save you, though.

You sucked air into your lungs and briefly peeked over your shoulder, expecting to see the boy right on your heels.

But he wasn’t there.

You put on the brakes, breathing heavily as you slowed to a stop. Turning your body in a circle numerous times, you tried to find where he went.

A twig snapping you made you still before letting out a defeated sigh. Hesitantly, you swiveled to see Jungkook step out from behind a tree and begin to jog to you with a shit eating grin on his face.

You closed your eyes tightly as you accepted your loss. Feeling his presence come closer and closer, you prepared yourself to be rammed into. You held your breath, waiting for impact.

Your body jolted when you felt something touch your waist, but a slamming force never came. Instead, the weight on your waist began to gently press into you, making you move backwards. Relaxing your face and opening your eyes, you saw Jungkook staring at you with smug, green eyes and a smirk dancing on his lips.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“H-Hi.”

He kept moving you backwards until your back softly connected with a tree, but he didn’t let you go. Rather, he pressed even further into you so that your chests were flush, and your faces were only centimeters apart. You looked at him with wide eyes as your hands gripped his forearms. He tilted his head to the side and leaned in so that his lips were teasing the shell of your ear. You suddenly had difficulty breathing normally as you waited for him to move or do something.

He let his hot breath fan over you for several heartbeats until he murmured, “You’re it.”

Leaning back, he displayed a cocky smile at your surprised face before letting go of your waist and taking several steps back. Then, he sent you a wink… a bloody wink!... before turning around and striding away. You shook your head and glued your eyes to his back.

Oh, you’re gonna get it!

Quickly, you called after him in the breathiest tone you could muster and moved your feet forward. The male’s steps faltered, and he looked over his shoulder just as you jumped on him and sent both of your bodies tumbling to the ground. As you descended, he twisted so that he landed on his back, not his face. He hit the forest floor with a thud, slightly grunting from the impact. He glared up at you as you sent him a smirk of your own, pleased with yourself. You were straddling his lean waist, one hand braced on the leaves and twigs beside his head and the other resting against his chest. Pushing against him and the dirt, you raised your top half and allowed your hands to move so they settled on his torso.

You raised an eyebrow as you laughed mockingly since you knew it would rile him up. “No, Coco. You’re still it.”

You gave his body a couple pats before going to stand up and run away. Though as you went to move, he narrowed his eyes at you and promptly sat up. Grabbing you, he flipped you down to the ground and rolled on top of you.

He held your wrists firmly above your head. “No. You’re it.”

You shivered involuntarily at the low tone of his voice and awkwardly laughed to hide the heat beginning to rise to your cheeks. The position you were in was not helping you succeed, though. You looked away from his serious eyes and focused on a nearby rock that now seemed extremely fascinating.

“O-Okay. Now please get off.”

He squeezed our wrists a little more. “Not until I hear you say it.”

You rolled your eyes at the rock. He was such a little shit sometimes.

“I’m it. Happy? Okay, now get off.”

You saw him smile in your peripherals before nodding once. “That’s a good girl.”

Oh. You sucked in a breath and fought with yourself to not release it unevenly.

“Alright, up we go.” You heard him say in a soft, yet teasing voice that made your body go limp and gooey.

Geez. What is he doing to me?

Suddenly, something clicked inside of you and it caused you to gasp quietly. Your eyes widened in incredulity as your heart swelled in realization.

Oh, fuck. This can’t be happening.

Then, you were pulled to your feet and you blinked at the male. He laughed, scrunching his nose in such an adorable way, and gave you a solid pat on the head before sprinting away, leaving you in an unmoving, flustered daze.

This can’t be happening.

The days following were a mess. You hadn’t run into any draikensu. Nobody had gotten hurt or sick. Nobody was brewing drama. No, it was none of those things.

It was because of a much more mundane matter. Something that plagued your mind and made you overthink every single detail during the days and nights. Something that both excited you and wrecked you. Something you still weren’t ready to face or accept… for many reasons.

Calm down, Y/N. It is not that. You’re just… sexually frustrated or something.

But as you glanced at a certain Saeni and a warm feeling bubbled up and spread throughout your body, you knew you were fucked. It had been like this since you played that stupid game of tag. You didn’t know why, but after that everything just felt… different. You had always thought he was insanely attractive and… even cute at times… but this was something else. Every time he looked in your direction you felt yourself automatically smiling. Every time he touched you in passing or even merely corrected your form during training, goosebumps raised along your skin and your breath hitched. You always found yourself looking his way and being drawn to his voice.

You chewed on your lip as you walked next to Tae, debating whether you should tell your friend about your recent revelation. You didn’t want him to freak out and start screaming. Not when you knew there wasn’t a chance for anything to happen between you and him. Not when you knew how he felt about you.

Why do I always put myself through this?

You sighed dejectedly and kicked a branch on the ground.

“You okay, little scorja?”

You looked up from the branch and into sharp blue eyes.

Forcing a tiny, half-assed smile, you replied, “Yeah, just thinking about some stuff.”

The grey-haired Saeni frowned and peered at your face. “No, you’re not, but whenever you’re ready to talk just come find me. You know I’m always here for you.”

You pulled the Saeni into an abrupt embrace, squeezing him tightly as he wrapped his arms around you and did the same. “I know. Thank you, TaeTae. I really don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.”

Tae smacked a big kiss to your cheek and grabbed your hand to make you start walking again. You smiled at him before sweeping your eyes over your surroundings. Mingi and Hobi were joking with each other, though the spy kept sneaking glances to his left where Yoongi was. The mint-haired Saeni was strolling with Jin and Namjoon. The latter two were speaking loudly, but Yoongi ignored them in favor of watching the trees and occasionally letting his eyes linger to his right. Behind them, Chungha walked alone, enjoying her solitude. And behind her, Jungkook was animatedly talking to Jimin and Jiae. The burgundy head was using grand gestures to highlight whatever story he was telling, making the others laugh. Without realizing it, you found that the corners of your mouth had upturned as you watched him. You couldn’t help it. Hastily, you wiped the tiny grin off your face by reminding yourself that he had no feelings for you. The thought made you sigh once more and clutch Tae’s hand tigher.

Don’t think of him like that. Don’t think of him like that. Don’t think of him like that. He doesn’t like you. He doesn’t like you. HE DOESN’T LIKE YOU SO STOP THINKING OF HIM LIKE THAT.

You looked at the laughing boy, taking in the way his burgundy hair gleamed in the sunlight, showing off those pink highlights while his peridot eyes glittered with excitement. The way he radiated protection and power and happiness. The way he was so strong yet so caring and tender when he wanted to be.

Before you knew it, you were smiling once more.

Groaning to yourself, you banged the heel of your palm against your forehead. I am so utterly fucked.

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